October 30, 2024

Chilling and Warming Effects

For several years, the Chilling Effects Clearinghouse has cataloging the effects of legal threats on online expression and helping people to understand their rights. Amid all the chilling we continue to see, it’s welcome to see rays of sunshine when bloggers stand up to threats, helping to stop the cycle of threat-and-takedown.

The BoingBoing team did this the other day when they got a legal threat from Ralph Lauren’s lawyers over an advertisement they mocked on the BoingBoing blog for featuring a stick-thin model. The lawyers claimed copyright infringement, saying “PRL owns all right, title, and interest in the original images that appear in the Advertisements.” Other hosts pull content “expeditiously” when they receive these notices (as Google did when notified of the post on Photoshop Disasters), and most bloggers and posters don’t counter-notify, even though Chilling Effects offers a handy counter-notification form.

Not BoingBoing, they posted the letter (and the image again) along with copious mockery, including an offer to feed the obviously starved models, and other sources picked up on the fun. The image has now been seen by many more people than would have discovered it in BoingBoing’s archives, in a pattern the press has nicknamed the “Streisand Effect.”

We use the term “chilling effects” to describe indirect legal restraints, or self-censorship, because most cease-and-desist letters don’t go through the courts. The lawyers (and non-lawyers) sending them rely on the in terrorem effects of threatened legal action, and often succeed in silencing speech for the cost of an e-postage stamp.

Actions like BoingBoing’s use the court of public opinion to counter this squelching. They fight legalese with public outrage (in support of legal analysis), and at the same time, help other readers to understand they have similar rights. Further, they increase the “cost” of sending cease-and-desists, as they make potential claimants consider the publicity risks being made to look foolish, bullying, or worse.

For those curious about the underlying legalities here, the Copyright Act makes clear that fair use, including for the purposes of commentary, criticism, and news reporting, is not an infringement of copyright. See Chilling Effects’ fair use FAQ. Yet the DMCA notice-and-takedown procedure encourages ISPs to respond to complaints with takedown, not investigation and legal balancing. Providers like BoingBoing’s Priority Colo should also get credit for their willingness to back their users’ responses.

As a result of the attention, Ralph Lauren apologized for the image: “After further investigation, we have learned that we are responsible for the poor imaging and retouching that resulted in a very distorted image of a woman’s body. We have addressed the problem and going forward will take every precaution to ensure that the caliber of our artwork represents our brand appropriately.”

May the warming (and proper attention to the health of fashion models) continue!

[cross-posted at Chilling Effects]

Android Open Source Model Has a Short Circuit

[Update: Google subsequently worked out a mechanism that allows Cyanogen and others to distribute their mods separate from the Google Apps.]

Last year, Google entered the mobile phone market with a Linux-based mobile operating system. The company brought together device manufacturers and carriers in the Open Handset Alliance, explaining that, “Together we have developed Android™, the first complete, open, and free mobile platform.” There has been considerable engagement from the open source developer community, as well as significant uptake from consumers. Android may have even been instrumental in motivating competing open platforms like LiMo. In addition to the underlying open source operating system, Google chose to package essential (but proprietary) applications with Android-based handsets. These applications include most of the things that make the handsets useful (including basic functions to sync with the data network). This two-tier system of rights has created a minor controversy.

A group of smart open source developers created a modified version of the Android+Apps package, called Cyanogen. It incorporated many useful and performance-enhancing updates to the Android OS, and included unchanged versions of the proprietary Apps. If Cyanogen hadn’t included the Apps, the package would have been essentially useless, given that Google doesn’t appear to provide a means to install the Apps on a device that has only a basic OS. As Cyanogen gained popularity, Google decided that it could no longer watch the project distribute their copyright-protected works. The lawyers at Google decided that they needed to send a Cease & Desist letter to the Cyanogen developer, which caused him to take the files off of his site and spurred backlash from the developer community.

Android represents a careful balance on the part of Google, in which the company seeks to foster open platforms but maintain control over its proprietary (but free) services. Google has stated as much, in response to the current debate. Android is an exciting alternative to the largely closed-source model that has dominated the mobile market to date. Google closely integrated their Apps with the operating system in a way that makes for a tremendously useful platform, but in doing so hampered the ability of third-party developers to fully contribute to the system. Perhaps the problem is simply that they did not choose the right location to draw the line between open vs. closed source — or free-to-distribute vs. not.

The latter distinction might offer a way out of the conundrum. Google could certainly grant blanket rights to third-parties to redistribute unchanged versions of their Apps. This might compromise their ability to make certain business arrangements with carriers or handset providers in which they package the software for a fee. That may or may not be worth it from their business perspective, but they could have trouble making the claim that Android is a “complete, open, and free mobile platform” if they don’t find a way to make it work for developers.

This all takes place in the context of a larger debate over the extent to which mobile platforms should be open — voluntarily or via regulatory mandate. Google and Apple have been arguing via letters to the FCC about whether or not Apple should allow the Google Voice application in the iPhone App Store. However, it is yet to be determined whether the Commission has the jurisdiction and political will to do anything about the issue. There is a fascinating sideshow in that particular dispute, in which AT&T has made the very novel claim that Google Voice violates network neutrality (well, either that or common carriage — they’ll take whichever argument they can win). Google has replied. This is a topic for another day, but suffice to say the clear regulatory distinctions between telephone networks, broadband, and devices have become muddied.

(Cross-posted to Managing Miracles)

A Freedom-of-Speech-based Approach To Limiting Filesharing – Part III: Smoke, smoke!

Over the past two days we have seen that filesharing is vulnerable to spamming, and that as a defense, the filesharers have used the IP block list to exclude the spammers from sharing files. Today I discuss how I think lawyers and laypeople should look at the legal issues. Since I am most decidedly not a lawyer, nothing I say here should be considered definitive. Hopefully, it is at least interesting.

An analogy:

Washington Square, in New York City, was for many years a place where drugs were sold. A fellow would stand around quietly saying to passersby “Smoke, smoke!” However, this so-called “steerer” held no drugs. His role was simply to direct the buyer to the “pitcher”, who had the drugs somewhere nearby, and who kept silent.

Even the strongest defender of free-speech rights understands that the “steerer’s” words are not just speech. His words are not similar to those of this article, though both simply say that someone in the park is selling. He is as legally responsible for the sale as the “pitcher”, because they are, according to legal terminology, “acting in concert”. He is a drug dealer who may never touch any drugs. Note also that the “steerer” receives payments from the illegal transactions – though it is not in fact legally necessary to be able to prove the payments to establish that he’s “acting in concert”. All that’s required is that the “steerer” and the “pitcher” share “community of purpose” in facilitating the illegal transaction.

In the Napster case, the court held that Napster, even though it did not have any copyrighted data on its servers, was liable for contributory infringement. To use Napster, a downloader would login to Napster’s central server, which connected the user to another user who had a file that was being searched for. Since it was Napster’s role to hook up the parties illegally exchanging files, it is reasonable to see this as analogous to the “steerer” in Washington Square – Napster didn’t have the infringing materials, but that really isn’t a defense.

The gnutella network is decentralized to solve the legal problem presented by the Napster decision. Nonetheless, there is something still centralized in gnutella: the IP block list. Users of LimeWire get their block list from LimeWire and only from LimeWire. Accordingly, if Napster was like the “steerer” in Washington Square, LimeWire furthers the “community of purpose” in a different way; it is someone who gives negative information rather than affirmative. He’s someone paid to stand in the park pointing out who are cheaters selling bad drugs, allowing the purchasers to find the good stuff.

What is a legitimate P2P spam filtering authority versus one that shares “community of purpose” with infringers? The former could legitimately act to keep the network from being flooded by those selling weight loss drugs, without facilitating infringing. There is probably no bright-line rule, but it is reasonably clear that LimeWire is well on the wrong side of any possible grey area.

It’s useful to compare gnutella spam cop LimeWire with e-mail spam cop AOL.

LimeWire does not clearly advertise its spam cop role as a feature of its software, and does not discuss its block list. (The LimeWire web site has only the cryptic description “We’re always working to protect you from viruses and unwanted sharing.”) There is no discussion anywhere about what sorts of sites and files it is blocking and for what reason. No notification is given by LimeWire to a site when it is blocked, nor is there any way given to contact LimeWire to remove yourself from the block list.

In comparison, blocking e-mail spam is, for AOL, a major selling point. AOL does not block bulk e-mailers (many of which are legitimate) on a whim. Every e-mail rejected by AOL is bounced with a notification to the sender, and there are detailed instructions to bulk e-mailers as to what they need to do to avoid running afoul of AOL’s filters. There is a way to contact AOL to remove oneself from the block list, if one is legitimate. The whole process is transparent.

It is clear that a legitimate spam cop cannot block spoofers, since any search for a non-infringing file would be unmolested by spoofs, yet it appears that LimeWire does block MediaDefender. In fact, LimeWire appears to be quietly promising to do so, when it says that it protects against “unwanted sharing”, whatever that is.

Lastly, it appears that LimeWire’s statements in court conceal what it is doing.

As we mentioned in the first post, there is an ongoing case, Arista v Lime Group. In its motion for Summary Judgement, LimeWire states

Likewise, LW does not have the ability to control the manner in which users employ the LimeWire software. Unlike the Napster defendants, LW does not maintain central servers containing files or indices of files. … LW’s system is like that analysed by the Ninth Circuit in Grokster, “truly decentralized”. … LW no more controls the actions of its customers than do any of the thousands of companies that provide hardware or other software used in connection with the internet.

This omits any discussion of LimeWire’s centralized block list. LW assuredly does control the manner in which LimeWire users employ the LimeWire software, because if a site is added to the IP block list, it is no longer visible to most LimeWire users. This is very far from the normal situation applying in other software used in connection with the internet.

Moreover, the plaintiffs’ attorneys appear to be unaware of the blocking of spoofs, as their reply motion makes no mention of it (nor the other hidden features of LimeWire software discussed yesterday).

While it might be possible to run a legitimate spam-blocking service for P2P networks, it would look rather different from what LimeWire is doing.

Conclusion

The best way to regulate filesharing effectively is to analyze the various players’ roles on free-speech grounds. The individual filesharers (when they share infringing material) are certainly violating the law, but in a small way that probably can’t be reasonably controlled. The publishers of the software that allows the network to run (including LimeWire) are exercising free speech – the fact that their code can be made to do something illegal should be irrelevant. However, LimeWire is facilitating infringing because of the way it runs its IP block list. If LimeWire were shut down, the gnutella network become useless for downloading infringing music. Because of their actions to keep the network safe for infringers – their “acting in concert” – LimeWire should be liable for contributory infringement.

This course will avoid free speech restrictions that trouble many. In terms of preventing infringing, it also will be far more productive than trying to target the small fish. It is an effective measure that respects rights.

[This series of posts has been a somewhat shortened version of an article here.]

A Freedom-of-Speech Approach To Limiting Filesharing – Part I: Filesharing and Spam

[Today we kick off a series of three guest posts by Mitch Golden. Mitch was a professor of physics when, in 1995, he was bitten by the Internet bug and came to New York to become an entrepreneur and consultant. He has worked on a variety of Internet enterprises, including one in the filesharing space. As usual, the opinions expressed in these posts are Mitch’s alone. — Ed]

The battle between the record labels and filesharers has been somewhat out of the news a bit of late, but it rages on still. There is an ongoing court case Arista Records v LimeWire, in which a group of record labels are suing to have LimeWire held accountable for the copyright infringing done by its users. Though this case has attracted less attention than similar cases before it, it may raise interesting issues not addressed in previous cases. Though I am a technologist, not a lawyer, this series of posts will advocate a way of looking at the issues, including legal, using a freedom-of-speech based approach, which leads to some unusual conclusions.

Let’s start by reviewing some salient features of filesharing.

Filesharing is a way for a group of people – who generally do not know one another – to allow one another to see what files they collectively have on their machines, and to exchange desired files with each other. There are at least two components to a filesharing system: one allows a user who is looking for a particular file to see if someone has it, and another that allows the file to be transferred from one machine to the other.

One of the most popular filesharing programs in current use is LimeWire, which uses a protocol called gnutella. Gnutella is decentralized, in the sense that neither the search nor the exchange of files requires any central server. It is possible, therefore, for people to exchange copyrighted files – in violation of the law – without creating any log of the search or exchange in a central repository.

The gnutella protocol was originally created by developers from Nullsoft, the company that had developed the popular music player WinAmp, shortly after it was acquired by AOL. AOL was at that time merging with Time Warner, a huge media company, and so the idea that they would be distributing a filesharing client was quite unamusing to management. Work was immediately discontinued; however, the source for the client and the implementation of the protocol had already been released under the GPL, and so development continued elsewhere. LimeWire made improvements both to the protocol and the interface, and their client became quite popular.

The decentralized structure of filesharing does not serve a technical purpose. In general, centralized searching is simpler, quicker and more efficient, and so, for example, to search the web we use Google or Yahoo, which are gigantic repositories. In filesharing, the decentralized search structure instead serves a legal purpose: to diffuse the responsibility so no particular individual or organization can be held accountable for promoting the illegal copying of copyright materials. At the time the original development was going on, the Napster case was in the news, in which the first successful filesharing service was being sued by the record labels. The outcome of that case a few months later resulted in Napster being shut down, as the US courts held it (which was a centralized search repository) responsible for the copyright infringing file sharing its users were doing.

Whatever their legal or technical advantages, decentralized networks, by virtue of their openness, are vulnerable to a common problem: spam. For example, because anyone may send anyone else an e-mail, we are all subject to a deluge of messages trying to sell us penny stocks and weight loss remedies. Filesharing too is subject this sort of cheating. If someone is looking for, say, Rihanna’s recording Disturbia, and downloads an mp3 file that purports to be such, what’s to stop a spammer from instead serving a file with an audio ad for a Canadian pharmacy?

Spammers on the filesharing networks, however, have more than just the usual commercial motivations in mind. In general, there are four categories of fake files that find their way onto the network.

  • Commercial spam
  • Pornography and Ads for Pornography
  • Viruses and trojans
  • Spoof files

The last of these has no real analogue to anything people receive in e-mail It works as follows: if, for example, Rihanna’s record label wants to prevent you from downloading Disturbia, they might hire a company called MediaDefender. MediaDefender’s business is to put as many spoof files as possible on gnutella that purport to be Disturbia, but instead contain useless noise. If MediaDefender can succeed in flooding the network so that the real Disturbia is needle in a haystack, then the record label has thwarted gnutella’s users from violating their copyright.

Since people are still using filesharing, clearly a workable solution has been found to the problem of spoof files. In tomorrow’s post, I discuss this solution, and in the following post, I suggest its legal ramifications.

The future of high school yearbooks

The Dallas Morning News recently ran a piece about how kids these days aren’t interested in buying physical, printed yearbooks. (Hat tip to my high school’s journalism teacher, who linked to it from our journalism alumni Facebook group.) Why spend $60 on a dead-trees yearbook when you can get everything you need on Facebook? My 20th high school reunion is coming up this fall, and I was the “head” photographer for my high school’s yearbook and newspaper, so this is a topic near and dear to my heart.

Let’s break down everything that a yearbook actually is and then think about how these features can and cannot be replicated in the digital world. A yearbook has:

  • higher-than-normal photographic quality (yearbook photographers hopefully own better camera equipment and know how to use their gear properly)
  • editors who do all kinds of useful things (sending photographers to events they want covered, selecting the best pictures for publication, captioning them, and indexing the people in them)
  • a physical artifact that people can pass around to their friends to mark up and personalize, and which will still be around years later

If you get rid of the physical yearbook, you’ve got all kinds of issues. Permanence is the big one. There’s nothing that my high school can do to delete my yearbook after it’s been published. Conversely, if high schools host their yearbooks on school-owned equipment, then they can and will fail over time. (Yes, I know you could run a crawler and make a copy, but I wouldn’t trust a typical high school’s IT department to build a site that will be around decades later.) To pick one example, my high school’s web site, when it first went online, had a nice alumni registry. Within a few years, it unceremoniously went away without warning.

Okay, what about Facebook? At this point, almost a third of my graduating class is on Facebook, and I’m sure the numbers are much higher for more recent classes. Some of my classmates are digging up old pictures, posting them, and tagging each other. With social networking as part of the yearbook process from the start, you can get some serious traction in replacing physical yearbooks. Yearbook editors and photography staff can still cover events, select good pictures, caption them, and index them. The social networking aspect covers some of the personalization and markup that we got by writing in each others’ yearbooks. That’s fun, but please somebody convince me that Facebook will be here ten or twenty years from now. Any business that doesn’t make money will eventually go out of business, and Facebook is no exception.

Aside from the permanence issue, is anything else lost by going to a Web 2.0 social networking non-printed yearbook? Censorship-happy high schools (and we all know what a problem that can be) will never allow a social network site that they control to have students’ genuine expressions of their distaste for all the things that rebellious youth like to complain about. Never mind that the school has a responsibility to maintain some measure of student privacy. Consequently, no high school would endorse the use of a social network that they couldn’t control and censor. I’m sure several of the people who wrote in my yearbook could have gotten in trouble if the things they wrote there were to have been raised before the school administration, yet those comments are the best part of my yearbook. Nothing takes you back quite as much as off-color commentary.

One significant lever that high school yearbooks have, which commercial publications like newspapers generally lack, is that they’re non-profit. If the yearbook financially breaks even, they’re doing a good job. (And, in the digital universe, the costs are perhaps lower. I personally shot hundreds of rolls of black&white film, processed them, and printed them, and we had many more photographers on our staff. My high school paid for all the film, paper, and photo-chemistry that we used. Now they just need computers, although those aren’t exactly cheap, either.) So what if they don’t print so many physical yearbooks? Sure, the yearbook staff can do a short, vanity press run, so they can enter competitions and maybe win something, but otherwise they can put out a PDF or pickle the bowdlerized social network’s contents down to a DVD-ROM and call it a day. That hopefully creates enough permanence. What about uncensored commentary? That’s probably going to have to happen outside of the yearbook context. Any high school student can sign up for a webmail account and keep all their email for years to come. (Unlike Facebook, the webmail companies seem to be making money.) Similarly, the ubiquity of digital point-and-shoot cameras ensures that students will have uncensored, personal, off-color memories.

[Sidebar: There’s a reality show on TV called “High School Reunion.” Last year, they reunited some people from my school’s class of 1987. I was in the class of 1989. Prior to the show airing, I was contacted by one of the producers, wanting to use some of my photographs in the show. She sent me a waiver that basically had me indemnifying them for their use of my work; of course, they weren’t offering to pay me anything. Really? No thanks. One of the interesting questions was whether my photos were even “my property” to which I could even give them permission to use. There were no contracts of any kind when I signed up to work on the yearbook. You could argue that the school retains an interest in the pictures, never mind the original subjects from whom we never got model releases. Our final contract said, in effect, that I represented that I took the pictures and had no problem with them using them, but I made no claims as to ownership, and they indemnified me against any issues that might arise.

Question for the legal minds here: I have three binders full of negatives from my high school years. I could well invest a week of my time, borrow a good scanner, and get the whole collection online and post it online, either on my own web site or on Facebook. Should I? Am I opening myself to legal liability?]