“Fake Drake”: Vindicating Copyright Ownership in the Advent of Generative AI Music

INTRODUCTION

In April 2023, “Heart on My Sleeve” almost instantly went viral on TikTok, grabbing the attention of millions of viewers who were intrigued by what seemed to be an unreleased collaboration between Drake and The Weeknd.1Amanda Silberling, A New Drake x The Weeknd Track Just Blew Up—But It’s an AI Fake, TechCrunch (Apr. 17, 2023, 9:41 AM), https://techcrunch.com/2023/04/17/uh-oh-an-ai-generated-song-by-drake-and-the-weeknd-went-viral [https://perma.cc/ZAT6-6DG6]. The song not only sounded extremely similar to its alleged vocalists and their music styles, but the lyrics also reflected events and people relevant to their lives, resulting in a very convincing piece of music. But it quickly became clear that this song was not, in fact, created nor sung by Drake and The Weeknd; instead, it was the product of artificial intelligence (“AI”) music-generating programs used by Ghostwriter977, the poster of the video.2Samantha Murphy Kelly, The Viral New ‘Drake’ and ‘Weeknd’ Song Is Not What It Seems, CNN (Apr. 19, 2023, 9:14 AM), https://www.cnn.com/2023/04/19/tech/heart-on-sleeve-ai-drake-weeknd [https://perma.cc/6DWJ-6E5A]. After amassing millions of views across various platforms in just a few days, streaming services pulled the song,3The original video of the song posted to TikTok was also seemingly deleted. Id. and those searching for it on YouTube were met with a message stating the video was “no longer available due to a copyright claim by Universal Music Group.”4Daysia Tolentino, Viral AI-Powered Drake and The Weeknd Song Is Removed from Streaming Services, NBC News (Apr. 18, 2023, 12:04 PM), https://www.nbcnews.com/pop-culture/viral-ai-powered-drake-weeknd-song-removed-streaming-services-rcna80098 [https://perma.cc/4YG9-G49J]. Despite the message displayed, Universal Music Group (“UMG”) declined at that time to clarify whether it had formally sent takedown requests. Laura Snapes, AI Song Featuring Fake Drake and Weeknd Vocals Pulled from Streaming Services, Guardian (Apr. 18, 2023, 5:37 PM), https://www.theguardian.com/music/2023/apr/18/ai-song-featuring-fake-drake-and-weeknd-vocals-pulled-from-streaming-services [https://perma.cc/MNZ3-ZWGG].

While concerns about this particular song seem to have been adequately addressed by streaming services quickly pulling it from their platforms, the impact of Ghostwriter977’s video was profound and widespread. While generative AI had already aroused questions and concerns generally, 5See, e.g., Abreanna Blose, As ChatGPT Enters the Classroom, Teachers Weigh Pros and Cons, neaToday (Apr. 12, 2023), https://www.nea.org/nea-today/all-news-articles/chatgpt-enters-classroom-teachers-weigh-pros-and-cons [https://perma.cc/35P7-LB4S] (“On the one hand, many educators fear [ChatGPT] . . . encourag[es] new methods of cheating and plagiarism. . . . On the other, [it] . . . appeal[s] to educators who see its potential to improve education.”); Benj Edwards, Artists File Class-Action Lawsuit Against AI Image Generator Companies, Ars Technica (Jan. 16, 2023, 3:36 PM), https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2023/01/artists-file-class-action-lawsuit-against-ai-image-generator-companies [https://perma.cc/5FNU-TLHW] (“Since the mainstream emergence of AI image synthesis in the last year, AI-generated artwork has been highly controversial among artists . . . .”). “Heart on My Sleeve” directed the world’s attention to the music context. While this is not the first instance of a controversial AI-generated musical work,6See, e.g., Sonia Horon, Drake Responds to AI-Generated Cover of Him Rapping Ice Spice’s Hit Song Munch and Calls It ‘The Final Straw’, Daily Mail (Apr. 14, 2023, 7:31 PM), https://www.dailymail.co.uk/tvshowbiz/article-11974861/Drake-calls-AI-Generated-cover-rapping-Ice-Spices-song-Munch-final-straw.html [https://perma.cc/FRA4-Q96J] (“Drake appeared less than pleased with a recent AI-Generated cover of him rapping Ice Spice’s hit song Munch.”); Jem Aswad, AI and Copyright: Human Artistry Campaign Launches to Support Songwriters and Musicians’ Rights, Variety (Mar. 17, 2023, 7:17 AM), https://variety.com/2023/music/news/ai-copyright-human-artistry-campaign-musicians-songwriters-artificial-intelligence-1235557582 [https://perma.cc/79QD-WR6V] (noting that the “music industry is alarmed” following instances like David Guetta’s song using an AI-generated Eminem track). the nature and quality of the song revealed just how advanced generative AI technology has become, sparking strong responses ranging from excited curiosity to extreme outrage.7Singer-songwriter Grimes posted on X, in response to “Heart on My Sleeve,” that she would “split 50% [of] royalties on any successful AI generated song that uses [her] voice,” noting, in a reply to her initial post, that she thinks “it’s cool to be fused w[ith] a machine.” Grimes (@Grimezsz), X (Apr. 23, 2023, 6:02 PM), https://x.com/Grimezsz/status/1650304051718791170 [https://perma.cc/X5Q7-8VJV]. A more cautious John Legend conceded that “AI’s going to be a part of our lives, . . . [a]nd that’s fine,” but he believes artists’ “rights should still be protected.” Daniella Genovese, John Legend Calls for Regulation on AI-Generated Music, Fox Bus. (Apr. 27, 2023, 9:07 AM), https://www.foxbusiness.com/lifestyle/john-legend-calls-regulation-ai-generated-music [https://perma.cc/SF9C-ZD7H].

The key question that the world is now more intently wondering, as artists, labels, and music representatives wave the flag of “copyright infringement,” is whether U.S. copyright law, as it stands today, can be a source of recourse for artists to take legal action in response to AI-generated music. Due to the novelty of the technology and the nuances of copyright law in the music context, we are without the legal precedent one would usually look at to find a more definitive answer. Because copyright holders’ concerns are pressing and nothing suggests that copyright law will soon be amended to address them, analogizing to similar cases and drawing on the fundamental principles of, and rationales for, copyright protection is necessary to develop predictions as to how courts will rule in a copyright case of Artist v. AI User.

Copyright is concerned with protecting the rights of creators and encouraging innovation, meaning that there remains an additional concern about being overly restrictive and inhibiting creativity and progress. In the context of AI-generated music and copyright infringement, we are placed at what some deem a crossroads,8A spokesperson for UMG asked, “which side of history [do] all stakeholders in the music ecosystem want to be on: the side of artists, fans and human creative expression, or on the side of . . . fraud and denying artists their due compensation”? Snapes, supra note 4. left to decide whether we value human artists’ creativity and resulting work more or less than we value technological innovation and its potential for important advancements. On one side of this policy debate is the music industry, which generated $15.9 billion in revenue in 2022 in the United States alone,9Jem Aswad, U.S. Recorded Music Revenue Scores All-Time High of $15.9 Billion in 2022, Per RIAA Report, Variety (Mar. 9, 2023, 5:57 AM), https://variety.com/2023/music/news/riaa-2022-report-revenue-all-time-high-15-billion-1235547400 [https://perma.cc/A9AT-YV9E]. and represents an art form that has brought humans together since the beginning of time. There is a high barrier to achieving conventional success in the music industry, which some interpret to mean that only the very best succeed as a result of their hard work and dedication. But the other side of the debate takes these same ideas to highlight how innovative generative AI music should be encouraged. Unlike the music industry, which is extremely difficult to break into, there is a very low barrier to entry for generative AI use, as it is largely accessible and there are many tools one can use to learn how to harness the technology.10Ziv Epstein, Aaron Hertzmann, the Investigators of Human Creativity, Memo Akten, Hany Farid, Jessica Fjeld, Morgan R. Frank, Matthew Groh, Laura Herman, Neil Leach, Robert Mahari, Alex “Sandy” Pentland, Olga Russakovsky, Hope Schroeder & Amy Smith, Art and the Science of Generative AI, 380 Sci. 1110, 1110 (2023). Some see this as an opportunity to diversify music and the people making it, which has many benefits. There are strong opinions on both sides, placing this debate squarely within the realm of what legislators anticipated would be a subject of copyright controversy—how can we balance protecting existing creations and encouraging future innovations? 11Artificial Intelligence and Intellectual Property—Part II: Copyright: Hearing Before the Subcomm. of Intell. Prop. of the S. Comm. on the Judiciary, 118th Cong. 2 (2023) (statement of Sen. Christopher A. Coons) (“We should also consider whether changes to our copyright laws . . . may be necessary to strike the right balance between creators’ rights and AI’s ability to enhance innovation and creativity.”).

Absent both a clear answer to this question and any indications that existing copyright law will soon be amended to specifically address the issue of potential copyright infringement by generative AI music outputs, we must look to the interpretation of current copyright law in similar situations. This Note will use case law to shed light on how courts might treat copyright infringement suits involving AI-generated music. To illustrate how current copyright law will apply to real AI-generated music, two hypothetical songs will be used as examples, both based on songs that could be created using existing generative AI music systems.12MuseNet, one of the AI systems that will be used, is not currently functional. However, there is significantly more information available about MuseNet than comparable platforms, and it uses modeling similar to other operating platforms which means this application will be generalizable to similar modeling systems.

Sample Song A is a rap song created by User A using Uberduck.ai (“Uberduck”). Sample Song A was created using a generic punk rap beat provided by Uberduck. The voice used to create Sample Song A is an option specifically labeled as Kanye West in the era of Yeezus, West’s provocative 2013 album. The lyrics are generated by Uberduck, using the prompt “rebellion, slavery, superiority, unapologetic, perseverance, individuality, and power,” all of which are words that have been used to describe West’s reputation, as well as the themes of Yeezus and particularly, the hit song “Black Skinhead.”13Mark Chinapen, Yeezus by Kanye West Retrospective—The Anti-Rap Album, Medium (Jan. 29, 2021), https://medium.com/modern-music-analysis/yeezus-by-kanye-west-retrospective-the-anti-rap-album-39d57d618723 [https://perma.cc/HG57-JZVL]; James McNally, Review: Yeezus by Kanye West, Ethnomusicology Rev. (July 14, 2013), https://ethnomusicologyreview.ucla.edu/content/review-yeezus-kanye-west [https://perma.cc/4TGF-XH4L]. The resulting rap sounds nearly identical to West, with lyrics closely tied to themes he has focused on. The unsuspecting listener may very likely mistake the song for a new release by West himself. While the song sounds like it would fit in with West’s discography, the actual music and lyrics are completely different from any of his prior releases. 

Sample Song B is an emotional ballad, and User B created the musical composition using MuseNet. In creating Sample Song B, they selected Adele as the vocal style for the song, and the selected instrument was limited to piano. The introduction to Sample Song B uses the well-known piano phrase that functions as a melodic hook throughout Adele’s “Someone Like You,” an option provided by MuseNet. This piano segment is arguably the most distinctive musical feature of “Someone Like You,” and is known as an arpeggio, which melodizes chords.14Arpeggio, GW Law: Music Copyright Infringement Resource, https://blogs.law.gwu.edu/mcir/2018/12/20/arpeggio [https://perma.cc/ES9C-RV2L]. The exact piano chords and resulting melody are used—just slightly sped up—but after the introduction, the chords begin to differ. However, the song returns to the piano phrase after the chorus, resulting in a song that is musically similar to “Someone Like You.” User B added lyrics using an outside platform after MuseNet finalized the composition. Sample Song B’s lyrics were written to evoke feelings of both love and despair, and the words themselves speak to a failed relationship, regret, and a longing for love; thus, the song, both lyrically and musically, bears a notable resemblance to “Someone Like You” and Adele’s music generally.15Kitty Empire, Adele: 21—Review, Guardian (Jan. 22, 2011, 7:05 PM), https://www.theguardian.com/music/2011/jan/23/adele-adkins-21-review [https://perma.cc/3W55-NMDN]; Doug Waterman, The Story Behind the Song: Adele, “Someone Like You”, Am. Songwriter (Oct. 12, 2021, 12:59 PM), https://americansongwriter.com/someone-like-you-adele-behind-the-song [https://perma.cc/GN6Q-L4GA]; Michaeleen Doucleff, Anatomy of a Tear-Jerker, Wall St. J. (Feb. 11, 2012), https://www.wsj.com/articles/SB10001424052970203646004577213010291701378 [https://perma.cc/4T3Z-AAJZ]. The lyrics are sung in a feminine, mezzo-soprano voice, but unlike Sample Song A, the voice does not directly imitate its style inspiration.

Before applying copyright law to the sample songs, this Note provides relevant background information. Part I introduces generative AI, providing an overview of how the technology works and details on how the systems used to make the sample songs produce musical works. Additionally, the U.S. Copyright Office’s statements about AI are discussed. Part II focuses on current copyright law—what it requires, what it protects, and how infringement actions work. Music occupies a unique area of copyright law because of the separation between the composition and the sound recording, so limitations and exclusions are discussed in detail. Because courts have not specifically addressed AI on many occasions, analogizing to other cases involving technology helps anticipate the judicial response to this novel technology. Part III applies copyright law to the sample songs and predicts likely outcomes. This includes an analysis of how the songs may fare in all steps of an infringement action, from defenses to statutorily imposed limitations on what can be the basis of a lawsuit. This analysis reveals how copyright law might help artists and how it may hurt them. While artists may potentially find support in trademark law or the right of publicity, this Note will focus solely on copyright law as a vehicle for attempting to vindicate their rights. Finally, Part IV discusses policy implications associated with trying to fit AI-generated music into our developed system of copyright law, highlights the key concerns for artists, and points to gray areas that warrant clarification. The conclusion of this Note summarizes anticipated outcomes and the complicated nature of fitting new technology into the current framework of copyright law.

I. BACKGROUND: GENERATIVE ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE

A. How the Technology Works

AI is “a science and a set of computational techniques that are inspired by the way in which human beings use their nervous system and their body to feel, learn, reason, and act.”16Pradeep Kumar Garg, Overview of Artificial Intelligence, in Artificial Intelligence: Technologies, Applications, and Challenges 3, 3 (Lavanya Sharma & Pradeep Kumar Garg, eds., 2022) (citation omitted). More simply, AI can be thought of as “a man-made object with thinking power.”17This meaning can be derived from the root words of artificial intelligence: “artificial” means “human-created” and “intelligence” means “thinking power.” Id. At the foundation of any program is data input, a starting point akin to the intaking of information that constitutes the first step of the human learning process; the difference between AI and human learning in this respect, however, is that AI systems require massive amounts of data to be effective.18Id. How exactly systems use data and produce desired results depends on the learning approach. The most prominent systems are machine learning (“ML”) and deep learning (“DL”).

ML is the “most promising and most relevant domain” to apply AI.19R. Lalitha, AI vs. Machine Learning vs. Deep Learning, in Artificial Intelligence (AI): Recent Trends and Applications 73, 75 (S. Kanimozhi Suguna, M. Dhivya & Sara Paiva, eds., 2021). ML is a way of learning from big data, and its algorithm is self-adaptive, meaning that through experience, it can get new patterns and improve “perception, knowledge, decisions, or actions.”20Id.; Christopher Manning, Artificial Intelligence Definitions, Stanford University: Human-Centered A.I. (Apr. 2022), https://hai.stanford.edu/sites/default/files/2023-03/AI-Key-Terms-Glossary-Definition.pdf [https://perma.cc/5SZ9-V94M]. The key feature that distinguishes ML is that the goal is for the algorithm to learn to find its own solutions, as opposed to learning to follow human-defined rules.21Garg, supra note 16, at 9; Philip Boucher, Artificial Intelligence: How Does It Work, Why Does It Matter, and What Can We Do About It?, Eur. Parl. Rsch. Servs. VII (2020). DL uses “large multi-layer (artificial) neural networks”22Manning, supra note 20. (“ANNs”) to carry out tasks. 23Boucher, supra note 21, at VI (“Artificial neural networks process data to make decisions in a way that is inspired by the structure and functionality of the human brain.”). DL algorithms “filter[] the input through many layers,” resulting in the ability to “classify and predict the data.”24Lalitha, supra note 19, at 76. “Computational nodes” are created and trained, and ultimately make decisions through a filtering process that is similar to the human brain.25Id. (“It is exactly similar to how the human brain filters any information into deep layers to understand in depth.”).

This Note will focus specifically on generative AI applications, which are created using generative modeling.26Stefan Feuerriegel, Jochen Hartmann, Christian Janiesch & Patrick Zschech, Generative AI, 66 Bus. & Info. Sys. Eng’g 111, 112 (2024) (“[G]enerative modeling aims to infer some actual data distribution . . . [and] [b]y doing so, a generative model offers the ability to produce new synthetic samples.”). Generative AI models have a “machine learning architecture” and use learned patterns to generate new data samples.27Id. There are various generative AI systems, each tailored to a desired output goal; for example, ChatGPT is a generative AI system that generates text and is based on an “X-to-text” model.28Id. Because generative AI is a subset of ML, the training process requires substantial amounts of data. How models are trained can vary greatly, so this Note will focus on the training used for the specific systems that generate music.

B. Generative AI in the Music Context

There are important nuances to note when discussing generative AI systems that create music as opposed to other output domains. Systems that generate music have attracted a lot of attention purely because the output is something we have long considered to be an “innate pursuit of human beings,” as music is viewed as a human expression that encompasses both “creativity” and “collaboration.”29Weiming Liu, Literature Survey of Multi-Track Music Generation Model Based on Generative Confrontation Network in Intelligent Composition, 79 J. Supercomputing 6560, 6561 (2022). While many people remain very opposed to generative AI music,30In response to an AI-generated song intended to be in the style of his music, singer and songwriter Nick Cave stated that the song was “bullshit, a grotesque mockery of what it is to be human.” Sian Cain, ‘This Song Sucks’: Nick Cave Responds to ChatGPT Song Written in Style of Nick Cave, Guardian (Jan. 16, 2023, 7:39 PM), https://www.theguardian.com/music/2023/jan/17/this-song-sucks-nick-cave-responds-to-chatgpt-song-written-in-style-of-nick-cave [https://perma.cc/JJ4E-8L4T]. it is undeniable that the technology has advanced rapidly in ways that have vastly improved the output quality; many generative AI music systems are now able to account for the subtle but important nuances in recorded music and generate output accordingly.31Eric Sunray, Note, Sounds of Science: Copyright Infringement in AI Music Generator Outputs, 29 Cath. U. J.L. & Tech. 185, 192–93 (2021).

Most music-generating systems involve combinations of ML, DL, and ANNs. The sample songs guiding this Note’s application of copyright law to AI-generated music used the following two noteworthy systems: Uberduck.ai and MuseNet, both of which exist on different ends of the technology spectrum. While these systems are different in relevant ways that will be discussed, it is important to note a key similarity is that they are trained on existing music, so it is almost guaranteed that at least some of the input includes copyrighted songs that train the model to invoke a sound or style.

Uberduck, used for Sample Song A, is a speech synthesis system powered by DL that generates “high-quality and expressive voice output.”32UberDuck, Welcome.AI, https://welcome.ai/solution/uberduck [https://perma.cc/4KUC-376P]. Uberduck utilizes several models for speech synthesis, including SO-VITS-SVC, HiFi-GAN, and other text-to-speech models.33Id. Other models include Tacotron 2 and zero-shot RADTTS. Id. SO-VITS-SVC is a DL model, trained using audio files to convert recordings into singing voices.34Matt Mullen, How to Make an AI Cover Song with Any Artist’s Voice, MusicRadar (Nov. 28, 2023), https://www.musicradar.com/how-to/ai-vocal-covers [https://perma.cc/AWG2-L2JD]. SO-VITS-SVC references “SoftVC,” “[c]onditional [v]ariational [a]utoencoder with [a]dversarial [l]earning,” and “singing voice conversion.”35Amal Tyagi, How to Turn Your Voice into Any Celebrity’s (so-vits-svc 4.0), Medium (May 17, 2023), https://medium.com/@amaltyagi/how-to-turn-your-voice-into-any-celebritys-so-vits-svc-4-0-e92222a287e2 [https://perma.cc/W3EM-S3S4]. Using a source audio, SoftVC, or “soft voice conversion” separates a singer’s voice into “frequency bands,” which are encoded to analyze “distinct characteristics” of a voice.36Id.; Benj Edwards, Hear Elvis Sing Baby Got Back Using AI—and Learn How It Was Made, Ars Technica (Aug. 4, 2023, 8:32 AM), https://arstechnica.com/information-technology/2023/08/hear-elvis-sing-baby-got-back-using-ai-and-learn-how-it-was-made [https://perma.cc/EBP5-LMJ5]. A conditional variational autoencoder with adversarial learning uses adversarial training aimed at enabling text-to-speech models to handle more varied data.37Tyagi, supra note 35. Lastly, singing voice conversion, which can be thought of like a voice cloner, converts one singing voice into another while maintaining features like pitch, rhythm, and notes from the original input.38Id.; What Is SVC Technology?, Voice.ai (May 10, 2023), https://voice.ai/hub/voice-technology/svc-technology [https://perma.cc/24JZ-F954]. Uberduck also uses HiFi-GAN, which is a specialized variant of the generative model Generative Adversarial Network (“GAN”).39Jiaqi Su, Zeyu Jin & Adam Finkelstein, HiFi-GAN: High-Fidelity Denoising and Dereverberation Based on Speech Deep Features in Adversarial Networks, 2020 Interspeech 4506, 4506 (2020); K. Rakesh and V. Uma, Generative Adversarial Network: Concepts, Variants, and Applications, in Artificial Intelligence (AI): Recent Trends and Applications 131, 132 (S. Kanimozhi Suguna et al. eds., 2021). GANs use generators and discriminators, which work together in a repeated feedback process to help the generator produce results that pass the discriminator’s authenticity test.40Sunray, supra note 31, at 189. The discriminator is trained to determine whether an audio sample is real or fake, which aids the generator in “better approximat[ing] the distribution of real data,” resulting in more realistic-sounding outputs.41Su et al., supra note 39, at 1. Through its “loss function,” the generator improves its output by incorporating feedback from the error in results, which is the difference between actual and predicted outputs.42Id. This process is illustrated in Figure 1 below. The difference with HiFi-GAN, specifically, is that it is tailored to “transform recorded speech to sound as though it had been recorded in a studio.”43Id. The use of HiFi-GAN is an important component of making the resulting song sound believable. Together, these technologies and the other text-to-speech models work to mimic the voice of an input audio and make it sound as authentic as possible.

 

Figure 1.  The HiFi-GAN Process

While both systems use DL, MuseNet, used for Sample Song B, is not a text-to-speech system, and is instead a music composition generator that uses a transformer model, which is illustrated in Figure 2 below. MuseNet uses MIDI files encompassing a wide variety of musical styles as its training data.44Christine Payne, MuseNet, OpenAI (Apr. 25, 2019), https://openai.com/index/musenet [https://perma.cc/2WBS-4T88]. MIDI files, unlike conventional audio files, contain information on the notes and how those notes are to be played, which allows the model to “extract patterns in the way notes are played, with what instruments, and for how long.” Raghav Srinivasan, MuseNet and the Future of AI, Medium (Mar. 31, 2021), https://raghav-srinivasan.medium.com/musenet-and-the-future-of-ai-f0a971fc6ed7 [https://perma.cc/XYA9-NF88]. In training the system, sequential data is provided in the form of sets of notes, and it is asked to predict what the next note will be.45Payne, supra note 44. Data is encoded in a way that “combines expressivity with conciseness.”46Id. Similar to the adversarial elements of Uberduck, MuseNet has an “inner critic” during training which asks the model if a sample was generated by the model or from the dataset.47Id. Additionally, MuseNet created composer and instrumentation tokens which are used during training to teach the model to utilize such information when making predictions; the result is that the model can be conditioned to generate output in a certain style using prompts.48Id. Essentially, MuseNet uses the music styles and MIDI files it has been trained on to generate note sequences that sound realistic, as if human-generated.49Srinivasan, supra note 44.

 

Figure 2.  Transformer Model Training

With the internal side of the technology having been established, the next component is the user side. When using Uberduck—specifically the “AI Generated Rap” feature used to create Sample Song A—the user is able to select a beat from a list of premade generic beats.50AI Generated Rap Beat, Uberduck, https://www.uberduck.ai/app/rap#beat [https://perma.cc/3TPM-RVHG]. The other options are simpler “Text to Voice” and “Voice to Voice” features. Id. After that is chosen, users have a choice to input custom lyrics or utilize Uberduck’s AI lyric generator, which requires entering a detailed “description of what you want your rap to be about.”51Id. Finally, the user selects an artist from a list of “[r]appers” to be the voice of their song.52Id. Users are also able to use their own voice, but that is not relevant to this discussion since there would likely not be anything to point to in the output as infringing if the lyrics are original and one’s own voice is the basis of the audio. Uberduck’s interface has since changed, but previously certain artists had several options, indicating different eras of their music. The end result is a complete rap song. As for MuseNet, the initial prompts include style, introduction, instruments, and number of tokens.53Devin Coldewey, MuseNet Generates Original Songs in Seconds, from Bollywood to Bach (or Both), TechCrunch (Apr. 25, 2019, 1:31 PM), https://techcrunch.com/2019/04/25/musenet-generates-original-songs-in-seconds-from-bollywood-to-bach-or-both [https://perma.cc/Z78E-QWS9]. Style options range from Mozart to Lady Gaga to Disney.54Id.; Payne, supra note 44. Similarly, the introduction options cover a wide range, including the intro from “Someone Like You” by Adele, which is used in Sample Song B.55Coldewey, supra note 53. The number of tokens used corresponds to the length of the song. The end product is a musical composition, to which lyrics can be added outside the platform.56This can be done through simple applications, such as GarageBand, or more advanced technology like that used in a professional music studio. An interesting note that could be studied in the future is that, theoretically, lyrics could be generated in the voice of an artist using a system like Uberduck and added to a composition from a system like MuseNet utilizing an outside application. While the result may sound disjointed or unnatural, it may raise interesting copyright or trademark issues with regard to the interaction of vocal style, musical style, and potential fragmented literal similarity with regard to the music.

C. Copyright Office on AI

In August 2023, the U.S. Copyright Office (“Office”) published a notice of inquiry on copyright and AI, which followed the March 2023 launch of the Office’s AI Initiative.57Notice of Inquiry, 88 Fed. Reg. 59942 (Aug. 30, 2023). This inquiry specifically focused on policy issues relating to copyrighted works being used to train models, the copyrightability of AI-generated works, potential liability for AI-generated work that infringes on a copyright, and how to treat AI-generated works that imitate artists.58Id. at 59945. In July 2024, the Office published Part 1 of the Report on Copyright and Artificial Intelligence (“Report”), which addresses the topic of digital replicas.59See generally U.S. Copyright Off., Copyright and Artificial Intelligence Part 1: Digital Replicas (2024). Specifically referencing “Heart on My Sleeve,” the Office ultimately concluded that it believes the time has come for a new federal law to address unauthorized digital replicas.60Id. at 7. It is of note that the U.S. Copyright Office (“Office”) uses the term “digital replicas” to refer to “video[s], image[s], or audio recording[s] that [have] been digitally created or manipulated to realistically but falsely depict an individual,” and uses the term “deepfake” interchangeably. Id. at 2. With respect to copyright law specifically, the Office broadly indicated that a victim of a digital replica in the form of a musical work may have a claim for infringement of the copyrighted work, but clarified that a replica of one’s voice alone does not seem to constitute copyright infringement.61Id. at 17. Because Part 1 of the Report provides little insight with respect to the potential vitality of such copyright claims and primarily focuses on legislative suggestions, the Office’s previous statements and approaches in similar technology-related contexts remain potentially revelatory.

While this inquiry is the Office’s most comprehensive look into AI, it is not the first time it has addressed AI. The Office addressed concerns about technology-generated works in 1965, especially after receiving an application for registration of a “musical composition created by a computer.”62U.S. Copyright Off., 68th Annual Report of the Register of Copyrights 4–5 (1966). Although the issues posed by AI today are, in many respects, far more complex given the vast technological advancements in recent years, the general questions about how non-human-generated works fit or do not fit into copyright have been pondered for nearly six decades. The Office, in operating a copyright registration system, necessarily adjusts its practices according to shifts in technology.63Oversight of the U.S. Copyright Office: Hearing Before the Subcomm. on Cts., Intell. Prop. & the Internet of the H. Comm. on the Judiciary, 113th Cong. 4 (2014) (statement of Maria A. Pallante, Register of Copyrights and Director of the U.S. Copyright Office). In deciding whether to register a claim, a “registration specialist” is tasked with determining whether a work qualifies as copyrightable subject matter and satisfies the formal and legal requirements of the copyright statutes and the Office’s practices.64U.S. Copyright Off., Compendium of U.S. Copyright Office Practices § 206 (3d ed. 2021). As such, the Office’s practices regarding what is registered generally reflect contemporary understandings of the scope of copyright law in light of modern developments.

The question of copyright protection for AI-generated works has notably been addressed in three recent situations. The first situation, which ripened into litigation, involved the Office’s denial of registration for “A Recent Entrance to Paradise,” an artwork created by an AI system, the “Creativity Machine,” which was listed as the author. The Office cited the lack of human authorship as its basis for denial, a requirement that derives from the statutory criteria that protection is extended only to “original works of authorship.”65Letter from U.S. Copyright Off. Rev. Bd. to Ryan Abbott, Esq., at 2–3 (Feb. 14, 2022); 17 U.S.C. § 102. While “original work of authorship” is not defined statutorily, courts have uniformly interpreted it to limit protection to human authors,66See Burrow-Giles Lithographic Co. v. Sarony, 111 U.S. 53, 61 (1884) (using the words “man” and “person” to describe an author); Goldstein v. California, 412 U.S. 546, 561 (1973) (describing an author as an “individual”); Kelley v. Chi. Park Dist., 635 F.3d 290, 304 (7th Cir. 2011) (“[A]uthorship is an entirely human endeavor.” (citation omitted)). and the Office has adhered to that.67U.S. Copyright Off., supra note 64, at § 306. The Office also rejected the argument that AI can be an author under a “work-for-hire” theory.68U.S. Copyright Off. Rev. Bd., supra note 65, at 6–7 (explaining that an AI system cannot enter into a contract). The user challenged the denial as an “arbitrary, capricious, . . . abuse of discretion . . . not in accordance with the law, . . . and in excess of [the Office’s] statutory authority.”69Thaler v. Perlmutter, 687 F. Supp. 3d 140, 144 (D.D.C. 2023). The court upheld the denial, stating the lack of human involvement pointed to the “clear and straightforward answer” that it does not give rise to copyright.70Id. at 146–47, 150 (describing the human authorship requirement as a “bedrock requirement of copyright,” following from the statutory text that limits protection to “original works of authorship”). The court did not address the plaintiff’s theories of ownership but mentioned that “doctrines of property transfer cannot be implicated where no property right exists to transfer in the first instance,” and the “work-for-hire provisions of the Copyright Act” similarly presume that there is an existing right that can be claimed. Id. This situation differs from a second scenario in which the Office registered “Zarya of the Dawn,” a comic book created using an AI system known as Midjourney.71Letter from U.S. Copyright Off. to Van Lindberg 1–2 (Feb. 21, 2023). The images in the book were created by Midjourney in response to the user’s text prompts, but the user did not control the creation process; as such, the images themselves were not protectable based on the human authorship requirement, so copyright extended only to the text she wrote herself and the selection and arrangement of the elements of the book, including the images.72Id. at 6–12. The registration of the work explicitly excluded “artwork generated by [AI].” Id. at 12. The third situation involved the denial of copyright registration for an AI-generated artwork entitled “Théâtre D’opéra Spatial” based on the Office’s conclusion that it contained “more than a de minimis amount of content generated by [AI].”73Letter from U.S. Copyright Off. Rev. Bd. to Tamara Pester, Esq. 1–3 (Sept. 5, 2023). The Office offered to register the work if the user would exclude AI-generated features, as there were some elements of human creation, but he refused and challenged that requirement; nonetheless, the Office stood by the requirement of disclosing AI-generation.74Id. at 7–8

Due to situations like these,75Note that this excludes “Théâtre D’opéra Spatial,” which occurred after the statement.  the Office clarified how AI-generated works are examined and registered in a recent statement.76Copyright Registration Guidance: Works Containing Material Generated by Artificial Intelligence, 88 Fed. Reg. 16190, 16190 (Mar. 16, 2023). In the statement, the Office explains that in making registration decisions about works created using AI, the first question is whether the work is “basically one of human authorship, with the computer [or other device] merely being an assisting instrument,” or if a machine conceived and executed the traditional elements of human authorship.77Id. at 16192. The Office notes that when AI systems receive prompts from humans that enable the generation of “complex . . . musical works,” the author is the technology, not the prompt-writing human, so it would not be registered.78Id. This scenario is an example of a work in which the “traditional elements of authorship” are attributable to a machine and therefore lack the requisite human authorship for copyright protection. The Office states that there are cases in which AI is used in conjunction with sufficient human effort to permit registration. In such situations, copyright protects only human-authored elements.79Id. at 16192–93. While AI adds nuance to registration inquiries, an important takeaway is that the Office stands firmly behind the human authorship requirement.

II. LEGAL BACKGROUND: COPYRIGHT LAW

Codified in Title 17 of the United States Code, the Copyright Act of 1976 (“Copyright Act”), including its subsequent amendments, is the governing source of copyright law.8017 U.S.C. §§ 101–1511. Congressional authority to enact such legislation arises from the “Copyright Clause” in the U.S. Constitution, which vests in Congress the power to “promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries.”81U.S. Const. art. 1, § 8, cl. 8. In the time since the enactment of the Copyright Act, there have been many amendments, resulting in a large body of law that simultaneously outlines rules and requirements with specificity and leaves considerable room for judicial interpretation.

A. Requirements for Protection

Under the Copyright Act, copyright “subsists . . . in original works of authorship fixed in any tangible medium of expression, now known or later developed, from which they can be perceived, reproduced, or otherwise communicated, either directly or with the aid of a machine or device.”8217 U.S.C. § 102(a). Copyright does not extend to underlying ideas.83Id. § 102(b) (“In no case does copyright protection . . . extend to any idea, procedure, process, system, method of operation, concept, principle, or discovery . . . .”); Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. v. Nation Enters., 471 U.S. 539, 547 (1985) (“[N]o author may copyright facts or ideas. . . . [C]opyright is limited to those aspects of the work—termed ‘expression’—that display the stamp of the author’s originality.”). The Copyright Act explicitly includes “musical works, including any accompanying words” and “sound recordings.”8417 U.S.C. § 102(a)(2), (7). Generally, the requirements for copyright protection break down into four separate but interrelated requirements: (1) work of authorship, (2) tangible fixation, (3) originality, and (4) creativity.

Legislative history indicates that the phrase “work of authorship” is intended to provide flexibility.85Id. § 102(a); H.R. Rep. No. 94-1476, at 51 (1976). The broad categories of works of authorship in § 102 of the Copyright Act are illustrative, not exclusive.86H.R. Rep. No. 94-1476, at 53 (1976) (noting that the general outline provides for “sufficient flexibility to free the courts from rigid or outmoded concepts of the scope of particular categories”). As mentioned, this requirement has been interpreted to require human authorship, but the Office’s recent statement suggests technology can be involved in the “authorship,” so long as there is sufficient human involvement.87Copyright Registration Guidance: Works Containing Material Generated by Artificial Intelligence, 88 Fed. Reg. 16190, 16190 (Mar. 16, 2023). What constitutes “sufficient” involvement remains to be determined. A work satisfies the fixation requirement if it is fixed in a “tangible medium of expression” that is “sufficiently permanent or stable.”8817 U.S.C. § 101. A “phonorecord” is defined as a “material object[] in which sounds, . . . are fixed by any method now known or later developed, and from which the sounds can be perceived, reproduced, or otherwise communicated, either directly or with the aid of a machine or device.” A “copy,” on the other hand, is a “material object[], other than [a] phonorecord[], in which a work is fixed by any method now known or later developed, and from which the work can be perceived, reproduced, or otherwise communicated, either directly or with the aid of a machine or device.” Id. Congress has indicated that fixation form does not matter.89H.R. Rep. No. 94-1476, at 52. A fixed composition may be written sheet music, while a fixed sound recording may be a recording saved onto a compact disc.90 U.S. Copyright Off., supra note 64, at § 803.4.

Fixed works of authorship must also satisfy the requirements of originality and creativity,91Some characterize originality as “embodying creativity,” while others view creativity as a “necessary adjunct to originality.” 1 Melville B. Nimmer & David Nimmer, Nimmer on Copyright § 2.01(B)(2) (Matthew Bender, rev. ed. 2024). Regardless of the characterization, the two require distinction from one another. which require “independent creation plus a modicum of creativity.”92Feist Publ’ns, Inc. v. Rural Tel. Serv. Co., 499 U.S. 340, 346 (1991). The Court in Feist explained that the originality requirement is “not particularly stringent,” as it “requires only that the author make the selection or arrangement independently (i. e., without copying that selection or arrangement from another work), and that it display some minimal level of creativity.” Id. at 358. Therefore, so long as the work is independently created, a lack of novelty does not preclude copyright protection.931 Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 91, § 2.01(A)(1) (“[A] work is original and may command copyright protection even if it is completely identical with a prior work, provided it was not copied from that prior work but is instead a product of the independent efforts of its author.”). The “modicum of creativity” standard is a relatively low threshold, requiring only that the work goes beyond independent effort94See Feist, 499 U.S. at 345 (“[T]he requisite level of creativity is extremely low; even a slight amount will suffice.”). and bears a “spark of distinctiveness in copyrightable expression.”95Clanton v. UMG Recordings, Inc., 556 F. Supp. 3d 322, 331 (S.D.N.Y. 2021). 

There are unique considerations with regard to these requirements in the context of musical works because determining the requisite creativity in music can be contentious.961 Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 91, § 2.05(B) (“As applied to music, the requirement of originality is straightforward . . . . It is within the domain of creativity that special considerations rise to the fore.”). It is important to note that courts typically combine originality and creativity under the term “originality,” requiring a closer look at which requirement is really being addressed. Id. § 2.01(B)(2). Creativity is said to inhere in one of three key elements of a musical work—harmony, melody, or rhythm.97Newton v. Diamond, 204 F. Supp. 2d 1244, 1249 (C.D. Cal. 2002), aff’d, 388 F.3d 1189 (9th Cir. 2004). While the typical source of protection for compositions is melody, courts vary in this regard, with sufficient creativity being found and denied on each basis.98See, e.g., N. Music Corp. v. King Rec. Distrib. Co., 105 F. Supp. 393, 400 (S.D.N.Y. 1952) (suggesting that finding creativity in rhythm is rare, if not impossible, and harmony is not likely the subject of copyright in itself); Santrayll v. Burrell, No. 91-cv-3166, 1996 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 3538, at *4 (S.D.N.Y. Mar. 25, 1996) (holding that repetition of word in a distinct rhythm was copyrightable); Levine v. McDonald’s Corp., 735 F. Supp. 92, 99 (S.D.N.Y. 1990) (suggesting that melody is not required for copyright if sufficient rhythm and harmony is present). Protection for musical works includes “accompanying words” or lyrics;9917 U.S.C. § 102(a)(2). when lyrics and musical elements are integrated into one work, they are protected together and on their own.100Marya v. Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., 131 F. Supp. 3d 975, 984 (C.D. Cal. 2015). Lyrics must also satisfy the requirements for protection, and whether lyrics qualify for protection is very situation-dependent.101Clanton v. UMG Recordings, Inc., 556 F. Supp. 3d 322, 332 (S.D.N.Y. 2021) (holding that the expression “I’m tryna make my momma proud” does not satisfy the creativity and originality requirement); TufAmerica, Inc. v. Diamond, 968 F. Supp. 2d 588, 604 (S.D.N.Y. 2013) (denying a motion to dismiss the claim which was based on the phrase “say what,” which was both in the song and the title). Note, however, that infringement claims regarding lyrics are often addressed more thoroughly in the context of fair use and substantial similarity. 

B. Rights Conferred by Copyright Ownership

Section 106 of the Copyright Act outlines the exclusive rights of a copyright holder, which broadly include reproduction, distribution, adaptation, performance, and display rights.10217 U.S.C. § 106. Actionable copying may pertain to infringement of any of these exclusive rights but must include infringement of at least one.103S.O.S., Inc. v. Payday, Inc., 886 F.2d 1081, 1085 n.3 (9th Cir. 1989) (“The word ‘copying’ is shorthand for the infringing of any of the copyright owner’s five exclusive rights, described at 17 U.S.C. § 106.”). AI-generated music is most likely to implicate the reproduction, adaptation, and distribution rights.

  1. Reproduction Right

The first exclusive right relevant to AI music is the right to “reproduce the copyrighted work in copies or phonorecords.”10417 U.S.C. § 106. The introductory language of § 106 further specifies that copyright owners have exclusive rights to authorize the exercise of the six rights. In the music context, a USB with a sound recording would qualify as a phonorecord, while a written composition of the song, like sheet music, would be considered a copy.105Copyright Registration of Musical Compositions and Sound Recordings, Copyright Off., https://www.copyright.gov/register/pas-r.html#:~:text=A%20musical%20composition%20may%20be,%2C%20spoken%2C%20or%20other%20sounds [https://perma.cc/Z6UG-FKHH]. It is important to distinguish a phonorecord from the actual recording: the sound recording itself is not a phonorecord, but the medium on which it is stored is. To infringe on the reproduction right, the subsequent work must be a tangible, material, fixed object. An important music-specific caveat in 17 U.S.C. § 114 (“section 114”) is that the reproduction right in recordings is “limited to the right to duplicate the sound recording in . . . phonorecords or copies that directly or indirectly recapture the actual sounds fixed in the recording.”10617 U.S.C. § 114(b) (emphasis added). This means that phonorecords with sounds that merely imitate the original sound, as opposed to actually recapturing the original sounds, do not infringe on the reproduction right, “even though such sounds imitate or simulate those in the copyrighted sound recording.”107Id. This has been interpreted as precluding liability for substantially similar imitations of a recording absent any exact copying; this is important in the context of music sampling, as it requires proof of exact duplication.108Bridgeport Music, Inc. v. Dimension Films, 410 F.3d 792, 800 (6th Cir. 2005) (“This means that the world at large is free to imitate or simulate the creative work fixed in the recording so long as an actual copy of the sound recording itself is not made.”).

  1. Adaptation Right

Copyright owners also have the exclusive right to “prepare derivative works based upon the copyrighted work,” as well as to authorize others to do so.10917 U.S.C. § 106(2). A derivative work is one that must be “based upon one or more pre-existing works,” which is interpreted to mean that a latter work incorporates a sufficient amount of the original work to go beyond mere inspiration.110Id. § 101; 2 Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 91, § 8.09(A)(1). The adaptation right is closely tied to the other exclusive rights, namely the reproduction and performance rights. When a work is deemed to be a derivative, there is a necessary implication that the reproduction or performance right was also infringed because the second work is substantially similar.111Twin Peaks Prods., Inc. v. Publ’ns Int’l, Ltd., 996 F.2d 1366, 1373 (2d Cir. 1993). With respect to sound recordings, the right to produce derivative works is limited to those in which “actual sounds fixed in the sound recording are rearranged, remixed, or otherwise altered in sequence or quality.”11217 U.S.C. § 114(b). The independent fixation exclusion to the reproduction right also applies to the adaptation right.113Id. (“The exclusive rights of the owner of copyright in a sound recording under clauses (1) and (2) . . . do not extend to the making or duplication of another sound recording that consists entirely of an independent fixation of other sounds, even though such sounds imitate or simulate those in the copyrighted sound recording.”). As with the reproduction right, this limitation finds notable importance in the realm of music sampling and licensing.114Bridgeport Music, Inc. v. Dimension Films, 410 F.3d 792, 800 (6th Cir. 2005).

  1. Distribution Right

The third exclusive right relevant to music is the right to “distribute copies or phonorecords of the copyrighted work to the public by sale or other transfer of ownership.”11517 U.S.C. § 106(3). To violate the distribution right, there must be a tangible product, whether a phonorecord or a copy. The distribution right in the music context involves the right to sell copies, like sheet music, and phonorecords, such as CDs, of the musical work to the public. In the context of Internet platforms, specifically music platforms for sharing sound recordings, there are questions as to whether making copyrighted works available to the public constitutes a violation of this right. Although courts have not unanimously agreed on the answer, it seems clear that making sound recordings available for download by the public on file sharing networks is likely sufficient to demonstrate infringement.1162 Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 91, § 8.11(D)(4)(a). This question would generally relate more to the potential liability of the generative AI platforms themselves, as opposed to users. For more background on the differing interpretations of this question, however, see generally A&M Recs., Inc. v. Napster, Inc., 239 F.3d 1004 (9th Cir. 2001); UMG Recordings, Inc. v. Hummer Winblad Venture Partners, 377 F. Supp. 2d 796 (N.D. Cal. 2005). Unlike the reproduction and adaptation rights, section 114 does not explicitly name the distribution right in limiting exclusive rights in a recording to exact copies; however, this is likely immaterial because a mere imitation of sounds in the original would seemingly fall outside the definition of the right as applying to distributing copies or phonorecords of the original work.117Section 114(b) only explicitly limits the reproduction and adaptation rights to literal duplications; however, if an independent fixation mimicking sounds is not a copy or phonorecord for the purposes of clauses (1) and (3) of section 106, it seems fair that same understanding would implicitly apply to clause (2); see 17 U.S.C. §§ 106, 114.

C. Additional Music-Specific Considerations

1. Musical Composition Versus Sound Recordings

One unique aspect of music copyright is that there are two sources of protection in a song: the musical composition and the sound recording.118A musical composition, which itself consists of music and lyrics, is typically the work of composers or lyricists, or both. A sound recording, often in the form of a master recording, is the “physical embodiment of a particular performance of the musical composition.” Hutson v. Notorious B.I.G., LLC, No. 14-2307, 2015 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 170733, at *9 n.2 (S.D.N.Y. Dec. 21, 2015). These are considered distinct elements of a musical work, with each being independently copyrightable.119Prior to the enactment of the Copyright Act, the 1909 Act required musical works to be recorded on sheet music or another manuscript in order to be protected, excluding protection for sound recordings as a matter of statutory law. 1 Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 91, §§ 2.05(A)(1)(a), 2.10(A)(1)(c). This Note, however, will focus exclusively on musical works that are governed by the Copyright Act, which protects compositions and recordings. While both elements are subject to the same requirements for protection, it is important to distinguish between the two, as the law applies differently to each in certain respects. This distinction plays an overall significant role in infringement actions, from whether something is actionable to what royalties are owed for a use.

While some cases have blurred the line between the composition and recording,120In Bridgeport Music, Inc. v. UMG Recordings, Inc., the court found infringement of the musical composition. Confusingly, however, this was based on the appropriation of elements exclusive to the sound recording, despite the fact that the plaintiff did not own the recording; not owning the recording would seemingly mean infringement of the recording would not be actionable, but the court allowed the suit to proceed. 585 F.3d 267, 276 (6th Cir. 2009). others reflect the importance of keeping them separate, as it is clear that determining applicable case law and potential arguments depends on whether the claim is based on recording or composition. Cases are also revelatory of how outcomes differ based on which element is allegedly infringed.121See, e.g., Newton v. Diamond, 204 F. Supp. 2d 1244, 1250–52, 1260 (C.D. Cal. 2002) (dismissing an infringement claim based on the composition because the alleged infringement related to elements of performance only reflected in the recording, which plaintiff neither owned nor alleged infringed), aff’d, 388 F.3d 1189 (9th Cir. 2004). Pertinent to this Note’s discussion, it is both possible and not necessarily uncommon for a work to infringe on the rights of ownership of the composition, but not the recording. Because infringement of the recording has been read to require actual duplication of sounds, a work that recreates but does not directly sample a guitar solo can infringe on the composition but give rise to no cause of action for infringement of the sound recording. Thus, this Note will continue to emphasize the line between these two elements, and how AI-generated music may or may not infringe on each.

  1. Licensing and Sampling

Licensing and sampling are unique considerations in the music context. Licensing, whether it is compulsory and imposed by the Copyright Act or voluntarily negotiated,122See 17 U.S.C. §§ 114–15. The central licensing provisions in the U.S. Copyright Act (“Copyright Act”) that would potentially be relevant in this context are those in §§ 114 and 115. Section 114 applies to sound recordings and § 115 applies to musical compositions. functions as a means of ensuring that owners are compensated for the use of their work. How licenses are obtained and what they allow a licensee to do depends on what aspect of the musical work is involved and who is seeking to license it. Central to the discussion in this Note, however, is the royalty aspect of licensing. Because the hypothetical uses analyzed in this Note did not involve licensing the songs, the artists did not receive compensation in royalty payments for these uses.

A very common practice in the music industry that potentially implicates the need for obtaining a license is sampling. “Sampling” refers to the practice of incorporating short segments of sound recordings into new recordings.123Newton, 388 F.3d at 1191. Typically, when the word sampling is used, it means there is a literal duplication of some portion of the original work, not merely an imitation.124This may be a question for the factfinder, however, as it is not always clear, or admitted, that a use was effectively “copied and pasted” rather than independently recreated. Because sampling involves using a clip in an identical sounding way or with limited alterations, the issues presented by sampling usually fall under the substantial similarity inquiry.125Newton, 388 F.3d at 1195 (explaining that the substantiality requirement applies throughout copyright law, including cases involving samples). Courts are divided on how to approach sampling, particularly with regard to whether applying the de minimis doctrine is appropriate. On one end of the spectrum, the Sixth Circuit in Bridgeport Music, Inc. v. Dimension Films held that sound recording owners have exclusive rights to sample their own recordings, which led to the strong recommendation to “[g]et a license or do not sample.”126Bridgeport Music, Inc. v. Dimension Films, 410 F.3d 792, 801 (6th Cir. 2005). The court explained that requiring licensing does not stifle creativity and will be kept under control by the market; it was also noted that sampling is “never accidental” because sampling involves knowledge of taking another’s work, thereby making licensing requirements fair. Id. This indicated a bright-line rule that any unauthorized use of the recording constitutes infringement, dispensing of the substantial similarity requirement as it pertains to sound recordings.127Id. at 801 n.18. This view has been sharply criticized by many courts on the other end of the spectrum. Rejecting the Bridgeport view, the Ninth Circuit in VMG Salsoul, LLC v. Ciccone held that the de minimis doctrine extends to sound recordings, thereby necessitating the usual substantial similarity inquiry.128VMG Salsoul, LLC v. Ciccone, 824 F.3d 871, 880–87 (9th Cir. 2016) (creating a circuit split with its holding that the de minimis exception applies to allegations of infringement involving sound recordings); see also Batiste v. Lewis, 976 F.3d 493, 505–06 (5th Cir. 2020); Saregama India Ltd. v. Mosley, 687 F. Supp. 2d 1325, 1338–41 (S.D. Fla. 2009), aff’d, 635 F.3d 1284 (11th Cir. 2011). As such, the assessment of sampling in AI-generated music will differ based upon whether the court applies a sampling friendly or unfriendly approach.

D. Copyright Infringement Actions

To establish an actionable copyright infringement claim, the owner must prove the following: (1) they own a valid copyright and (2) there has been copying of the original expression contained therein.12917 U.S.C. § 501(a)–(b); Feist Publ’ns, Inc. v. Rural Tel. Serv. Co., 499 U.S. 340, 361 (1991).

  1. Ownership of a Valid Copyright

As to the first requirement, valid copyright exists when an original work falls within the protectable subject matter of copyright law and adheres to statutory formalities, including fixation, duration, and national origin.130See Varsity Brands, Inc. v. Star Athletica, LLC, 799 F.3d 468, 476 (6th Cir. 2015), aff’d, 580 U.S. 405 (2017). Additionally, registration of the work with the Office is typically a prerequisite for an infringement claim and serves as prima facie evidence of both a valid copyright and ownership thereof.131Id. at 477. The second prong, ownership, is a legal conclusion based on relevant facts;13217 U.S.C. § 201. ownership is particularly important in the music context given the separation of the composition and recording. Once this is established, one can draw a conclusion as to which exclusive rights the owner has, which then form the basis of an infringement claim.

  1. Copying

Despite extensive similarity, there can be no infringement without copying. Actionable copying must relate to protectable elements of the original work.133Feist, 499 U.S. at 361. This requirement is best understood as consisting of two elements: factual copying and legal copying.134Peter Letterese & Assocs., Inc. v. World Inst. of Scientology Enters., 533 F.3d 1287, 1300 (11th Cir. 2008). Factual copying poses a purely factual question: did the defendant know of the protected work, have access to it, and use it in some way in the production of their work?135New Old Music Grp., Inc. v. Gottwald, 122 F. Supp. 3d 78, 85, 93 (S.D.N.Y. 2015). To establish that the defendant actually copied the original, direct or indirect evidence may be used.136Jorgensen v. Epic/Sony Recs., 351 F.3d 46, 51 (2d. Cir. 2003) (citation omitted). Absent direct proof, copying can be established circumstantially if the plaintiff can show the defendant “had access to the copyrighted material,”137Id. (citing Herzog v. Castle Rock Ent., 193 F.3d 1241, 1249 (11th Cir. 1999)). Access speaks to a “reasonable possibility” of access, not simply a “bare possibility.” Gaste v. Kaiserman, 863 F.2d 1061, 1066 (2d Cir. 1988). However, access may be inferred when the works are “so strikingly similar as to preclude the possibility of independent creation.” Repp v. Webber, 132 F.3d 882, 889 (2d Cir. 1997) (citation omitted). and similarities exist between the works that are “probative of copying.”138Jorgenson, 351 F.3d at 51 (citing Repp, 132 F.3d at 889).

Legal copying is often referred to as “improper appropriation” or “substantial similarity.”1394 Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 91, § 13D.02(B)(2). This Note will use the term “substantial similarity.” Copying does not require verbatim replication of the original work, rather it requires that copying result in the production of a substantially similar work.140Ringgold v. Black Ent. Television, Inc., 126 F.3d 70, 74 (2d Cir. 1997) (describing “substantial similarity” as the threshold for whether copying is actionable). Experts describe the question of when similarity rises to the level of “substantial” as one of the toughest questions in copyright law.1414 Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 91, § 13.03(A) (noting also that a “mere distinguishable variation [may] constitute a sufficient quantum of originality so as to support a copyright in such variation, that same distinguishable variation . . . may not sufficiently alter its substantial similarity to another” (internal quotations marks omitted)). Similarity exists on a spectrum, spanning from the most trivial similarities, which are not actionable, to absolute, literal similarity that renders a second work identical. One approach to similarity divides it into two types: “comprehensive nonliteral similarity” and “fragmented literal similarity.”142Id. Although this distinction has not widely been recognized by courts in an express manner, the terminology has been endorsed in a variety of cases and can be helpful in keeping straight the types of similarities that are presented in this Note’s sample songs. Comprehensive nonliteral similarity speaks to similarity in the “fundamental essence or structure” of a work. Fragmented literal similarity refers to duplication of literal elements of an original, but only in a fragmented manner, such as the exact duplication of only three lines of text. Fragmented literal similarity is often described as a de minimis doctrine, as the question gets at whether a use is de minimis or not.143See Warner Bros. Inc. v. ABC, 720 F.2d 231, 242 (2d Cir. 1983).

Regardless of the type of similarity involved, courts imposed one additional barrier for copying of protected elements to be actionable: the copying must not be de minimis.144De minimis non curat lex, usually shortened to de minimis, is a legal maxim that represents the idea that “[t]he law does not concern itself with trifles.” De minimis non curat lex, Black’s Law Dictionary (11th ed. 2019). In the context of copyright, “de minimis copying” can be understood as the opposite of substantial similarity.145Newton v. Diamond, 388 F.3d 1189, 1193 (9th Cir. 2004) (“To say that a use is de minimis because no audience would recognize the appropriation is thus to say that the use is not sufficiently significant.”). While the idea of de minimis copying sounds simple, its application is not necessarily straightforward because it is highly fact dependent. A de minimis determination pertains both to the quantity and quality of the use, therefore a “simple word count” is not alone enough to determine infringement.146Nihon Keizai Shimbun, Inc. v. Comline Bus. Data, Inc., 166 F.3d 65, 71 (2d Cir. 1999). In the music context, whether uses are deemed de minimis can vary greatly; in one instance, a six-second segment of a four-and-a-half-minute song was deemed a de minimis use,147Newton, 388 F.3d at 1195–96 (concluding that the portion used was neither quantitatively nor qualitatively important to the original work). but in another, a three-second orchestra sequence was not.148TufAmerica, Inc v. Diamond, 968 F. Supp. 2d 588, 606–07 (S.D.N.Y. 2013) (holding that a sequence was repeated in the original work and ultimately constituted fifty-one seconds, which gave it qualitative and quantitative importance).

Courts have developed a wide variety of approaches to determine when similarity rises to the level of substantial in these types of cases. The three test categories that are most commonly used in similar music-related cases are the extrinsic-intrinsic, ordinary observer, and fragmented literal similarity tests.149There are other judicially formulated tests for substantial similarity, but these three appear to be the most commonly used in music cases, particularly in recent years. While they each take slightly different approaches to determining the presence of substantial similarity, they are all ultimately rooted in the foundational question of whether there is similarity in those elements to which copyright protection would extend.

  1. Fair Use Defense

Section 107 carves out a limitation on exclusive rights, commonly known as the fair use defense. Four factors are considered in determining whether a use is a fair use:

(1) [T]he purpose and character of the use, including whether such use is of a commercial nature or is for nonprofit educational purposes; (2) the nature of the copyrighted work; (3) the amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the copyrighted work as a whole; and (4) the effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work.15017 U.S.C. § 107.

While the Copyright Act dictates that these four factors “shall” be considered, how they have actually factored in has developed over time through judicial interpretation. The seminal case that guides all applications of the fair use defense is Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, Inc., a 1994 Supreme Court case that addressed a musical parody.151Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, Inc., 510 U.S. 569, 572 (1994) (holding that the commerciality prong of a fair use analysis is insufficient to determine whether a use qualifies for the § 107 exception). The Court cautioned against simplifying the analysis to bright-line rules, emphasizing that fair use determinations must be done on a case-by-case basis, weighing each factor together.152Id. at 577–78 (“The fair use doctrine thus permits [and requires] courts to avoid rigid application of the copyright statute when, on occasion, it would stifle the very creativity which the law is designed to foster.”) (alteration in original) (citation omitted) (internal quotation marks omitted). While the general principles from Campbell remain, the Supreme Court recently addressed fair use again in Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc. v. Goldsmith, in which the Court limited the fair use defense with regard to the first factor’s transformation inquiry.153Andy Warhol Found. for the Visual Arts v. Goldsmith, 598 U.S. 508 (2023). This holding was likely welcomed by lower courts who criticized how the factor had expanded. See Kienitz v. Sconnie Nation LLC, 766 F.3d 756, 758 (7th Cir. 2014) (“[Courts have] run with the suggestion [of transformative use] and concluded that [it] is enough to bring a modified copy within the scope of § 107.”). This will likely have particular salience in infringement cases involving AI because AI is inherently transformative; however, this type of transformation may not hold as much weight under the new understanding of the first factor post-Goldsmith.

While fair use is regularly litigated in many copyright cases generally, musicians tend to avoid it.154Edward Lee, Fair Use Avoidance in Music Cases, 59 B.C. L. Rev. 1873, 1877 (2018). This initially seems odd given that the seminal case for fair use, Campbell, involves music; but Campbell is really a parody case. Outside the context of parody,155There has been at least one case finding fair use of copyrighted music by schools, but that is excluded from this discussion because the court found that the use fell “plainly within the enumerated fair use purposes of teaching and nonprofit education,” so the analysis was very different. Tresóna Multimedia, LLC v. Burbank High Sch. Vocal Music Ass’n, 953 F.3d 638, 654 (9th Cir. 2020). Estate of Smith v. Cash Money Records, Inc., is the only federal case recognizing a songwriter’s fair use in copying another song.156Estate of Smith v. Cash Money Recs., Inc., 253 F. Supp. 3d 737, 752 (S.D.N.Y. 2017). This case is described as a music case but involved only lyrics. Some have questioned whether the use should have even really been considered a “musical work” because it was a spoken acapella rap. Lee, supra note 154, at 1876. There is one other case, Chapman v. Maraj, in which the court said the use of part of a song in a non-parodic manner was fair use. Chapman v. Maraj, No. 18-cv-09088, 2020 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 198684, at *34 (C.D. Cal. Sept. 16, 2020). However, in Chapman, the use was never released and was only for “artistic experimentation” while waiting on license approval from the owner. Id. at *33.  While artist-defendants have pled fair use in their answers to infringement cases, they typically defend their work on other grounds.157Compare Answer of Defendants at 28, Skidmore v. Led Zeppelin, 2016 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 51006 (C.D. Cal. Apr. 8, 2016) (No. 15-3462) (asserting a fair use affirmative defense), with Skidmore v. Led Zeppelin, 952 F.3d 1051, 1079 (9th Cir. 2020) (affirming conclusion that there was no infringement, but not discussing fair use at all). A 2018 empirical study revealed that, up to that point, no defendant had successfully established a non-parody fair use of another work’s musical notes.158Lee, supra note 154, at 1878. Therefore, how fair use will operate in this context will be somewhat speculative.

III.  APPLICATION AND ANALYSIS

A.  Sample Song A

Sample Song A is highly similar to “Heart on My Sleeve” by “Fake Drake.” While it sounds deceptively like Kanye West, both in the voice and in that it employs lyrics that intentionally evoke similar themes to his recent works, these similarities are highly unlikely to be cognizable under copyright law for several reasons. Rather than being copyright infringement, this Kanye-inspired song is almost certain to be considered what the courts have called a “soundalike.” But because songs like this have already been the source of contention regarding music and copyright, it is helpful to understand the basis for why this is unlikely to be a successful claim.

For the purposes of this application, it is assumed that there are valid copyrights for the songs from Yeezus that were used in creating Sample Song A, including “Black Skinhead.” It is also assumed that West owns the valid copyrights for both the sound recordings and underlying compositions.159West’s label likely owns the rights to Yeezus and “Black Skinhead,” but the copyright ownership is attributed to West for the ease of application; see Detailed Record View: Registration Record SR0000724178, Copyright Pub. Recs. Sys., https://publicrecords.copyright.gov/detailed-record/26242659 [https://perma.cc/33D7-8XDX] (Yeezus registration); Detailed Record View: Registration Record PA0001890242, Copyright Pub. Recs. Sys., https://publicrecords.copyright.gov/detailed-record/26654806 [https://perma.cc/Q7ZD-ESAZ] (“Black Skinhead” registration). It is important to note, as earlier, that there may be an important discussion to be had regarding copyright liability on the part of the owner of the AI system or program, as they are trained on these songs. For the purpose of this Note, however, that claim is being set aside to instead focus on output liability. Thus, the first requirement of a copyright infringement claim, ownership of a valid copyright, is presumed to be satisfied. This means that West is entitled to the exclusive rights outlined in the Copyright Act. Infringement of one of these rights must be the basis of his claim against User A, which presents just one of many road bumps in an attempted lawsuit based on this type of activity: copying as it relates to his voice or style can pertain only to the sound recording. As such, he is limited to claiming infringement on his right to reproduce, adapt, distribute, and perform the sound recording.16017 U.S.C. §§ 106, 114. Note that the public performance right noted here is only that which pertains to the sound recording, meaning performance by means of digital audio transmission. Id. § 106(6).

  1. Factual Copying

Whether or not there is any possibility of an actionable claim will depend on the second requirement of copying, which is divided into two prongs: factual copying and legal copying. West’s claim would most likely have to rest on an infringement of a right associated with “Black Skinhead” specifically because satisfying the copying requirements for an entire album comprised of a variety of types of songs seems very unlikely. Turning first to factual copying, this prong asks the question of whether the defendant knew of, had access to, and in some way used the protected work in the production of their work. This requirement would seemingly be satisfied by the AI system’s owner, as the question could be answered by looking at the songs the system is trained on to produce work that sounds like West. However, it is likely more complicated when the infringer is merely the user who is not responsible for or involved with inputting data. While the prompt used by User A strongly suggests their desire and intent to use Yeezus and “Black Skinhead” in some way, it is not obvious whether this satisfies the factual copying requirement. This inquiry raises two key questions: can the use by Uberduck be imputed onto User A or can indirect evidence be used to sufficiently prove factual copying by User A themselves?

While it can arguably be assumed that Uberduck is trained on Yeezus and “Black Skinhead” given its option of West’s voice in the style of Yeezus, it cannot be verified for certain absent an admission from Uberduck’s programmer. However, this is not detrimental to a claim by West because factual copying can be proven using indirect evidence, which requires only demonstrating that defendant had access to the copyrighted work and that there are substantial similarities between the works that are “probative of copying.”161Jorgensen v. Epic/Sony Recs., 351 F.3d 46, 51 (2d Cir. 2003) (quoting Repp v. Webber, 132 F.3d 882, 889 (2d Cir. 1997)). While access cannot be demonstrated by showing a bare possibility that the defendant accessed it, a reasonable possibility of access can.162Id. (citing Gaste v. Kaiserman, 863 F.2d 1061, 1066 (2d Cir. 1988)). Where these two key questions diverge is on how that possibility of access is demonstrated, whether it be access by the system imputed onto User A or access by User A themselves. Starting with the system, the offering of a Yeezus-style voice suggests a reasonable possibility of access to “Black Skinhead” for a few reasons. First, from a technological perspective, Uberduck utilizes DL, which alone requires significant amounts of data input for the system to learn; for a model to be able to replicate West’s voice from a specific album, it can be inferred that the whole album would have been used to provide as much learning material as possible to create the most authentic results. So-VITS-SVC, the specific DL model Uberduck uses to make songs that sound like West, involves a process of using relevant source audios of West to separate out his voice, which is then encoded to analyze and use the distinctive characteristics of his voice from those songs. Additionally, the HiFi-GAN model that Uberduck uses helps to train the generator to recognize authentic versus fake West samples until it can produce highly realistic-sounding speech.

Asserting that the voice can sound specifically like West in Yeezus, together with the technological understanding that this would require as much relevant training data as possible, it seems fair to conclude it is reasonably possible that the system had access to “Black Skinhead,” which is one of only ten songs on the album. Even considering the unlikely possibility that not all ten songs were used to create a Yeezus-inspired voice, it seems very reasonable to conclude that “Black Skinhead” would be used because it was the first single released from the album,163David Greenwald, Kanye West Prepping ‘Black Skinhead’ as First ‘Yeezus’ Single, Billboard (June 28, 2013), https://www.billboard.com/music/rb-hip-hop/kanye-west-prepping-black-skinhead-as-first-yeezus-single-1568684 [https://perma.cc/UD8X-P5BT]. it has since been certified platinum in the United States three times, and West performed it repeatedly,164Gold & Platinum, RIAA, https://www.riaa.com/gold-%20platinum/?se=Kanye+west&tab_active=default-award&col=title&ord=asc [https://perma.cc/RL72-KN2Q].   all of which arguably make it a hallmark of the Yeezus era.165See, e.g., Miriam Coleman, Kanye West Unleashes the Fury of ‘Black Skinhead’ on ‘SNL’, Rolling Stone (May 19, 2013), https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/kanye-west-unleashes-the-fury-of-black-skinhead-on-snl-167279 [https://perma.cc/E7NF-26Y6]; Edwin Ortiz, Watch Kanye West Perform “Black Skinhead” on “Le Grand Journal”, Complex (Sept. 23, 2013), https://www.complex.com/music/a/edwin-ortiz/kanye-west-black-skinhead-performance-on-le-grand-journal [https://perma.cc/LKP8-6ZXB]; Marc Hogan, Drake Welcomes Kanye West for ‘Black Skinhead’ Live in Berlin, Spin (Feb. 28, 2014), https://www.spin.com/2014/02/drake-kanye-west-black-skinhead-berlin-live-video [https://web.archive.org/web/20240524193340/https://www.spin.com/2014/02/drake-kanye-west-black-skinhead-berlin-live-video]. It is difficult to imagine a Yeezus-style voice could be trained without the use of this song. Technology aside, access can also be shown through a theory of widespread dissemination,166Three Boys Music Corp. v. Bolton, 212 F.3d 477, 482 (9th Cir. 2000), overruled by Skidmore v. Led Zeppelin, 952 F.3d 1051 (9th Cir. 2020) (overruling the use of the inverse ratio rule). and, for the reasons just stated, “Black Skinhead” was clearly widely disseminated. However, this theory of access is likely not applicable to the system itself outside the context of liability for input.

Having established a relatively strong claim of reasonably likely access, the next question turns on whether that access could be imputed onto User A. Courts have held that there was a reasonable possibility of access by the defendant in certain circumstances in which such access is inferred based on an “intermediary.”167Jorgensen, 351 F.3d at 53. One iteration of this theory of access is that access can be inferred if the intermediary or third party is connected to the copyright owner and the infringer.168Gaste v. Kaiserman, 863 F.2d 1061, 1067 (2d Cir. 1988). Courts that have entertained this argument have varied on the relationship the intermediary must have with both parties, but a key characterization appears to be that it is a “close relationship,” which might be found when the intermediary contributes creative ideas to the infringer, supervises the infringer’s work, or has worked together in the same department as the infringer.169Jorgensen, 351 F.3d at 54–55; Towler v. Sayles, 76 F.3d 579, 583 (4th Cir. 1996); Meta-Film Assocs., Inc. v. MCA, Inc., 586 F. Supp. 1346, 1355–56 (C.D. Cal. 1984); Moore v. Columbia Pictures Indus., Inc., 972 F.2d 939, 942 (8th Cir. 1992). Note that some courts refer to this as the “Corporate Receipt Doctrine,” but not all, and that name might add potential confusion to this analysis. There are two wrinkles in trying to apply this argument here. First, most cases involve the intermediary being given the copyrighted work by the owner.170For example, in Jorgensen, the conclusion of access largely rested on the fact that the intermediary admitted to receiving the work and telling the owner he would forward it to the later infringer. 351 F.3d at 54–55. This is potentially less damaging because it still seems relevant whether the third party heard the song, as this also factors into the conclusions in addition to whether the intermediary was given a copy.171Lessem v. Taylor, 766 F. Supp. 2d 504, 509–11 (S.D.N.Y. 2011). Second, the relevant cases involving inferences based on intermediary access have involved a human intermediary.172There are discussions of Internet intermediaries in the context of copyright infringement, but these cases typically involve secondary liability because Internet programs were used to infringe, which is different from the issue of access. This may be particularly problematic for a plaintiff in a situation like West because it is hard to apply a framework of a close human relationship to the relationship between a computer program, a user, and input data. However, given the novelty of generative AI technology and the unique issues presented by generative AI music, there is a chance courts will not deem this fatal.

One reason to think courts may be flexible here is because of the expanded willingness to hold Internet intermediary sites vicariously or contributorily liable for failing to monitor infringing material available on or through the use of the Internet’s system.173See generally A&M Recs., Inc. v. Napster, Inc., 239 F.3d 1004 (9th Cir. 2001) (embracing an expansive understanding of vicarious liability in holding a music downloading platform liable for infringement by users). While this speaks more to potential liability of the system as the sole infringer, it may still help convince a court to accept arguments based on non-traditional assistance in infringement, which is required here to first find the technology to have been an intermediary, and then impute liability onto a user. An indication that courts may be less likely to consider an AI system to be an intermediary turns on the assessment of AI in Thaler v. Perlmutter. As discussed, the court in Thaler emphasized the importance of human authorship for copyright protection.174Thaler v. Perlmutter, 687 F. Supp. 3d 140, 142 (D.D.C. 2023). The court rejected the plaintiff’s “work-for-hire” argument, which he used to suggest that he had hired the AI system to create the painting for him; the court rejected the argument for several reasons, but most importantly noted that such provisions of the Copyright Act clearly only contemplated the involvement of humans as employees and the contractual relationship outlined in the provision required a meeting of the minds that cannot occur with a non-human entity.175Id. at 150 n.3. While again, this speaks to a different type of imputation onto technology, it nonetheless reflects a hesitancy to treat technology itself like a human. This provides good reason to question whether a court would find an AI system to be a sufficient intermediary to justify an inference of access.

Given that courts have at times expressed the need to be careful in imposing liability when infringement is not done directly,176Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc. v. Grokster, Ltd., 545 U.S. 913, 929 (2005) (explaining that there is a concern about imposing indirect liability based on the potential that it might “limit further development of beneficial technologies”). The Court in Grokster found that there was a powerful argument for imposing indirect liability in those circumstances, given the amount of infringement that was occurring on the platform, which was the party being held indirectly liable. Id. it is worth considering the possibility that a court assessing generative AI may have trepidations about holding a user liable for infringement that may technically be executed through the complex algorithm of an AI system without any input from the user besides a brief prompt.177Similar concerns may apply in a lawsuit against the platform, especially at this point when there remains much to be learned about how the technology actually works; however, this Note is focused on the liability of users, as the current state of technology often involves the use of multiple different platforms. However, case law has consistently indicated that a finding of infringement is not dependent upon finding that the defendant intended to infringe.178See Coleman v. ESPN, Inc., 764 F. Supp. 290, 294 (S.D.N.Y. 1991) (“Intent is not an element of copyright infringement.”); Pinkham v. Sara Lee Corp., 983 F.2d 824, 829 (8th Cir. 1992) (“[D]efendant is liable even for innocent or accidental infringement.”) (internal quotation marks omitted). As such, it seems unlikely that an individual could escape potential imputation of access by simply arguing they intended to use the system to create a new song, not to infringe on the copyright of another.

Assuming the inference of access could not be imputed onto User A by way of an intermediary theory, there remains the question of whether factual copying by User A can be proven through the same indirect evidence approach without any imputation or involvement of the AI system. As mentioned earlier, one avenue for demonstrating a reasonable probability of access is by pointing to widespread dissemination of the song, which certainly seems like an available option here.179Three Boys Music Corp. v. Bolton, 212 F.3d 477, 482 (9th Cir. 2000), overruled by Skidmore v. Led Zeppelin, 952 F.3d 1051 (9th Cir. 2020) (overruling the use of the inverse ratio rule). This assertion is likely bolstered by the fact that User A clearly knew of Yeezus, as they selected the Yeezus style, and had to have been familiar with the album generally because of the themes in their prompt. These facts, in addition to the widespread dissemination of the song and selection of a rap beat and lyrical themes so similar to “Black Skinhead” form a strong basis for concluding there is a reasonable likelihood of access to the song by User A. The potential issue that could arise is that User A may argue that they were not involved in the creation aside from the prompt and the few general selections. They may try to argue that, even if they had heard the song, this would not matter because their awareness was not involved in the actual creation of the song or what it sounds like. Ultimately, this would likely come down to a determination of whether the selections and prompt constitute sufficient involvement in the creation, but it seems possible that it would be enough because User A did in fact direct Uberduck in a very pointed direction, even if they did so through simple or general means. Additionally, this is unlikely to be where West’s case completely crumbles, and User A has stronger, more important arguments in other areas.

Even if access is proven, the factual copying prong remains unsatisfied until West can demonstrate probative similarity. The probative similarity prong is likely much more straightforward in this case than the access prong. The idea behind probative similarity is that, combined with a reasonable probability of access, a level of similarity will give rise to a reasonable inference that the copyrighted work served as the source for the allegedly infringing work.1804 Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 91, § 13D.06 Determining the presence of probative similarity requires an examination of the two works as wholes to assess whether similarities are those which would not be expected to arise independently.181Id. An important difference between this inquiry and the legal inquiry of substantial similarity is that probative similarity is not limited to protectable elements, meaning the inquiry takes a holistic approach focused on drawing a historical conclusion as to whether the copyrighted work was the basis in some way for the second work.182Positive Black Talk Inc. v. Cash Money Recs. Inc., 394 F.3d 357, 369–70 n.9 (5th Cir. 2004). This could give West a small glimmer of hope because the songs may sound sufficiently similar when compared side-by-side, especially given that unprotectable elements of his style and voice can technically be considered. Because the song sounds like West and expresses themes common to “Black Skinhead” and Yeezus more generally, a jury looking holistically at the two songs may find the similarity to be probative of copying. The level of similarity required to satisfy this requirement is lower than that of substantial similarity, as West must show only that Sample Song A overall is similar to “Black Skinhead” in a way that would be unexpected had User A not had access to the original.183Id. at 370; see also Ringgold v. Black Ent. Television, Inc., 126 F.3d 70, 75 (2d Cir. 1997) (explaining that the factual copying requirement of probative similarity “requires only the fact that the infringing work copies something from the copyrighted work; . . . [substantial similarity] requires that the copying is . . . sufficient to support the legal conclusion that infringement (actionable copying) has occurred”). But this is an uncertain outcome because it ultimately comes down to the jury’s assessment of how the songs actually sound and is not dependent upon any legal criteria aside from the general rule of what probative similarity is. Although there is a chance West might prevail on factual copying by demonstrating access and probative similarity, it is likely short-lived because the legal copying inquiry remains.

  1. Legal Copying

The end of the road for those like West who seek to vindicate their exclusive rights by legally challenging soundalikes almost certainly comes at the legal copying phase, if the claim even reaches that point. The substantial similarity prong of the copying requirement raises questions that a song like Sample Song A cannot satisfactorily answer. The chief problem here is that we are assuming the only real similarity is that it sounds like West’s voice or is sung in his distinctive style, neither of which are copyrightable elements of his work. The exclusion of voice and style from the scope of copyright protection was confirmed solidly in the well-known case Midler v. Ford Motor Co., in which Bette Midler lost on a claim of infringement based on a soundalike song that mimicked her voice almost exactly; the infringement claim relied solely on her voice, as the user had obtained rights to the song itself.184Midler v. Ford Motor Co., 849 F.2d 460, 461–62 (9th Cir. 1988). The Ninth Circuit stated bluntly that “voice[s] [are] not copyrightable,” as they are not fixed works of authorship as required by the Copyright Act.185Id. at 462. While West may try to point to the similar themes, copyright extends only to expression and not ideas. Regardless of what test is used, when a work is substantially similar only in regard to separate, unprotectable elements, there can be no infringement. There are instances in which unprotectable elements together can form the basis of substantial similarity, but that would not be possible when two songs do not sound alike aside from the voice and general genre or theme. Absent some concrete similarity, such as instrumental interludes, phrases, or even lyrics, there can be no actionable substantial similarity. Section 114 of the Copyright Act likely blocks this type of claim, as it states that the reproduction and adaptation rights do not extend to independent fixations, even if the recording imitates a copyrighted recording.18617 U.S.C. § 114(b). Therefore, Sample Song A would not qualify as a derivative work because, as a mere imitation, it cannot infringe on the adaptation right.

While all signs point to dismissal, there are two potential unique considerations that may be worth discussing. First, there is the question of whether Sample Song A should be considered a reproduction and adaptation, even though it is not the exact same, because the exact song was used to train the outputs of the generative AI system. Technically, AI is trained to the point that it can create its own patterns, but ultimately those are still developed using the copyrighted work. In the case of Sample Song A and Uberduck, So-VITS-SVC isolates the artist’s voice, uses that voice to create and encode frequency bands that correspond to the distinctive characteristics of the voice in that audio, and then learns to make audio that uses those frequencies. There is potentially an argument that this is a literal reproduction of sounds in a way that should be separated from the intangible concept of a voice or style, and instead look at it like a remixed sample of audio of West’s voice.187This argument would require convincing a court that the use of frequencies extracted from the songs is equivalent to sampling a section and remixing it to say something else. While from a technological standpoint this could theoretically be true, it is both a stretch and would be difficult to prove those frequencies came from a certain song in the first place. Under this theory, not only could the use be an infringement of the reproduction and distribution right, but Sample Song A would also potentially qualify as a derivative work, as it is a new song based on parts of West’s recording in “Black Skinhead.”188Frisby v. Sony Music Ent., No. 19-1712, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 51218, at *26–27 (C.D. Cal. Mar. 11, 2021). If this were to be considered a sample, under the Bridgeport view, this would qualify as infringement without even delving into the substantial similarity inquiry.189Bridgeport Music, Inc. v. Dimension Films, 410 F.3d 792, 801 (6th Cir. 2005) (“Get a license or do not sample.”). However, this is far from the only approach to sampling. Likely, the question of substantial similarity will remain central to determining whether this use of sampling constitutes infringement. As already discussed, Sample Song A and “Black Skinhead” cannot be substantially similar because their chief “similarity,” West’s voice and style, is not a protectable element of the song, so it would not be able to serve as the sole basis for infringement under any of the judicial tests. The use of West’s vocal frequency bands would likely be deemed a de minimis use, which is a use in which “the average audience would not recognize the appropriation.”190VMG Salsoul, LLC v. Ciccone, 824 F.3d 871, 878 (9th Cir. 2016) (quoting Newton v. Diamond, 388 F.3d 1189, 1193 (9th Cir. 2004)). It seems very unlikely that the average audience would recognize Sample Song A’s use of vocal frequency bands extracted from “Black Skinhead” and West’s other music, even though they might recognize that the voice generally sounds alike. This is certainly more complicated than an ordinary sampling inquiry because the use involves very small fragments used in very different ways; nonetheless, because the statutory language prohibits only that which is actually duplicated, the substantial similarity inquiry and de minimis interpretation would have to be based solely on those exact duplications of frequency bands. As such, if this is considered sampling, it would nonetheless likely be dismissed as a de minimis use.

However, even if the use is considered sampling, fair use will likely be an issue for West, whether or not the legal copying issue is addressed with a substantial similarity inquiry. If the sets of sounds from the source audio were actually sampled to make Sample Song A, they are fundamentally different because the frequencies inherently change when forming sounds that say different words. Therefore, if that could be considered an exact reproduction and adaptation of those sounds, it seems likely that a court would find that to be a fair use. While Goldsmith instructed the transformation inquiry to be reined in, this type of use is undeniably transformative in a way similar to the code transformed in Google LLC v. Oracle America, Inc.191See Andy Warhol Found. for the Visual Arts, Inc. v. Goldsmith, 598 U.S. 508, 527–41 (2023); Google LLC v. Oracle Am., Inc., 593 U.S. 1, 29–32 (2021). While the basis for the sound of West’s voice, the frequencies, were used, they were manipulated and restructured to such a significant degree, as evidenced by the creation of an entirely new set of lyrics rapped. This is comparable to the reverse engineering of object code in Sega Enterprises Ltd. v. Accolade, Inc., in which the Ninth Circuit found reverse engineering in order to transform code into something entirely new to be a fair use.192Sega Enters. Ltd. v. Accolade, Inc., 977 F.2d 1510, 1514–15 (9th Cir. 1992). In Sega, the court rejected the argument that a use in order to create competing products precludes a fair use finding, and emphasized the need to focus on several factors, including but not limited to commercial purposes; there, the use of copyrighted code was to understand the program’s mechanisms and then create something entirely new that would be compatible with the program, which outweighed its purpose of creating an ultimately commercial product.193Id. at 1522–23. Here, the decoding of songs into frequency bands could be understood as an attempt to understand why West’s voice sounds the way it does, and the subsequent use of such frequency bands to say new words and make an entirely new song is a transformative purpose sufficient to count toward a fair use. While User A likely hoped their song would achieve commercial success, that does not negate the transformative purpose behind their use of frequency bands from West’s music. Thus, the first fair use factor leans strongly in favor of the user.

As to the second factor, the nature of the work, West’s music is inherently creative, which tends to count against fair use.194Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, Inc., 510 U.S. 569, 586 (1994). However, this is often not the most significant factor, and courts have not refused to find a fair use in situations involving creative works.195The work at issue in Campbell was a song, as well, which is a work “closer to the core of intended copyright protection.” Id. The third factor, amount and substantiality used, counts very strongly in favor of fair use. Vocal frequency bands constitute a very small amount of everything that goes into a song. Considering that all other elements, including instrumentals and lyrics, are entirely different, the use of frequency bands is a minor taking from the original, although West may try to argue that whole songs, presumably including “Black Skinhead,” were encoded. In Sega, in which the entire program was encoded, the court noted that while that fact counts against fair use, the factor is of little weight when the actual use of that information is so limited.196Sega, 977 F.2d at 1526–27. Here, certainly not all of that which is encoded is used. What was encoded was a sufficient amount of frequency bands to analyze and understand vocal characteristics for future imitations;197Google LLC v. Oracle Am., Inc., 593 U.S. 1, 34 (2021) (“The ‘substantiality’ factor will generally weigh in favor of fair use where, as here, the amount of copying was tethered to a valid, and transformative, purpose.” (citation omitted)). while this may have involved a large number of frequency bands, that was what was required to serve the ultimately transformative purpose of creating a high-quality song that did not itself utilize all that was encoded for training purposes.198Estate of Smith v. Cash Money Recs., Inc., 253 F. Supp. 3d 737, 751 (S.D.N.Y. 2017) (finding that the third factor counted toward a fair use finding because the amount taken in sampling a song was “reasonable in proportion to the needs of the intended transformative use”). Because the third fair use factor asks about substantiality as well, there is an opening for West to try to argue that, even if frequency bands are one small part of a song, they are nonetheless substantial in relation to the whole work because they are responsible for creating his distinctive voice. This argument would face a few barriers, the first being that it is completely acceptable to make a song that simply sounds like someone else. Additionally, he may have a more compelling argument if those vocal frequencies were placed together and used to rap lyrics from one of his songs. But the frequency bands themselves, isolated from the other bands that together create his voice, are hardly the “heart” of his original work, especially with how they have been changed in Sample Song A.199Elsmere Music, Inc. v. Nat’l Broad. Co., 482 F. Supp. 741, 744 (S.D.N.Y. 1980) (holding that a small use was nonetheless substantial because the small amount used happened to be the “heart of the composition”).

The fourth fair use factor, the effect on the market, has received limited attention in the context of music. However, in Frisby v. Sony Music Entertainment, the court noted that two songs in the similar genres of rap and hip-hop were marketplace competitors.200Frisby v. Sony Music Ent., No. 19-1712, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 51218, at *40–41 (C.D. Cal. Mar. 11, 2021). As competitors, one copying the other could reasonably be expected to diminish the value and sales of the original.201Id. Here, Sample Song A and “Black Skinhead” are certainly in the same genre, so they may properly be considered competitors in the music market. Following the line of reasoning in Frisby, this means it can be assumed that Sample Song A would have a negative impact on the value of “Black Skinhead” and, further, would harm the market for derivatives because it was used without a license.202Id. at *41 (explaining that the harm to the market for derivatives must also be considered). Because sampling is so prevalent in the rap and hip-hop genres, this is particularly relevant here; West may argue that finding this a fair use would set the precedent that following proper sampling procedures is unnecessary. However, the facts here separate this case from that of Frisby because the potential sampling that occurred could have easily gone unnoticed absent the knowledge that it was created using an AI system that had encoded these vocal frequencies. To suggest that this use of “Black Skinhead” would have such a chilling effect on licensing in the industry seems to be taking Frisby’s presumptions too far.

Taking all four factors together, it seems that the highly transformative purpose and minimal amount used may be enough to weigh in favor of finding this to be a fair use, especially in light of the highly speculative arguments about market harm given that this does not involve sampling in the traditional sense. However, because the fourth factor is “undoubtedly the single most important element of fair use,”203Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. v. Nation Enters., 471 U.S. 539, 566 (1985). it is possible that if a court adopts the view that sampling without a license has such an impact on the market for future derivatives, the fourth factor could be enough to compel the finding that this is not fair use. Of course, this would be a judicial determination, so it is not impossible that a court would accept these arguments, but it does not seem overly promising at this point. Given how courts have viewed voice and style thus far, it seems like a stretch to imagine the argument that vocals are really just compilations of protectable sounds would suddenly work because of the technology involved.

The second consideration is that some may believe Williams v. Gaye opened the opportunity to argue style infringement. While the dissenting opinion in Gaye criticized the majority’s conclusion as endorsing the idea of copyright protection for a musical style,204Williams v. Gaye, 885 F.3d 1150, 1183–86 (9th Cir. 2018) (Nguyen, J., dissenting). the bases for infringement included elements like signature phrases, hooks, and structural similarities.205Id. at 1172. These were similarities that, although alone may not have been protected, together led to substantial enough similarity that a jury concluded rights had been infringed. While these elements could be considered aspects of the plaintiff-artist’s style, they clearly went beyond sounding like a voice. Additionally, Gaye focused on the composition, whereas Sample Song A’s mimicking of West’s voice could only speak to infringement of the recording because the alleged similarities relate only to what the vocals sound like, which is not fixed on a page like the phrases in Gaye. Putting aside the differences between Sample Song A and the infringing song in Gaye, a key weakness in West’s style argument and whether Gaye made that argument an option is that this idea has not been embraced by other courts. While some courts have embraced a “total concept and feel” test for substantial similarity, both on its own and as part of an “intrinsic” test,206See infra Sections III.B.2.i–ii. that test requires at least a claim based on original arrangement of unprotected elements.207Skidmore v. Led Zeppelin, 952 F.3d 1051, 1074 (9th Cir. 2020) (“We have extended copyright protection to a combination of unprotectable elements . . . only if . . . their selection and arrangement [are] original enough that their combination constitutes an original work of authorship.”) (citation omitted) (internal quotation marks omitted). Without some protectable element, whether it be lyrics or a drum beat,208See, e.g., New Old Music Grp., Inc. v. Gottwald, 122 F. Supp. 3d 78, 95 (S.D.N.Y. 2015). a similar “feeling” song will not pass a substantial similarity test.209See Skidmore, 952 F.3d at 1064 (explaining that “only substantial similarity in protectable expression may constitute actionable copying that results in infringement liability”) (emphasis added). Here, even if a lay person has an initial reaction that the songs sound similar because the voice mimics West, that, again, is not copyrightable. Given that there are no elements of the instrumental track or lyrics to be the basis of this claim because these are original lyrics and a generic rap beat unlike “Black Skinhead,” the mimicking of his voice is the only thing West could point to and that cannot pass the test. Therefore, even if Gaye introduced a way to litigate style infringement, which is debatable given other courts’ avoidance of such a conclusion, it appears that there must be some sort of protectable expression in that style to base one’s claim on. While West’s voice may evoke a certain aesthetic style and certainly speaks to his creative expression, there is nothing in that expression that can be the source of a successful claim here.

None of this discussion is intended to denigrate the frustration on the part of West and similarly situated artists who understandably want to fight back against AI-generated songs that intentionally mimic their voices and do so in a way that misleads listeners. This certainly reflects Drake’s perspective in response to “Heart on My Sleeve,” which nearly duped the world.210See Snapes, supra note 4 (following “Heart on My Sleeve,” Drake also fell victim to an AI-generated verse added to an Ice Spice song, to which he responded, “[t]his is the final straw AI.”). However, these valid concerns do not bear a clear or logical connection to copyright law and its subject matter. Instead, these concerns likely find more coherence in the protections afforded by the laws relating to trademark, unfair competition, and state rights of publicity, which are tailored to protect against the unauthorized use of one’s identity.211Jennifer E. Rothman, Navigating the Identity of Thicket: Trademark’s Lost Theory of Personality, the Right of Publicity, and Preemption, 135 Harv. L. Rev. 1271, 1272 (2022). This is not to suggest that such claims are certain to be successful, or even actionable, but the aims of those laws, which includes protecting identity, are likely more amenable to the concerns of West and others.212There may be barriers in these cases if there is reason for federal copyright law to preempt the rights of publicity. See generally Laws v. Sony Music Ent., Inc., 448 F.3d 1134 (9th Cir. 2006) (holding that right of publicity claims were preempted by the Copyright Act because the subject matter of the claim fell within the subject matter of the Copyright Act and the rights asserted were equivalent to those contained in the Copyright Act).

B. Sample Song B

Unlike Sample Song A, Sample Song B presents questions of infringement that, on their face, seem more likely to be answerable with copyright law. While Sample Song B also seems to generally mimic Adele’s style in “Someone Like You,” it importantly incorporates more than that, particularly by way of a nearly identical melodic hook. As with Sample Song A, it is assumed that Adele owns a valid copyright in both the sound recording and the musical composition of “Someone Like You.”213As with Sample Song A, this is for the purpose of streamlining the application, even though she likely does not own both herself; see Detailed Record View: Registration Record PA0001734868, Copyright Pub. Recs. Sys., https://publicrecords.copyright.gov/detailed-record/24702018 [https://perma.cc/ESH4-UFW8] (registration record for “Someone Like You” CD). Accordingly, Adele would have a potential claim for infringement upon her rights of reproduction, adaptation, distribution, and performance. With valid ownership established, the inquiry begins with the copying requirement as it pertains to the composition.

  1. Factual Copying

The trajectory for proving factual copying is much clearer for Sample Song B. On MuseNet, User B specifically selected the introduction from “Someone Like You” by Adele, and that introduction, though slightly modified, is present from the starting note of Sample Song B. If admitted or witnessed, this would constitute direct evidence of factual copying. However, direct proof is often unavailable because “[p]lagiarists rarely work in the open.”214Johnson v. Gordon, 409 F.3d 12, 18 (1st Cir. 2005). Nonetheless, it seems very likely that indirect evidence would satisfy this requirement. Regarding access, the theory of widespread dissemination would operate well here. When dealing with songs that have gained notable popularity, plaintiffs have tended to invoke a variety of data points to support theories of widespread dissemination including references to airplay frequency and locations, billboard charts, certifications, record sales, nominations and awards, and royalty revenues.215Batiste v. Lewis, 976 F.3d 493, 503 (5th Cir. 2020). See generally ABKCO Music, Inc. v. Harrisongs Music, Ltd., 722 F.2d 988 (2d Cir. 1983) (pointing to statistics such as weeks on the Billboard chart to support a theory of widespread dissemination); Guzman v. Hacienda Recs. & Recording Studio, Inc., 808 F.3d 1031 (5th Cir. 2015) (explaining that the lack of data representing widespread dissemination was problematic for the argument of inferring access). Here, Adele will be able to construct a very convincing claim of widespread dissemination because she can invoke all of these data points with regard to “Someone Like You”: the song has been streamed over two billion times on Spotify alone;216Adele, Spotify, https://open.spotify.com/artist/4dpARuHxo51G3z768sgnrY [https://perma.cc/QK28-W7PB]. won several awards, including a Grammy;217Grammy Awards 2012: Winners and Nominees, L.A. Times (Mar. 22, 2014), https://www.latimes.com/la-env-grammy-awards-2012-winners-nominees-list-htmlstory.html [https://perma.cc/QH9G-4WFT]. was certified platinum five times in the United States;218Gold & Platinum, RIAA, https://www.riaa.com/gold-platinum/?tab_active=default-award&ar=Adele&ti=Someone+like+You&format=Single&type=#search_section [https://perma.cc/668Y-6PJL]. and is the twenty-fifth-best-selling song of all time in the United Kingdom.219The Best-Selling Singles of All Time on the Official UK Chart, Off. Charts (Nov. 8, 2023), https://www.officialcharts.com/chart-news/the-best-selling-singles-of-all-time-on-the-official-uk-chart__21298 [https://perma.cc/VQ4J-FNZX]. Occasionally, widespread dissemination arguments are accompanied by theories of subconscious copying, which speak to the fact that copyright infringement does not have a scienter requirement.220Williams v. Gaye, 885 F.3d 1150, 1167–68 (9th Cir. 2018). User B did, in fact, see on MuseNet that the intro was “Someone Like You,” suggesting this was not subconscious copying. However, the leeway to argue that the use did not need to be with full knowledge of the circumstances may be help Adele’s case; at a minimum, if User B does not admit selecting the intro, they cannot invoke a willful blindness-type argument. Therefore, an attempt to rebut the argument of widespread dissemination is unlikely to be persuasive.

As discussed with Sample Song A, substantial probability of access usually needs to be accompanied by probative similarity to successfully prove factual copying with indirect evidence. However, there are instances in which the probative similarity is convincing enough that it alone can satisfy the copying requirement. This is often referred to as “striking similarity,” and it arises when the similarity is so extensive that it is “effectively impossible for one to have arisen independently of the other.”2214 Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 91, § 13D.07. In analyzing striking similarity in music, it has been held that degree of similarity cannot pertain only to the quantity of identical notes, but must also look to the uniqueness and intricateness of the similar aspects and the places in which the two are dissimilar.222See Selle v. Gibb, 741 F.2d 896, 903–05 (7th Cir. 1984) (holding that a plaintiff failed to demonstrate striking similarity because there was no testimony to suggest the similarities could not have occurred absent copying); Wilkie v. Santly Bros., 91 F.2d 978, 980 (2d Cir. 1937) (holding that both the differences in the “plan and construction of the compositions” and the use of common “cadences and final chords” were irrelevant given the striking similarity resulting from thirty-two virtually identical bars). Oftentimes, because of how high the bar is set for striking similarity, expert testimony is needed when the subject matter is as highly technical as music. Here, while the melodic hook created by the use of an arpeggio is very recognizable and may seem unique to “Someone Like You,” the use of arpeggios generally is common.223Arpeggio, supra note 14. While there seems to be a possibility that, with the help of an expert, Sample Song B could be found strikingly similar to “Someone Like You,” the high bar for such a determination, coupled with the infrequency of successful arguments for striking similarity, makes it reasonable to assume that the normal requirements of access and probative similarity will need to be met; this is not damaging for Adele’s claim, as those are almost certainly provable.

Assuming striking similarity is not found, the indirect evidence just needs to show probative similarity. Comparing the two works side-by-side, protected and unprotected elements alike, a factfinder could certainly conclude that “Someone Like You” was the basis, at least in part, for Sample Song B. This holistic comparison would likely highlight the nearly identical melodic hook, which consists of arpeggiated chords and underlies the distinctive harmony, along with the general similarities in terms of the theme and vocal range. While the use of an arpeggio is not itself uncommon and could occur absent copying, the distinctive chord progression, melody, and harmony created in Sample Song B is similar in all the ways that make the instrumental portion of “Someone Like You,” so memorable and impactful. While remaining careful about maintaining the distinction between probative and substantial similarity, there is likely enough similarity to be probative of copying; whether that similarity is substantial in a legal sense remains to be addressed.

  1. Legal Copying

Substantial similarity is thought of as existing on a spectrum, thereby requiring close examination to attempt to identify the line between trivial similarities and actionable improper appropriation. Here, Adele’s infringement action would allege both comprehensive nonliteral and fragmented literal similarity. The most obvious claim is that of literal similarity with regard to the piano phrase, which functions as a melodic hook, because it is reproduced nearly identically in Sample Song B. A potentially important note is that an arpeggio would appear on the sheet music for a composition because it is notated to guide the playing of chord progressions.224Types of Arpeggio Signs, Steinberg.Help, https://archive.steinberg.help/dorico_pro/v3/en/dorico/topics/notation_reference/notation_reference_arpeggio_signs/notation_reference_arpeggio_signs_types_r.html [https://perma.cc/6S98-98W7]. Further, the use of an arpeggio is key here because it melodizes the chords being used, which tends to then be an important aspect of the resulting harmony; thus, it is potentially very significant to the substantial similarity analysis because arpeggios may take harmony into the protectable range of copyright law.225See Arpeggio, supra note 14. As for nonliteral similarity, this is a situation in which the nonliteral similarity may be characterized as comprehensive; both songs are played in common time, have a somber, emotional sound, and nearly identical lyrical themes, although they are different on a word-for-word basis. As noted, courts use different tests for determining substantial similarity. While these tests are similar in many ways and may yield similar results, the most thorough prediction of how a song like Sample Song B will fare against infringement allegations must consider the nuances of each. Expert testimony is almost always used to help guide complex questions of infringement in music, so any conclusions are subject to elaboration or criticism by a technical expert.

Before applying any of the tests, it is an appropriate moment to address the doctrine of de minimis copying. Because a determination that a use is de minimis negates the need for a full substantial similarity inquiry, courts often address this “defense”226Though sometimes called a defense, it does not necessarily function as such. at the outset. De minimis copying essentially means there is a lack of substantial similarity, so the conclusion that a use is de minimis generally arises when “the average audience would not recognize the appropriation.”227Newton v. Diamond, 388 F.3d 1189, 1193 (9th Cir. 2004) (citation omitted) (holding that the use of three notes that constitute about six seconds in the original song was a de minimis use and therefore not actionable). It is important to keep this concept separate from that of characterizing an element as de minimis itself, such as saying that one note is de minimis and not protectable. As the inverse of substantial similarity, the de minimis inquiry similarly must consider the quantitative and qualitative importance of a use because both get at what an ordinary listener would find substantial. Essentially, the inquiry here would follow the same steps as the fragmented literal similarity test, as that test is viewed as a de minimis doctrine.228See Warner Bros. Inc. v. Am. Broad. Co., 720 F.2d 231, 242 (2d Cir. 1983) (explaining that in cases of fragmented literal similarity, a de minimis rule applies and allows “the literal copying of a small and usually insignificant portion of the plaintiff’s work”); Williams v. Broadus, No. 99 Civ. 10957, 2001 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 12894, at *11 (S.D.N.Y. Aug. 24, 2001) (calling fragmented literal similarity a “de minimis doctrine”). Because the details of those steps will be discussed in detail in applying the fragmented literal similarity test,229See infra Section II.B.2.iii. they need not be laid out here, largely because it seems unlikely that a court would deem the copying here to be de minimis. The focus of this inquiry is on how much of the original was used or copied; the piano phrase is repeated throughout most of “Someone Like You,” so it seems highly likely an audience would recognize the appropriation. Given that the phrase constitutes a quantitatively large part of the original and arguably has significant qualitative importance because the piano is intentionally the only instrument to create a particular feeling, the phrase opens the song instrumentally, and it may be seen as the song’s backbone, a determination that this use is de minimis copying seems unlikely. Thus, it is appropriate to analyze potential outcomes under each of the substantial similarity tests. 

i. Extrinsic-Intrinsic Test

The extrinsic-intrinsic test is a two-prong test. The extrinsic prong is the objective prong and requires identifying concrete elements of expression that are similar.230Sid & Marty Krofft Television Prods., Inc. v. McDonald’s Corp., 562 F.2d 1157, 1164 (9th Cir. 1977) (“[Specific] criteria include the type of artwork involved, the materials used, the subject matter, and the setting for the subject.”), overruled on other grounds by Skidmore v. Led Zeppelin, 952 F.3d 1051 (9th Cir. 2020) (overruling the use of the inverse ratio rule). Because this test is part of a substantial similarity inquiry, the dissection of elements involves identifying those that are and are not protected by copyright. Music often presents a more complicated case for analysis because, unlike books and films, it cannot easily be classified into a few protectable and unprotectable elements;231Swirsky v. Carey, 376 F.3d 841, 848–49 (9th Cir. 2004). Literary works, including films, TV shows, and books, can be broken down into elements more easily than music because relevant elements like plot, character, event sequence, and dialogue are more discrete than elements like melody or harmony. Id. at 849 n.15 (citation omitted).  thus, courts applying the extrinsic prong have looked to a wide variety of elements, including title hooks, lyrics, melodies, chord progression, pitch, instrumentation, accents, and basslines.232Id. at 849; see also Three Boys Music Corp. v. Bolton, 212 F.3d 477, 485–86 (9th Cir. 2000) (upholding jury’s finding of infringement based on compilation of unprotectable elements of a song), overruled on other grounds by Skidmore v. Led Zeppelin, 952 F.3d 1051 (9th Cir. 2020) (overruling the use of the inverse ratio rule). The combination of these expressive elements can be protected by copyright and often form the basis of claims involving instrumental phrases.233Swirsky, 376 F.3d at 848–49. Therefore, it can be helpful to think of the first question as relating to separating protectable elements or compilations of elements, and the second question as analyzing those elements to determine whether they are objectively substantially similar. In Skidmore v. Led Zeppelin, the district court concluded on a summary judgment motion that there was sufficient extrinsic similarity for the issue to go to the jury; the basis for such similarity focused on a “repeated A-minor descending chromatic bass lines lasting [thirteen] seconds” that appeared within the first two minutes of both songs and was arguably the “most recognizable and important segments of the respective works.”234Skidmore v. Led Zeppelin, No. CV 15-3462, 2016 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 51006, at *50 (C.D. Cal. Apr. 8, 2016), aff’d, 952 F.3d 1051 (9th Cir. 2020). Additionally, the “harmonic setting” of the sections used the same chords.235Id. The court concluded that even though a “descending chromatic four-chord progression” is common, the placement in the song, pitch, and recognizability make it appropriate for analysis under the extrinsic test.236Id. Ultimately, however, the jury concluded that, despite the combination of objective similarities, the songs were not extrinsically similar. The jury reached a different conclusion in Three Boys Music Corp. v. Bolton, in which the jury found substantial extrinsic similarity in the compilation of five unprotectable elements.237In Three Boys Music, an expert testified to the similarity in the combination of “(1) the title hook phrase (including the lyric, rhythm, and pitch); (2) the shifted cadence; (3) the instrumental figures; (4) the verse/chorus relationship; and (5) the fade ending.” 212 F.3d at 485.

Here, Adele could likely make an argument similar to that of the plaintiffs in both Skidmore and Three Boys Music, arguing that although arpeggiating chords to achieve certain melodic or harmonic goals is not uncommon, the very same chord progression starts both songs without lyrical accompaniment, is repeated several times in both songs at the same pitch, and is “arguably the most recognizable and important”238Skidmore, 2016 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 51006, at *50. part of each work; invoking the device that made the Three Boys Music plaintiffs successful, Adele would want to emphasize that it is the compilation of expressive elements that form the basis of actionable extrinsic similarity. While the knowledge that MuseNet took the actual intro from “Someone Like You,” and used generative AI to make “predictions” for the rest of the song according to prompts suggests objective similarity of these elements, expert testimony would still be helpful and needed to confirm which elements are really present in Sample Song B; for example, there may be subtle note differences that do not necessarily make the song sound different, but are objective differences, nonetheless.239Because generative AI music technology is still being explored, expert testimony as to the specifics of the musical elements would likely be needed because it is not clear whether selecting the “Someone Like You” intro means that it is being copied and pasted into the new song, or if it is instead composing something that closely resembles the phrase. The fact that the generated song has an almost identical-sounding piano phrase is addressed in the intrinsic prong. This conclusion is ultimately a question of fact requiring technical breakdown by an expert to evaluate the compilation of expressive elements, including those that are part of the melodic hook, for originality. Based on this analysis, a jury can make an informed determination as to whether these elements are sufficiently original to be protected, and if so, whether Sample Song B is substantially similar with regard to that protected expression. Assuming an expert can corroborate the objective similarity that appears to exist, there seems to be a strong case against User B as it pertains to the extrinsic prong. This is especially true in light of cases in which experts found extrinsic similarity in hooks and signature phrases,240See, e.g., Williams v. Gaye, 885 F.3d 1150, 1172 (9th Cir. 2018). as well as those that emphasized compilations as sufficient for extrinsic similarity.241See, e.g., Three Boys Music, 212 F.3d at 485. Within this framework, the copied melodical hook—consisting of the same or at least similar chord progressions, use of arpeggio, pitch, and harmony—coupled with the prominence and similar repetition in both songs, sets up a strong claim for extrinsic similarity.

Importantly in the context of AI-generated music, Adele may want to point to the fact that the song is “in her style” and that the voice sounds very similar to hers. As discussed with Sample Song A, however, courts have been very reluctant to recognize copyright in a style or someone’s voice. Especially in the case of Sample Song B—which is even closer to what has been identified as a soundalike in past cases, as Adele’s voice is not being used at all—it is at most an imitation of her voice type, and thus it seems unlikely that this part of the similarity between the songs could be actionable itself.242Unlike Sample Song A, in which West’s voice was used in some way to create the vocals for the AI-generated song, User B just used vocals that were in a similar mezzo-soprano voice. While the practical result is that it sounds like Adele, this seems like a classic case of a soundalike. See generally Midler v. Ford Motor Co., 849 F.2d 460 (9th Cir. 1988). However, this similarity may work to Adele’s benefit under the intrinsic test.

If satisfied, the extrinsic test must be followed by an intrinsic test, which is the subjective prong that puts aside analytical dissection in favor of taking the approach of a reasonable listener. The intrinsic test asks whether ordinary listeners would find the “total concept and feel of the works to be substantially similar.”243Three Boys Music, 212 F.3d at 485 (quoting Pasillas v. McDonald’s Corp., 927 F.2d 440, 442 (9th Cir. 1991)). A jury may find substantial similarity from an overall view, even when individual similarities alone seem trivial.244Gaye, 885 F.3d at 1164. This may be important for Adele’s case because the similarity technically boils down to a few chords and how they are played. However, the impact of the arrangement resulted in an internationally recognized piano phrase, as well as a melody and harmony that have been highly successful in conveying a message. In both songs, the phrase starts at the first second, plays without lyrics initially, and repeats after the chorus. While there are some differences in instrumental content and lyrics, a jury could subjectively find that the repeated phrase is substantial. The ordinary listener would likely also find subjective similarity in the combination of those instrumental choices and thematically similar lyrics, suggesting that the songs genuinely evoke similar meanings. In a subjective analysis of the total concept and feel, the similar-sounding vocals may potentially factor in, particularly because both songs are sung by mezzo-sopranos. However, this is unlikely to be the most salient reason for finding intrinsic similarity because mezzo-soprano is the most common female singing voice, and the intrinsic test assumes an untrained ear who would likely attribute the similarity to the unremarkable fact that both vocalists sound feminine, rather than recognizing the specific vocal range.245Stefan Joubert, 7 Vocal Types and How to Determine Yours, London Singing Inst. (Oct. 30, 2020), https://www.londonsinginginstitute.co.uk/7-vocal-types-and-how-to-determine-yours [https://perma.cc/M3TL-24LF]. Nonetheless, it seems reasonable to conclude that the songs are substantially similar overall. But because the ordinary listener is supposed to truly reflect an ordinary person with no music expertise, it could also go the other way. While the hook phrase is distinctive and impactful, a jury could conclude that in Sample Song B, because of the variation in the accompaniment aside from the phrase, it is not as salient, therefore finding that the works holistically lack the requisite similarity. This ultimately speaks to the challenging nature of anticipating intrinsic analysis results, as the conclusions depend on unknown variables and subjective judgments. Courts consistently reiterate that they will not question the jury’s intrinsic conclusions, therefore there is less to rely on by way of case law because it is not judges who engage in this inquiry.246See generally Gaye, 885 F.3d; Swirsky v. Carey, 376 F.3d 841 (9th Cir. 2004); Three Boys Music, 212 F.3d; Sid & Marty Krofft Television Prods., Inc. v. McDonald’s Corp., 562 F.2d 1157 (9th Cir. 1977), overruled on other grounds by Skidmore v. Led Zeppelin, 952 F.3d 1051 (9th Cir. 2020) (overruling the use of the inverse ratio rule).

The extrinsic-intrinsic test has been criticized for lack of clarity as to both prongs. As will also be discussed with aspects of the following tests, the “total concept and feel” approach seems to conflict with copyright law’s very specific intent to protect original expressions rather than ideas or commonplace expressions of ideas.2474 Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 91, § 13.03(A)(1)(c). Assuming this test remains in use, however, it may be the approach applied in the litigation of User B. Without knowing the quality of potential expert testimony, it is hard to predict with certainty the outcome. However, case law does suggest that the type of elements that were copied could, if framed as a compilation, satisfy the extrinsic test because there are clearly musical elements that are objectively the same. As for the intrinsic test, the subjective conclusions of the factfinder will ultimately determine the outcome; however, the prominence of the copied phrase, as well as the concept and feel of the emotional ballads, suggest that a jury could potentially find the songs to be substantially similar.

ii. Ordinary Observer Test

The ordinary observer test asks “whether defendant took from plaintiff’s works so much of what is pleasing to the ears of lay listeners, who comprise the audience for whom such popular music is composed, that defendant wrongfully appropriated something which belongs to the plaintiff.”248Arnstein v. Porter, 154 F.2d 464, 473 (2d Cir. 1946). Here, because there are similarities between protectable and unprotectable elements, the test will probably be more discerning. In conducting the more discerning inquiry, courts are to try to extract the unprotectable elements and ask whether the remaining protectable elements are substantially similar.249Velez v. Sony Discos, No. 05 Civ. 0615, 2007 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 5495, at *24 (S.D.N.Y. Jan. 16, 2007). Protectable elements may either be completely original or original contributions by way of selection, coordination, or arrangement.250Id. (“In other words, unoriginal elements, combined in an original way, can constitute protectible elements of a copyrighted work.”). For Adele, this would likely mean focusing on the original selection, coordination, and arrangement of the piano phrase itself and its function in the song through repetition. Once those elements are identified, the factfinder will look to the total concept and feel, focusing on whether the defendant misappropriated the original aspects of the copyright owner’s work. While the original formulation of the ordinary observer test in Arnstein v. Porter references the intended audience, that factor has not typically played a large role and is usually understood to mean the lay listener.251Arnstein, 154 F.2d at 473; see Dawson v. Hinshaw Music, Inc., 905 F.2d 731, 737 (4th Cir. 1990) (suggesting that a departure from the lay audience serving as the representative of the intended audience is appropriate only when “the intended audience possesses specialized expertise”) (internal quotation marks omitted). Because the emphasis is almost entirely on total concept and feel, whether MuseNet made minor, audibly imperceptible changes to the phrase may be less important than in the extrinsic inquiry of the extrinsic-intrinsic test.252It may also not be any less important depending on testimony. However, since the focus is so much more directly on whether the second work took something important from the first, these minor changes may factor in much less. Nevertheless, this potential small change would not be fatal to the claim, because we are discussing substantial similarity of the composition, meaning that it need not be completely identical.

The analysis of Sample Song B under an ordinary observer test will likely resemble the analysis in New Old Music Group, Inc. v. Gottwald.253New Old Music Grp., Inc. v. Gottwald, 122 F. Supp. 3d 78, 95–97 (S.D.N.Y. 2015). In New Old Music, the infringement claim was based on a drum part consisting of a single measure, which was repeated throughout the allegedly infringing work, ultimately accounting for eighty-three percent of the original work.254Id. at 97. The defendant argued that the individual elements were not sufficiently original to be protected, but the court held that the totality of the drum part could suffice as copyrightable based on its original selection, coordination, and arrangement.255The court in New Old Music was ruling on a summary judgment motion, so it did not determine whether the selection, coordination, or arrangement of the drum part was sufficiently original. Instead, it simply pointed to the defendant’s failure to show that it was not original and emphasized that protection for the plaintiff is not limited to the originality of the individual elements. Id. at 95–96. A reasonable juror in New Old Music could have concluded that the use of the drum part, which could be seen as the original song’s “backbone,” took so much of “what is pleasing to the ears of lay listeners, . . . that [the] defendant wrongfully appropriated something” from the plaintiff.256Id. at 97 (quoting Repp v. Webber, 132 F.3d 882, 889 (2d Cir. 1997)). Here, the repeated piano phrase could be described as the backbone of “Someone Like You,” and be protected as a unique and original arrangement despite the unoriginality of any individual note. Analyzing the total concept and feel of both songs, a reasonable jury could likely conclude User B substantially misappropriated Adele’s original compilations and thereby infringed on her copyright.

Because this test relies on subjective judgments, the outcome could go the other way. A jury could conclude that the piano phrase and its arrangement were not original,257To determine the selection or arrangement of the piano in “Someone Like You,” is unoriginal, evidence must be presented that suggests as much. While nothing readily apparent suggests this upon researching the song, that does not preclude the possibility that an expert in music and music theory could demonstrate its unoriginality. or that it is a de minimis aspect of the work258The term “de minimis” in this context refers to the violation being trivial; this differs slightly from “de minimis copying,” a term used to describe copying that falls below the substantial similarity threshold. See Ringgold v. Black Ent. Television, Inc., 126 F.3d 70, 74 (2d Cir. 1997).  and therefore the similarity does not pertain to what lay listeners deem pleasing in “Someone Like You.” This was the case in Velez v. Sony Discos, in which the combination of eight-measure phrases was a structure widely used and therefore not original to the plaintiff’s song, and also constituted de minimis aspects of the original song.259Velez v. Sony Discos, No. 05 Civ. 0615, 2007 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 5495, at *38–40 (S.D.N.Y. Jan. 16, 2007). Sample Song B differs from the allegedly infringing song in Velez in that, aside from that structure of phrases, the song was not otherwise similar to the original in melody, harmony, or lyrics;260Id. at *39. Sample Song B, on the other hand, can be alleged to infringe on the arrangement of piano phrases, as well as the resulting melody and harmony that is affected by other expressive choices like arpeggiating the chords. Because of these similarities, it seems likely that a jury could find for Adele under the ordinary observer test, assuming expert testimony does not exclude the possibility of originality.

A key reason the ordinary observer test, discerning or traditional, comes under criticism is that it asks a factfinder to simultaneously separate protectable elements for careful examination and determine substantial similarity based solely on the total concept and feel.2614 Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 91, § 13.03(E)(1)(b). Additionally, ordinary listeners’ impressions regarding whether copying has occurred do not necessarily prove that a violation of the Copyright Act has taken place. These shortcomings could affect Adele’s case against User B in two opposing ways. On one hand, the meticulous separation of protectable elements before conducting a net effect-type of analysis might lead the jury to conclude that what they are merely dealing with individual phrases. Focusing too closely on the individual phrases, as opposed to the whole arrangement, might cause this similarity to be overlooked in a total concept and feel inquiry. If, however, the jury recognizes the arrangement as the “backbone” of the song, this could lessen the issue. Further, in focusing on the total concept and feel, a jury might unintentionally be overinclusive when the vibe of the songs is as similar as “Someone Like You” and Sample Song B. If anything, this emphasizes the importance of expert testimony regarding the originality, or lack thereof, of the elements—whether on their own or as a compilation—to guide the jury before their total concept and feel analysis.

iii.  Fragmented Literal Similarity Test

The last test is the fragmented literal similarity test, which has less applicable case law. This test focuses on “localized” similarity based on the idea that identifiable fragments of identical or nearly identical expression should be the basis for an infringement action.262TufAmerica, Inc. v. Diamond, 968 F. Supp. 2d 588, 597 (S.D.N.Y. 2013). As such, the substantial similarity question under this test turns on whether the copying involves trivial or substantial elements of the original work, which is determined by quantitative and qualitative assessments.263Id. at 598. Most cases specifically addressing fragmented literal similarity involve lyrics, so the qualitative significance of instrumental phrases is less explored. However, when considering the qualitative importance of instrumental phrases outside the context of fragmented literal similarity, it has been recognized that small sections can have great qualitative import, such as the four-note opening melody in Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony.264Newton v. Diamond, 388 F.3d 1189, 1197 (9th Cir. 2004) (Graber, J., dissenting). See generally Williams v. Broadus, No. 99 Civ. 10957, 2001 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 12894 (S.D.N.Y. Aug. 24, 2001); Jarvis v. A & M Recs., 827 F. Supp. 282 (D. N.J. 1993). Here, the specific piano phrase appears at the first second of “Someone Like You,” initially without lyrics for about fourteen seconds; the same phrase continues through nearly three and a half minutes of the song, although there are some additional notes played and volume changes.265A trained musical expert would need to testify as to the specific breakdown of how long the exact same chords are played, but the progression is present through approximately three and a half minutes of the song. “Someone Like You” is four minutes and forty-five seconds in total. Someone Like You, Spotify, https://open.spotify.com/track/5lkpeJwmQKgY3bX2zChjxX [https://perma.cc/RJ2Z-XZLW]. Quantitatively, this is clearly significant. In TufAmerica, Inc. v. Diamond, the court determined that a “distinctive orchestra sequence” from the original song that was about three seconds and consisted of “a series of five punchy ascending chords” was quantitatively significant given that it was repeated seventeen times to ultimately constitute about fifteen percent of the song.266TufAmerica, 968 F. Supp. 2d at 606–07. While a musical expert would need to confirm the actual length of time the phrase appears in original form in “Someone Like You,” it certainly seems to exceed that threshold. The qualitative importance also seems convincing given that the piano is the only instrument, the phrase opens the song instrumentally, making it very recognizable, and the phrase continues with only slight alterations, thereby functioning as a common thread through the whole work. Under this test, it seems highly likely Adele would prevail.

However, this test seems least likely to apply. First, it is not as commonly used as the other tests. Second, there is much more at issue than just fragmented literal similarity, especially considering that the desire to legally target Sample Song B likely has as much to do with the fact that User B used AI to create a song that intentionally sounds like Adele as it has to do with the use of the phrase; “local” and “global” similarity are expected concerns for artists whose works are pirated by AI. Third, the fact that the phrase is slightly sped up and may contain slight differences due to how it was generated suggests the other tests may be better suited for this case.  

User B’s final opportunity to argue that their conduct falls within the bounds of the Copyright Act without constituting infringement is by asserting the fair use defense. Because the same analysis likely applies to User B’s use of the recording as well, the fair use discussion below addresses both components of the song together.

  1. The Sound Recording

The analysis thus far has focused on the composition. Infringement of the sound recording of “Someone Like You” requires a literal duplication of the recording.26717 U.S.C. § 114(b). As discussed earlier, while not explicitly included, there is reason to believe the same applies to the distribution right as well; see supra text accompanying note 117. Based on the language of the Copyright Act, whether the rights in the recording have been infringed depends entirely on how MuseNet creates music using introductions from existing songs:

(a) The exclusive rights of the owner of copyright in a sound recording are limited to the rights specified by [the] clauses [pertaining to the reproduction, adaptation, distribution, and the public performance by digital audio transmission rights] . . . . (b) The exclusive right of the owner of copyright in a sound recording under [the reproduction right] is limited to the right to duplicate the sound recording in the form of phonorecords or copies that directly or indirectly recapture the actual sounds fixed in the recording. The exclusive right of the owner of copyright in a sound recording under [the adaptation right] is limited to the right to prepare a derivative work in which the actual sounds fixed in the sound recording are rearranged, remixed, or otherwise altered in sequence or quality.26817 U.S.C. § 114(a)–(b) (emphasis added).

MuseNet trains on MIDI files, which capture data that can be seen as a “symbolic representation of music.”269David Rizo, Pedro J. Ponce de León, Carlos Pérez-Sancho, Antonio Pertusa & José M. Iñesta, A Pattern Recognition Approach for Melody Track Selection in MIDI Files, 7th Int’l Conf. on Music Info. Retrieval (2006). Essentially, a MIDI file records data about the notes in a song, including pitch, volume, and time nodes, which can then instruct the reproduction of musical compositions.270Liu, supra note 29, at 6564; Christos P. Badavas, MIDI Files: Copyright Protection for Computer-Generated Works, 35 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 1135, 1140–41 (1994). Importantly, MIDI files are not audio recordings and cannot transmit audio.271Badavas, supra note 270, at 1139. (“The gestures made on a keyboard are translated into the serial computer language that is MIDI, sent out of the MIDI Out port, are received at the MIDI In port of a second (and third, and fourth, ad infinitum) instrument, and that instrument faithfully reproduces those gestures.”). This means that, unlike Uberduck, MuseNet technically never even “hears” the sound recording; it only trains on the computer language that indicates how the composition is played. Therefore, a MIDI file of “Someone Like You” could not possibly result in exact duplication of the protected recording being used in Sample Song B because the recording itself is not transmitted. This information alone suggests that User B cannot be liable for infringement of the sound recording of “Someone Like You,” and Adele would have to rely on allegations of infringement of the composition as discussed earlier.

While the literal language of the statute suggests that copying using a MIDI file is not an actionable infringement of the recording, a more in-depth inquiry as to whether this is so black-and-white is warranted considering that many AI music generators train on MIDI files. The starting point for this inquiry is legislative intent. The Digital Performance Right in Sound Recordings Act of 1995 (“DPRA”) created an exclusive performance right for sound recordings, specifically granting the right to perform by “means of a digital audio transmission.”27217 U.S.C. § 106(6). In doing so, section 114 was also amended to add the relevant limitations on the performance right. The House Report accompanying the DPRA explicitly states that the right applies only to digital audio transmissions, which is consistent with the language of section 114 concerning reproduction and adaptation rights.273H.R. Rep. No. 104-274, at 14 (1995). Additionally, it specifies that a “digital phonorecord delivery” refers to the delivery of a recording by digital transmission.274Id. at 28. From this, it is clear that while the rights associated with sound recordings were expanded to adapt to technological developments, they were not explicitly extended beyond the transmission of the actual recording. However, the House Report does note that because the bill does not “precisely anticipate particular technological changes,” they intend that the rights, exemptions, and limitations created should be interpreted to “achieve their intended purposes.”275Id. at 13. This is at least suggestive of the understanding that the language may not be precise enough to cover all technologies and potential infringements. In 2018, Congress passed the Musical Works Modernization Act with the intent of updating copyright law to increase fairness for creators regarding statutory licensing.276Musical Works Modernization Act §§ 101–106; 17 U.S.C. §§ 114, 115. While this points to an ongoing concern about protecting artists in the advent of technological innovation, it does not change how digital transmission is defined. Legislative intent seems to indicate that Congress’s focus is to protect the actual sound recording. However, the concern about the future evolution of technology nonetheless remains relevant. 

The Office has also provided some perspective on MIDI files and the sound recording requirement. As of 2021, the Office “does not consider standard [MIDI] files to be phonorecords and will not register a copyright claim in a sound recording contained in a standard [MIDI] file.”277U.S. Copyright Off., Compendium of U.S. Copyright Office Practices § 803.4(C) (3d ed. 2021). The Office elaborates that, because MIDI files do not capture sounds and only capture the underlying score, they are insufficiently fixed to be copyrighted as sound recordings, though they may suffice for musical works.278Id. While this does not directly address MIDI files in the context of infringement, this is clear evidence that the Office is aware of how MIDI files operate in the music context and continues to view them as fundamentally different from sound recordings. If the Office does not consider MIDI files to be fixations of the recording itself, it is a difficult argument to suggest it should constitute a sound recording for the purposes of infringement.

Case law does not seem to have addressed this issue directly. However, there is a wealth of judicial interpretation of section 114 and what is meant by the requirement that sound recordings be duplicated to qualify as infringement.279See Bridgeport Music, Inc. v. Dimension Films, 410 F.3d 792, 800 (6th Cir. 2005) (“[17 U.S.C. § 114(b)] means that the world at large is free to imitate or simulate the creative work fixed in the recording so long as an actual copy of the sound recording itself is not made.”) (emphasis added); VMG Salsoul, LLC v. Ciccone, 824 F.3d 871, 883 (9th Cir. 2016) (“A new recording that mimics the copyrighted recording is not an infringement, even if the mimicking is very well done, so long as there was no actual copying.”); Batiste v. Lewis, 976 F.3d 493, 506 (5th Cir. 2020) (“[A]n artist infringes a copyrighted sound recording by sampling all or any substantial portion of the actual sounds from that recording.”) (citation omitted) (internal quotation marks omitted). This conclusion aligns with the language of the statute and its intended purpose. Therefore, even if Sample Song B sounds like it was sampled, current interpretations of the Copyright Act would instruct a court to conclude that Sample Song B did not infringe on Adele’s exclusive rights in the sound recording of “Someone Like You.” Undeniably this would be incredibly frustrating for an artist in Adele’s shoes; changing one fact—how the song was duplicated—could open the door to receiving royalties for sampling. This bears similarity to the frustration artists feel in cases involving songs like Sample Song A in which they justifiably feel that their hard work has been “appropriated,” yet that appropriation is simply not cognizable under current copyright law.

However, given that this case presents new issues that have not yet been addressed directly, it is possible that using the original in this specific way could be considered an exact duplication. Based on the DPRA and Congress’s intent to protect the ability to earn royalty revenues in the digital age, it may be a fair extension to consider the extraction and use of exact portions of a song using MIDI technology to be within what was meant by an actual duplication. There is no human involvement in using MIDI files to recreate the exact instrumentals; they are fed to the AI system to learn, train on, and reproduce with predictions. By possessing the MIDI file, the system autonomously makes an exact replica of the song. In fact, the point of MIDI files is to enable the creation of exact replicas, as it is a type of file that can direct notes and instruments to be played. While that seems to sound like a process akin to a person who uses their own instrument to recreate a song, which is acceptable under the Copyright Act, the lack of human involvement may persuade a court to conclude that this process falls outside the scope of what Congress intended to allow without obtaining a license.

If this is considered to be sampling, there are several potential rights for Adele to argue infringement upon; by its very nature, sampling may infringe on the reproduction and distribution rights, and courts have found that sampling infringes on the adaptation right by harming the market for future derivatives.280Frisby v. Sony Music Ent., No. 19-1712, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 51218, at *40–41 (C.D. Cal. Mar. 11, 2021). In determining whether this sample infringed on those rights, courts would likely apply the same requirements for a successful infringement action. The only instance in which the fact of sampling alone would be sufficient is if a court strictly adheres to the holding and reasoning from Bridgeport. Because this would be considered an exact duplication, the factual copying prong would easily be satisfied. As to the legal prong, it seems that Sample Song B would likely be found to be substantially similar to “Someone Like You” for the same reasons as discussed regarding the musical composition. Further, the fair use inquiry would be important in determining whether User B is liable for infringing Adele’s copyright.

Absent such a change in interpretation or amendment of the Copyright Act, it seems unlikely that Adele would succeed on a claim of infringement on the sound recording. Given that AI systems often train on MIDI data, this is something that may be addressed in the Office’s future reports. While arguments about style pirating by generative AI systems seem unlikely to influence changes in copyright protections, arguments about near-duplication by MIDI files align more with adjusting copyright law to address technological changes. Ongoing concerns about royalties and protecting rights in ownership of a sound recording may demand attention to this MIDI “loophole.” Because this situation presents a good opportunity to reconsider what exactly is meant by exact duplications, it is worth considering how Adele’s infringement action would proceed if User B’s use of MIDI files does qualify as sampling. Since the required elements of an infringement cause of action are likely satisfied, the outcome for the recording probably depends on fair use, as that is User B’s last opportunity to attempt to show that their conduct is not prohibited by the Copyright Act. 

  1. Fair Use Defense

Regarding both the musical composition and the sound recording, User B will likely at least plead fair use in their answer to a suit alleging infringement by Adele. Nevertheless, like other music copyright cases, it is not guaranteed that this defense will be litigated. In asserting a fair use defense, User B will have the burden of justifying their use of the original phrase, including its intact melody, harmony, and rhythm. If successful, they will be relieved from liability because fair use is an affirmative defense.28117 U.S.C. § 107. Because there are only a handful of fair use music cases that involve non-parody uses, with a notable absence of case law addressing the use of instrumental sections, the following analysis largely relies on analogies to other applications of the defense.

The first factor is the “purpose and character” of the use.282Id. § 107(1). The key question is one of transformation. Post-Goldsmith, this inquiry is more demanding and requires looking beyond whether the use adds something new. When the use is essentially the same as the original, as is the case here, a compelling justification is required.283Andy Warhol Found. for the Visual Arts v. Goldsmith, 598 U.S. 508, 547 (2023). There is certainly an argument that the use here is transformative, simply based on the nature of MuseNet and the resulting composition. The intro to “Someone Like You” served as the basis for Song B, but then the AI system used predictive technology to construct much of the remaining composition, revisiting the original phrase only occasionally. In a literal sense, User B, via MuseNet, transformed the phrase by pairing it with new instrumental phrases. While this fits the definition of literal transformation, a more compelling argument would exist if the song retained less of the original in its essentially unchanged form. Since most uses incorporate some addition, the inquiry must also consider the extent to which the purpose differs.284Id. at 525. Sample Song B does not fit into any of the criteria from the preamble of § 107,285The preamble explicitly lists the following purposes: “criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching (including multiple copies for classroom use), scholarship, or research.” 17 U.S.C. § 107. but that does not preclude a sufficiently different purpose. In Estate of Smith, the court found that the use of lyrics to discuss music generally served a “sharply different” purpose than the lyric’s original purpose or goal of commenting on the “primacy of jazz music.”286Estate of Smith v. Cash Money Recs., 253 F. Supp. 3d 737, 750 (S.D.N.Y. 2017). The original lyrics were: “Jazz is the only real music that’s gonna last. All that other bullshit is here today and gone tomorrow. But jazz was, is and always will be.” In the second work, the lyrics were edited to say: “Only real music is gonna last.” Id. at 749. Whether this conclusion would be accepted under Goldsmith, which was decided later, is questionable because the Court held that transformation cannot be based on the “stated or perceived intent of the artist.”287Goldsmith, 598 U.S. at 545.

Regardless, while there are changes in the instrumental phrasing and added lyrics, the lyrics reflect very similar themes, and the music serves the same purpose of setting a somber tone. While more specifics about the lyrics and the message of Sample Song B are needed to confirm this conclusion, the available information suggests that the purpose of using the piano phrase is not even as different as that of the use in Estate of Smith, which also arguably lacked significant differences. Because of the exact portions of piano used, along with several other nonliteral similarities, it seems unlikely that User B could sufficiently demonstrate a compelling justification or a distinct purpose. The Goldsmith Court noted that Campbell cannot be read to say that any use that adds something new counts in favor of fair use because, if it did, a “commercial remix of Prince’s ‘Purple Rain’” would weigh in favor of fair use purely because it added some new expression to the song.288Id. at 541. Thus, Sample Song B is arguably just a remix of the instrumentals in “Someone Like You,” which fails to serve any significant unique purpose because it uses the phrasing to evoke the same theme and musical vibe. Therefore, it seems unlikely that a court would find the first factor to favor fair use here.

The second factor is “the nature of the copyrighted work.”28917 U.S.C. § 107(2). This factor examines whether the work is creative or expressive.290Estate of Smith, 253 F. Supp. 3d at 751. This factor weighs strongly against fair use because the copyrighted work is an original, creative musical work. Because this is somewhat uncharted territory, User B could argue that the creative nature of the original song is less relevant because what was used can be broken down into a chord progression, and there are only so many combinations of such progressions; User B may then argue that courts should look at these chords more like facts or nonfiction works. This argument is not particularly persuasive given that Sample Song B uses the same arrangement of the chord progressions, maintaining the original melody and harmony, which clearly speaks to the creative choices made in “Someone Like You.” Nonetheless, this factor is rarely significant in a final fair use determination.291Authors Guild v. Google, Inc., 804 F.3d 202, 220 (2d Cir. 2015).  

The third factor pertains to the “amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the copyrighted work as a whole.”29217 U.S.C. § 107(3). User B will certainly argue that they used only what was required for the generative AI system to create predictions and compose a new song in accordance with those predictions. While User B is not required to use only the minimum amount needed for the system to function,293Estate of Smith, 253 F. Supp. 3d at 751. the significant amount used, coupled with the lack of obvious transformation in the resulting song, will likely work against them. This factor is less likely to favor fair use when there is extensive copying or when the use encompasses “the most important parts of the original.”294Authors Guild, 804 F.3d at 221. While in Oracle, the amount of code used was reasonable in proportion to the transformative use,295Google LLC v. Oracle Am., Inc., 593 U.S. 1, 33–35 (2021). the use of exact news segments in Fox News Network, LLC v. TVEyes, Inc. was extensive and included all of the important parts of the original news segments, thereby failing to qualify as fair use.296Fox News Network, LLC v. TVEyes, Inc., 883 F.3d 169, 179 (2d Cir. 2018). User B’s use of the piano phrase likely falls between these two cases, as it does not use the entire composition, but still uses so much of what is important from it. As with the other two factors, this factor would likely count against fair use here.

The final factor, often deemed the most important, asks about the “effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work.”29717 U.S.C. § 107(4). This factor requires looking beyond the immediate situation to consider whether widespread conduct of this kind “[might] adversely affect the potential market for the copyrighted work.”298Sony Corp. of Am. v. Universal City Studios, Inc., 464 U.S. 417, 451 (1984), superseded by statute, Digital Millennium Copyright Act, Pub. L. No. 105-304, 112 Stat. 2860, as recognized in Monge v. Maya Mags, Inc., 688 F.3d 1164 (9th Cir. 2012). As noted earlier, this factor’s application in the music context is unclear, as it has received little judicial attention. Since the use is unlikely to be deemed transformative, Song B is more likely to pose a risk of market substitution. However, this conclusion is based on an approach that is not typically applied to music cases like this one. User B will certainly argue that listening preferences are subjective and the use of the piano phrase to create a similarly emotional ballad may not clearly harm the market for the original the way the complete replication of news segments and distribution of clips would render paying for the original largely unnecessary.299Fox News, 883 F.3d at 179–180. However, a California court, addressing an allegedly infringing song in Frisby, held that two songs within similar genres were competitors; as such, the court concluded that when a latter song copies important elements of the original, the value and sales of the original are expected to be diminished because “the copy supersedes the objects of the original creation thereby supplanting [it].”300Frisby v. Sony Music Ent., No. 19-1712, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 51218, at *40 (C.D. Cal. Mar. 11, 2021). Sample Song B is clearly within the same genre as “Someone Like You,” so a court may deem them to be market competitors. Assuming these two songs qualify as market competitors, the subsequent question becomes whether Sample Song B copies an important element of “Someone Like You,” thereby supplanting the original. For the reasons discussed throughout this Note, the copied piano phrase is clearly a critical part of “Someone Like You,” as it is recognizable and serves as the instrumental accompaniment for most of the song. If a court agrees with this determination of importance, it will likely count against fair use.

The court in Frisby further explained the importance of considering the market for derivative works that may be affected by a later use; in that case, the court found that if the sample were considered fair use, it would “destroy the market for derivative works based on [the original song].”301Id. at *41. While that conclusion was linked to the existence of a “flourishing market” for derivatives of the original song,302Id. the premise that such a decision would result in future users not bothering to pay licensing fees would still apply here, even if there is no such flourishing market for “Someone Like You.” Fair use cases pertaining to all types of work often consider the potential chilling effects on the market. Finding Sample Song B’s use to be fair use could certainly undermine the efficacy and profitability of an established system of licensing.303See, e.g., id. at *41–42 (“[F]inding fair use in this case would have an extremely adverse effect on the potential market for and value of [the original].”); Fox News, 883 F.3d at 180 (finding that the use “usurp[ed] a market that properly belongs to the copyright-holder”) (citation omitted); Sega Enters., Ltd., v. Accolade, Inc., 977 F.2d 1510, 1523 (9th Cir. 1992) (explaining that if widespread conduct involving the use at issue would diminish sales, interfere with marketability, or usurp the market, “all other considerations might be irrelevant”); A&M Recs., Inc., v. Napster, Inc., 239 F.3d 1004, 1017 (9th Cir. 2001) (finding that the use harms the market for the original by affecting the present and future market for digital downloads). By referencing sound recordings, the DPRA reflects congressional concern about the livelihoods of artists and individuals who rely on licensing revenue. Allowing this substantial amount of copying to be fair use would likely lead many future users to forgo obtaining a license. Further, the court in Sony Music Entertainment v. Vital Pharmaceuticals, Inc. held that when a user “completely ignore[d] the market for music licensing,” the burden shifts to the user to demonstrate that their use is not likely to harm the market for the original.304Sony Music Ent. v. Vital Pharms., Inc., No. 21-22825, 2022 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 183358, at *37–38 (S.D. Fla. 2022) (holding that a company’s use of a record company’s songs for commercial purposes was not a fair use). Therefore, because User B did not obtain a license to use any part of “Someone Like You,” they would be responsible for producing evidence that Sample Song B did not negatively affect the market for the original. Adele’s unrealized royalties in this case would be limited to licensing revenues for “traditional, reasonable, or likely to be developed markets.”305Fox News, 883 F.3d at 180 (quoting Am. Geophysical Union v. Texaco Inc., 60 F.3d 913, 930 (2d Cir. 1994)). However, based on statutory requirements and industry practices, music licensing qualifies as a developed market. Therefore, this limitation is unlikely to have a significant impact in the music context.

Even if the use of MIDI files renders the use a mere imitation rather than a duplication infringing upon Adele’s rights in the recording, the result may be the same for this fourth factor, as a finding of fair use would necessarily imply that the MIDI loophole provides an acceptable way to avert infringement. This is problematic for the sampling and licensing market because those who would normally obtain a license to sample “Someone Like You” and other songs may instead copy the songs via MIDI technology. While such an approach would be unwise, considering that it does not remove potential liability for infringement of the musical composition, it would nonetheless provide a way to avoid paying licensing fees, which some AI users would likely exploit. Therefore, the chilling effect is likely to occur regardless of whether the use is characterized as sampling or a literal duplication. Further, the piano phrase is an important part of “Someone Like You,” both in the actual recording and in the composition, which is copied exactly. Therefore, Sample Song B may supplant the composition and thereby harm the sales and value of “Someone Like You.”

While predictions about fair use are necessarily speculative given the unique factors here, the application of analogous precedent suggests that, at a minimum, User B does not have a very compelling fair use defense. Future application of fair use in music by courts will be instructive, as will opinions addressing generative AI more specifically. A particularly important question to be answered will be how generative AI works that use predictive models will hold up against a transformation inquiry, as that factor typically seeps into the other three as well. Until courts provide such insight on how fair use and infringement apply to generative AI songs, Adele seems to have a decent case for infringement of the composition, so long as the subjective assessment leans in her favor. Infringement of the rights in the sound recording copyright, however, seems to present a less promising case under current interpretations of the Copyright Act.

IV. POLICY IMPLICATIONS

The analyses of Sample Songs A and B clearly suggest that current copyright law does not provide obvious answers to several questions that arise in the context of generative AI music and, more generally, AI technology. While certain provisions of the Copyright Act are intentionally broad to allow for changes, and amendments have addressed specific deficiencies identified by Congress, a fundamental deficiency arises from the fact that they did not design the Act with this advanced of technology in mind. For example, the limitation of rights in a sound recording to exact duplications was not promulgated with the expectation that machine learning algorithms would eventually train on data and duplicate it exactly through what technically qualifies as an independent fixation under the statute. Whether these deficiencies are addressed through amendments, judicial decisions, or administrative policies, a determination stands to be made as to whether specific new rules or exceptions are needed, or if the broad language of the Act should remain, with adjusted, AI-specific or AI-sensitive interpretations.306While judicial interpretation has certainly shaped our understanding of copyright law, substantial changes necessary to address these issues are unlikely to come from the courts alone. See Sony Corp. of Am. v. Universal City Studios, Inc., 464 U.S. 417, 429–31 (1984) (“Sound policy, as well as history, supports our consistent deference to Congress when major technological innovations alter the market for copyrighted materials.”), superseded by statute, Digital Millennium Copyright Act, Pub. L. No. 105-304, 112 Stat. 2860, as recognized in Monge v. Maya Mags., Inc., 688 F.3d 1164 (9th Cir. 2012).

Specific rules aside, the contentious situations created by generative AI music highlights the continuing struggle to balance protection for creators with the benefits of rapidly advancing technology. As the Court noted in Twentieth Century Music Corporation v. Aiken, the Copyright Act and its provisions are intended to reflect “a balance of competing claims upon the public interest.”307Twentieth Century Music Corp. v. Aiken, 422 U.S. 151, 156 (1975). On one side of the spectrum, it is important to recognize the societal value of music and properly appreciate the talent it takes to release authentic, moving pieces of work.308The Court in Twentieth Century Music described this end of the spectrum as reflecting the goal of “secur[ing] a fair return for an ‘author’s’ creative labor.” Id. If we want musically talented individuals to continue to pursue these creative aims and provide us with entertainment, their creative expression must continue to enjoy protection. This is a particularly salient concern given the sensitivity of the creation involved, as one artist is a vulnerable human, baring their soul, and the other “artist” is an inherently non-creative and non-vulnerable trained machine.

On the other end of the spectrum is the necessary recognition of the importance of encouraging technological advancement and pursuing a more efficient society. If the use of generative AI is aggressively cabined by the risk of copyright infringement litigation, the world may miss out on valuable works. While the protection of artists is undeniably important, it cannot be forgotten that protections are limited because the ultimate goal is to promote creativity for the public good.309See id.; Authors Guild, Inc. v. HathiTrust, 755 F.3d 87, 94–95 (2d Cir. 2014) (explaining that copyright law does not confer natural rights of “absolute ownership” on authors, but is “designed rather to stimulate activity and progress in the arts for the intellectual enrichment of the public”) (citing Pierre N. Leval, Toward a Fair Use Standard, 103 Harv. L. Rev. 1105, 1107 (1990)). Further, this could have a chilling effect beyond the music industry, impacting industries in which the use and advancement of this technology could change the world or save lives. Even within the music industry, if we limit the usage of AI by non-owners, how might that precedent impact the use of AI by owners themselves? Currently, similar technology is used in recording studios to make original songs and, particularly, to improve songs before they are released.310The idea of protecting innovation speaks not only to new creations, but also to building upon existing processes to improve them, a continual process that is clearly important in the music industry where quality improvements are constant and arguably beneficial for everyone involved. See Perfect 10, Inc. v. Amazon.com, Inc., 508 F.3d 1146, 1163 (9th Cir. 2007) (highlighting the importance of encouraging “the development of new ideas that build on earlier ones”). Artists would agree that this use is not the aim of cracking down on copyright infringement, but it would potentially be difficult to keep these uses separate and may result in frivolous and undesired suits between disgruntled artists and producers. Further, we need to determine the weight that the creative input of the user has on what uses are more permissible because not all AI systems dominate the creation without meaningful human input. Determining how and where to draw this line is far from simple and will necessarily depend on an increased understanding of the technology, assessment of policy priorities, and, to some degree, value judgments regarding what aims our society deems most important.

CONCLUSION

Generative AI music presents a whole host of new questions, considerations, and potential implications for how copyright holders vindicate their ownership. While the application of current copyright law and precedents to these situations involving AI-generated music does not provide fully satisfying answers as to what will happen when songs like these land on court dockets, it does direct attention to the chief policy concerns and areas in which artists are vulnerable. With regard to “Fake Drake,” the analysis of Sample Song A suggests that an infringement suit based on AI-generated soundalikes is unlikely to be successful. While a better understanding of the technology involved in AI-generated music may lead to stronger sampling claims, addressing “Fake Drake” is likely a matter better suited for trademark law and the right of publicity. Sample Song B presents slightly brighter prospects for artists to litigate AI-generated songs they believe infringe on their existing, copyrighted work. But these results are somewhat tentative, pending a better understanding of the technology and, ideally, insight from the Office.

What can be said for certain is that our understanding and expectation of how these cases will unfold are crucially informed by our understanding of the generative technology that ultimately creates the works. From the amount of user input to training data, there are many more considerations for actionable infringement than in a case of one person consciously copying the lyrics of a song by copying and pasting them onto new sheet music. As more is understood about how this technology actually uses existing songs to create new ones, the more we can apply the principles of copyright law and identify the gray areas that need clarification. To call these situations and concerns complicated would be a vast understatement. But if copyright law is to achieve its aims of “promot[ing] the Progress of Science and useful Arts,”311U.S. Const. art. I, § 8, cl. 8. while also continuing to provide adequate protection for “original works of authorship,”31217 U.S.C. § 102(a); see also H.R. Rep. No. 94-1476, at 51 (1976). even in the face of alluring technological developments, work must be done to decipher between these considerations and identify those that are legally cognizable. While Drake likely cannot

vindicate his copyright ownership rights by taking Fake Drake to court, future artists similarly affected might face a different trajectory thanks to “Heart on My Sleeve,” and how it turned the country’s attention to the question of how copyright law interacts with generative AI music.

98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 663

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* Executive Senior Editor, Southern California Law Review, Volume 98; J.D. Candidate 2025, University of Southern California Gould School of Law; B.A. 2022, University of Arizona, W.A. Franke Honors College. Thank you to Professor Barnett for his support and guidance, and to the members of the Southern California Law Review for their thoughtful suggestions.

Stringing Along the Songwriter: Successes and Shortcomings of Copyright Policy in Title I of the Music Modernization Act

Congress’s enactment of the Music Modernization Act (“MMA”) in 2018 introduced the most substantial revision to copyright law in two decades and represented a landmark moment for the music industry. Over the prior decade, the rise of music streaming had taken the music business to the brink of disaster, as many of artists’ most foundational rights within music copyright law proved fundamentally incongruent with a digital future. Amongst the worst hit were songwriters and composers whose royalties had so drastically declined that many throughout the industry felt it was just a matter of time before the profession ceased to exist.

The MMA—particularly its Title I—sought to revive the industry, and five years on from its passage, music industry leaders and lawmakers on Capitol Hill reopened a conversation around the law’s successes and shortcomings given the new era of technological innovation around the corner. Through the lens of music copyright law’s three policy goals—access, incentive, and reduction of transaction costs—this Note closely examines Title I’s implementation to date. It provides a new analysis of the law’s key provisions, including the accomplishments of the Mechanical Licensing Collective and the adoption of a new willing-buyer willing-seller royalty rate setting standard in the most recent Copyright Royalty Board rate proceeding. This Note ultimately argues that Title I of the MMA successfully responded to the most immediate challenges in music copyright law, effectively eliminating untenable transaction costs that left an antiquated licensing system nearly nonfunctional. However, it has achieved relatively marginal results for one of its central aspirations and one of the industry’s most looming concerns: the hollowing out of the songwriting profession, as artists can no longer afford to create for such little return. The plight of the songwriter thus remains one of the music industry’s most fundamental yet unanswered problems in the digital age.

INTRODUCTION

In June 2023, the Recording Industry Association of America, the nation’s leading trade organization for the recording industry, announced that Avicii’s 2013 hit song “Wake Me Up” had become the highest-selling dance track in the organization’s seventy-year history.1Katie Bain, Avicii’s ‘Wake Me Up’ Becomes RIAA’s Highest Certified Dance Song, Billboard (Jun. 16, 2023), https://www.billboard.com/music/music-news/avicii-wake-me-up-first-dance-song-riaa-diamond-certification-1235356414 [https://perma.cc/3T5Z-3XHT]. Just two months later, that August, the chart-topping track joined the ranks of just over forty songs ever to have reached two billion streams on Spotify.2Cameron Sunkel, Avicii’s “Wake Me Up” Enters Spotify’s Ultra-Exclusive Two-Billion Streams Club, EDM.com (Aug. 22, 2023), https://edm.com/news/avicii-wake-me-up-spotify-2-billion-streams-club [https://archive.ph/v1siK]. When it was first released over ten years ago, the song quickly rose to become Spotify’s then-most streamed song of all time and Pandora’s thirteenth most streamed song of all time.3Aloe Blacc, Aloe Blacc: Streaming Services Need to Pay Songwriters Fairly, Wired (Nov. 5, 2014, 6:30 AM), https://www.wired.com/2014/11/aloe-blacc-pay-songwriters [https://archive.ph/u7g5G]. However, in November 2014, Aloe Blacc, the now-famous artist who wrote and sang the song’s ubiquitous chorus, publicly revealed that the song had made only $12,259 in royalties off of 168 million streams on Pandora’s digital streaming platform.4Id. From there, the sum was split amongst the song’s publishers, Aloe Blacc, and his two other co-writers, leaving Blacc with less than $4,000 made off of the United States’ largest music streaming platform at the time.5Id.

While Blacc once could have received consistent royalty payments from physical album and digital download sales, an antiquated copyright system controlling songwriters’ work left him and other songwriters defenseless in the new music streaming era. Blacc lamented that the digital age presented a disappointing irony that while more people than ever enjoyed widespread access to music and benefited from songwriters’ creative labor, songwriters were being paid out by streaming services at “abhorrently low rates” and struggling to make ends meet.6Id. Despite incredible demand for their craft, he said that songwriters like him had “no power” to protect the music they created, signaling to songwriters that their work was not valued.7Id.

Blacc’s story was a dime a dozen in the 2010s as music streaming services rapidly became the primary mode of music consumption. Kevin Kadish, who wrote Meghan Trainor’s 2014 breakout hit “All About the Base,” told the House Judiciary Committee in a 2015 roundtable that he had made just $5,679 off of 178 million streams of the song,8Nate Rau, ‘All About That Bass’ Writer Decries Streaming Revenue, The Tennessean (Sept. 22, 2015, 7:03 PM), https://www.tennessean.com/story/money/industries/music/2015/09/22/all-bass-writer-decries-streaming-revenue/72570464 [https://perma.cc/594H-59MM]; see also Amelia Butterly, All About That Bass Writer Says He Got $5,679 from 178M Streams, BBC: News (Sept. 24, 2015), https://www.bbc.com/news/newsbeat-34344619 [https://perma.cc/3L77-B33J]. despite the fact that it had spent eight consecutive weeks at number one on the Billboard Hot 100—the longest of any female artist that year9Nielsen Music, Year-End Music Report: U.S. 2019 18 (2019).—and was the bestselling song of the decade by any female artist.10Gary Trust, Meghan Trainor Tops Hot 100 for Eighth Week, Hozier Hits Top 10, Billboard (Oct. 29, 2014), https://www.billboard.com/pro/hot-100-meghan-trainor-hozier-top-10 [https://archive.ph/OCs19]. Kadish was just one of over a hundred testimonies at that roundtable relaying the plight of songwriters in the digital age.11Rau, supra note 8.

While digital streaming rapidly transformed the music industry, the legal framework for music copyright fell drastically behind. Ad hoc solutions to monopoly and antitrust concerns from eras of long-dead technologies were cemented into the legal regime, saddling musical composition copyrights with an incoherent patchwork of restrictive copyright laws. Songwriters’ and composers’ most foundational rights thus reflected early twentieth-century problem-solving that was fundamentally incongruent with a digital future.

The shortcomings of the old music copyright landscape became evident throughout the 2010s’ massive decline of songwriter remuneration. Songwriters like Blacc and Kadish penned some of the most recognizable songs of the past decade and wrote hits for some of the country’s greatest pop stars. Yet still, Kadish asked members of Congress how he was to feed his family, making just $5,600 off about “as big a song as a songwriter can have in their career.”12Id. Meanwhile, the majority of songwriters, accustomed to a generally middle-class life in their profession before the streaming era,13See infra Section I.D.1. would never write a song with anywhere near this level of success; for them, the situation was even more distressing.

Concurrently, music publishing companies, which often own and manage songwriters’ copyrights in whole or in part, encountered financial challenges mirroring those of the songwriters they represented. Even digital streaming providers felt the constraints of working within an outdated legal system, which made it nearly impossible to properly license songwriters’ works as required by their business model. Then-fledgling music streaming providers faced a barrage of infringement lawsuits, jeopardizing their ability to grow despite widespread public popularity.

In 2018, Congress enacted the Orrin G. Hatch–Bob Goodlatte Music Modernization Act (“Music Modernization Act” or “MMA”), a major step towards aligning the music industry with modern digital technology.14Kenneth J. Abdo & Jacob M. Abdo, What You Need to Know About the Music Modernization Act, 35 Ent. & Sports Law. 1, 2 (2019). See generally Orrin G. Hatch–Bob Goodlatte Music Modernization Act, Pub. L. No. 115-264, 132 Stat. 3676 (2018). The MMA emerged from a comprehensive negotiation amongst numerous industry players—from publishers and songwriters to record labels and recording artists to fast-growing digital music streaming services. It represented unprecedented consensus across the music industry.

The MMA amended Title 17 of the U.S. Code, also known as the Copyright Act, which, despite two decades of major technological innovation, had not seen any major revision since 1998.15Abdo & Abdo, supra note 14, at 1. See generally Copyright Term Extension Act, Pub. L. No. 105-298, 112 Stat. 2827 (1998). Its three titles each aimed to tackle distinct issues in the music copyright landscape. Title I, known more specifically as the Musical Works Modernization Act (“MWMA”), addressed songwriter and publisher concerns emerging from the digital age and is the focus of this Note. Specifically, it redefined the administration of the compulsory mechanical license in response to the incompatibility of interactive streaming services with the old music copyright regime.16See, e.g., Abdo & Abdo, supra note 14, at 2. The remaining two Titles of the MMA addressed copyright concerns for recording artists: Title II, the Classics Protection and Access Act, fixed a gap in prior copyright law by bringing pre-1972 sound recordings under copyright protection, and Title III, the Allocation for Music Producers Act, enables music producers, mixers, and sound engineers to receive royalties on sound recordings.17See, e.g., id. at 3–4.

2023 marked the fifth anniversary of the Music Modernization Act, rekindling conversations around its successes and shortcomings, particularly concerning Title I. This Note will discuss the ways in which the development of Title I of the MMA embodies a classic copyright struggle between incentive, access, and transaction costs, arguing that while it aimed to better address deep transaction cost and incentive gap concerns arising from the streaming industry—and succeeds in doing so where an urgent solution was required—there remain important unresolved tensions in music copyright law for songwriters. The songwriters upon which the music industry is built still insist that their profession is dying, and early indicators suggest that the MMA did not go far enough to fully correct failures of traditional copyright policy goals. Ultimately, Title I of the MMA recalibrated messy transaction costs that became glaringly apparent in the pre-MMA regime, but policymakers have yet to strike the right balance between incentive and access that underlies copyright policy.

I.  THE MUSIC COPYRIGHT LANDSCAPE

A.  Mechanics of Music Copyright

1.  Copyright Basics

Each song you listen to on the radio or stream on Spotify contains two separate copyrights: a copyright to the song’s sound recording, known as a master recording or a “master,” and a copyright to the underlying musical composition embodied in the sound recording.18United States Copyright Office, Copyright and the Music Marketplace: A Report of the Register of Copyrights 16 (2015) [hereinafter Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report]; Eric Priest, The Future of Music Copyright Collectives in the Digital Streaming Age, 45 Colum. J.L. & Arts 1, 6–7 (2021). Thus, the performance and distribution of a song’s recordings trigger royalties payable to both the holder of the composition copyright and the sound recording copyright.19Generally, the same royalties are triggered for both parties, with the one major exception being that the holder of a sound recording copyright is not entitled to public performance royalties in non-digital media. See 17 U.S.C. § 106(4), (6). Sound recording copyrights are held by record labels and artists, while copyrights to musical compositions are held by music publishers, songwriters, and composers.20Donald S. Passman, All You Need to Know About the Music Business 213, 215, 225–26 (10th ed. 2019). For example, as depicted in Figure 1, SZA’s 2022 song “Kill Bill” is copyrighted as a master sound recording and as a musical composition.21See infra Figure 1. Use of the sound recording would require royalties to be paid to SZA’s record label, Top Dawg RCA, and SZA as the recording artist. Conversely, the song’s underlying musical composition and lyrics also have a copyright; royalties for its use would be distributed amongst the three rights-holding music publishers and three credited songwriters. While these two types of copyrights, in theory, are granted the same exclusive rights, the licensing regimes arising out of these two copyrights have diverged over time, altering how these two categories of rights holders benefit from their exclusive rights. This Note will focus on the copyright licensing regime for music compositions owned by publishers and songwriters, as Title I of the Music Modernization Act introduced a drastic alteration in this licensing landscape.

Figure 1.  Two Copyrights, One Song

Sources: Adapted from Sarah Jeong, A $1.6 Billion Spotify Lawsuit Is Based on a Law Made for Player Pianos, The Verge (Mar. 14, 2018, 9:28 AM), https://www.theverge.com/2018/3/14/17117160/spotify-mechanical-license-copyright-wixen-explainer [https://perma.cc/2QHB-DTPY]. Copyright ownership data is from The MLC Public Work Search, The MLC, https://portal.themlc.com/search#work [https://perma.cc/T6LA-4Z6X] (searched under “Work Title” for the song “Kill Bill,” added writer name criteria, and searched for Rob Bisel).

Under § 106 of the Copyright Act, copyright holders gain six primary exclusive rights as a result of their copyright including (1) the right to reproduce the copyrighted work; (2) the right to prepare derivative works based upon the work; (3) the right to distribute copies of the work; (4) the right to perform the work publicly; and (5) the right to display the work publicly, a right tending to be less prevalent in music copyright beyond displaying lyrics publicly or online.2217 U.S.C § 106; Passman, supra note 20, at 212–14. Section 106(4) grants the right to perform a work publicly but explicitly excludes sound recordings from that right due to forceful lobbying by terrestrial radio stations in the 1970s. 17 U.S.C § 106(4); Passman, supra note 20, at 213. Today, there is a sixth exclusive right in § 106, which grants the right to publicly perform sound recordings via digital audio transmissions; however, sound recordings still have no exclusive right to public performance via non-digital transmissions. 17 U.S.C. § 106(6), (4). Copyright holders thus can license these defined rights to any willing buyer.

The licensing of a musical composition can be broken down into two primary buckets. The right to perform a composition publicly, or a “public performance right,” generates what are known as performance royalties any time someone plays a composition copyright holder’s song publicly.23Passman, supra note 20, at 225. This right, therefore, is most likely to come into play when a song is played on the radio or performed live (and now, when streamed on demand).24Id. These royalties, which will be of limited discussion in this Note, are administered through collective licensing organizations called performing rights organizations, or “PROs.” PROs are private, non-governmental entities that work on behalf of songwriters and publishers to license performance rights through “blanket licensing”—a licensing model that allows a licensee to use any works in a PRO’s catalog pursuant to the terms of a “blanket” agreement.25Priest, supra note 18, at 5; see also Jacob Noti-Victor, Copyright’s Law of Dissemination, 44 Cardozo L. Rev. 1769, 1814 (2023). The second license, called a mechanical license, encompasses the right to “reproduce musical works in formats used for mechanical playback.”26Priest, supra note 18, at 3; Copyright Act of 1909, ch. 320, § 1(e), 35 Stat. 1075 (codified as amended at 17 U.S.C. § 1(e)) (securing copyright for “the parts of instruments serving to reproduce mechanically [a] musical work); see also Passman, supra note 20, at 215. This license essentially bundles the § 106 rights to distribute copies and make derivative works of a copyrighted music composition in a “mechanical” format. Id. at 213, 215. Money paid to use these licenses is known as a mechanical royalty.27Passman, supra note 20, at 215. Typically, songwriters and composers “sell or license their composition copyrights to publishing companies, which will administer the copyright in return for 25–50% of the proceeds.”28Peter DiCola, Money from Music: Survey Evidence on Musicians’ Revenue and Lessons About Copyright Incentives, 55 Ariz. L. Rev. 301, 306 (2013). In such arrangements, licensees pay royalties to the publishers, who take their cut and distribute the remaining funds to the songwriters they represent.29Passman, supra note 20, at 220–24. As seen in the Figure 1 example, SZA’s “Kill Bill” is co-owned by three publishing companies, each of which receives royalties based on an agreed-upon percentage share of ownership in the song. Subsequently, these publishers distribute royalties to the songwriters they represent after taking their cut from the royalty pool.30In some scenarios, songwriters may represent themselves directly and manage their own royalty payments, though this is relatively rare. Id.

Figure 2.  Basic Framework of Copyright Royalties Within a Song

Source: Adapted from Ben Lowe, What Are Music Royalties? The Difference Between Recording and Composition Royalties, Songtrust (Feb. 16, 2023), https://blog.songtrust.com/what-are-music-royalties [https://perma.cc/3E6F-UMA8].

2.  Understanding the Compulsory Mechanical License

To understand the mechanical license’s original purpose, it is helpful to briefly look at its origin. In 1908, the Supreme Court decision in White-Smith Music Publishing Co. v. Apollo Co. held that piano rolls—scrolls of perforated paper used in player piano devices to mechanically operate piano keys—did not infringe upon a composition’s copyright because they did not constitute “copies within the meaning of the copyright act.”31White-Smith Music Publ’g Co. v. Apollo Co., 209 U.S. 1, 9–18 (1908) (“In no sense can musical sounds which reach us through the sense of hearing be said to be copies as that term is generally understood, and as we believe it was intended to be understood in the statutes under consideration.”); see also Cherry River Music Co. v. Simitar Ent., Inc., 38 F. Supp. 2d 310, 311–12 (1999) (describing the history of the compulsory mechanical license); Priest, supra note 18, at 15 (explaining the mechanical nature of automated player piano technology and its production of music via piano rolls). Thus, under White-Smith, only traditional copies of sheet music were deemed entitled to protection, and songwriters and composers (or the publishers that represented them) were powerless when others reproduced their music mechanically. While the Court hesitated to expand its understanding of composition copyright protection, Congress responded by establishing the mechanical license in the 1909 Copyright Act, mitigating songwriters’ and composers’ drastic loss of control over their musical compositions.32Copyright Act of 1909, ch. 320, § 1(e), 35 Stat. 1075 (extending copyright protection to “any form of record in which the thought of an author may be recorded and from which it may be read or reproduced . . . secur[ing a] copyright controlling the parts of instruments serving to reproduce mechanically the musical work.”); Jane C. Ginsburg, Copyright and Control Over New Technologies of Dissemination, 101 Colum. L. Rev. 1613, 1626–27 (2001). Today, “mechanical” music production is largely gone, making the mechanical license’s name and history a cause for confusion when contemplating how such a license might map onto modern technology. Regardless, the mechanical license still refers to the distribution of a piece of music—including on vinyl, CDs, digital downloads, and distribution via streaming services.

While the establishment of a mechanical right brought great relief to music composition copyright holders at the time, it came with one catch—a compulsory licensing requirement.33Priest, supra note 18, at 15; Passman, supra note 20, at 215. This compulsory license, created under § 115 of the Copyright Act, was the first of its kind in copyright law.34Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, supra note 18, at 145. See generally 17 U.S.C. § 115. It converts the copyright holder’s right to license into an obligation to license, allowing interested licensees to use a copyright holder’s composition without permission, provided that they pay a set mechanical royalty fee and comply with a specified list of statutory requirements.3517 U.S.C. § 115(c); Priest, supra note 18, at 5; Passman, supra note 20, at 215–16. Thus, if you wish to cover SZA’s song “Kill Bill,” you do not need to ask the “Kill Bill” songwriters or their publishers for permission, though you are obligated to pay a royalty fee and adhere to statutory requirements. Similarly, when interactive music streamers like Spotify36Throughout this Note, “Spotify” is used as the primary example of an interactive digital streaming provider (“DSP”). Other services such as Apple Music, Amazon Music, Tidal, YouTube Music, Deezer and so forth are several other relevant examples when discussing major companies that are paying royalties as interactive streaming services. However, Spotify is referenced as a primary example, given that since its founding, it has been the most dominant music streaming service in the United States and globally. See Online Music Services Used Most Frequently in the United States as of January 2024, Statista (Apr. 2024), https://www.statista.com/statistics/816313/online-music-services-popular-usa [https://perma.cc/FH9Z-SSVP]; Tim Ingham, Why Goldman Sachs Believes that Spotify Will Remain the World’s Dominant Music Streaming Service in 2030, Music Bus. Worldwide (Sept. 7, 2023), https://www.musicbusinessworldwide.com/why-goldman-sachs-believes-that-spotify-will-remain-the-worlds-dominant-music-streaming-service-in-2030 [https://perma.cc/2EHW-UNQT]. seek a license to stream “Kill Bill” on their platforms, these companies are not required to ask the songwriters or publishers for permission—they, too, are responsible only for the statutory fee and requirements.37Note, however, that they must also obtain a performance license for the musical composition and will need a license from Top Dawg RCA, SZA’s label, to use the sound recording copyright. The nuances of obtaining these licenses are outside the scope of this Note.

Beyond imposing a compulsory license regime, the Copyright Act set royalty payments at a frozen statutory rate, which was well below market value at a mere two cents per use.38Jacob Victor, Reconceptualizing Compulsory Copyright Licenses, 72 Stan. L. Rev. 915, 942–43 (2020). This fixed rate’s inability to adjust, even in the face of inflation over the next seventy years, led to its significant criticism as an injustice to composition copyright holders.39Id. at 943; see Howard B. Abrams, Copyright’s First Compulsory License, 26 Santa Clara Comput. & High Tech. L.J. 215, 234 (2010). Eventually, the 1976 Copyright Act created a statutory rate-setting entity, the Copyright Royalty Tribunal (“CRT”), to adjust rates at five-year intervals.40Copyright Act of 1976, Pub. L. No. 94-533, §§ 118, 801–10, 90 Stat. 2541, 2566, 2594–98 (1976); Victor, supra note 38, at 943–44. The tribunal was the predecessor to the current rate-setting entity, the Copyright Royalty Board (“CRB”), established by Congress in 2004.41Copyright Royalty and Distribution Reform Act of 2004, Pub. L. No. 108-419, § 801,118 Stat. 2341, 2341–45 (codified at 17 U.S.C. § 801) (establishing the Copyright Royalty Board (“CRB”)); Natalie Linn, Note, Mechanical Licenses and the Willing Buyer/Willing Seller Standard: Establishing Royalty Rates in a Vacuum of Knowledge, 40 Cardozo Arts & Ent. 313, 322 (2022). After the mandate for the Copyright Royalty Tribunal (“CRT”) expired in 1993, Congress created the Copyright Arbitration Royalty Panel (“CARP”), which carried out a similar function to the CRT under a different name. Id. at 332. In 2004, the CRB replaced the CARP system, and, today, is the entity that manages rate-setting proceedings. Id.; Victor, supra note 38, at 962 n.260.

Before the MMA’s enactment, the CRB (and previously, the CRT) was guided by four copyright policy goals defined in 17 U.S.C. § 801(b) to determine adjusted compulsory license royalty rates.42Copyright Act of 1976, Pub. L. No. 94-553, § 801, 90 Stat. 2541, 2594–95 (formerly codified at 17 U.S.C. § 801(b)). These “801(b) [policy] factors,” as they came to be known, were intended to “identify the royalty amount that would reward copyright owners and disseminators commensurate to their ‘relative roles’ in providing the public with access to creative works,”43Victor, supra note 38, at 920–21, 944 (quoting the 801(b) factors as written in the Copyright Act of 1976). The 801(b) factors stated that the purpose of the CRT:

(A) To maximize the availability of creative works to the public; (B) To afford the copyright owner a fair return for his creative work and the copyright user a fair income under existing economic conditions; (C) To reflect the relative roles of the copyright owner and the copyright user in the product made available to the public with respect to relative creative contribution, technological contribution, capital investment, cost, risk, and contribution to the opening of new markets for creative expression and media for their communication; [and] (D) To minimize any disruptive impact on the structure of the industries involved and on generally prevailing industry practices.

§ 801, 90 Stat. at 2594–95.
reflecting the standard utilitarian theory of copyright discussed later in this Note.44Infra Section I.C.

Despite the establishment of policy factors claiming to prioritize “fair return” to creators in consideration of “fair income under existing economic conditions,”45§ 801, 90 Stat. at 2595 (formerly codified as 17 U.S.C. § 801(b)(1)(B)). the policy-driven statutory rates nonetheless continued to depress mechanical licensing rates by “plac[ing] artificial limits on the free marketplace.”46Music Licensing Reform: The Register of Copyrights Before the Subcomm. Intell. Prop. of the H. Comm. on the Judiciary, 109th Cong. (2005) [hereinafter Music Licensing Reform Hearing] (statement of Marybeth Peters, Register of Copyrights), https://copyright.gov/docs/regstat071205.html [https://perma.cc/9X3E-MX28]. Notably, one of the MMA’s main goals was to address grievances with the rate-setting process.

B.  Complicating the Picture: The Rise of Streaming

For decades, lawmakers dealt with new technologies and the copyright questions they posed by bolstering a “patchwork of laws, industry conventions and private deals.”47Bill Rosenblatt, The Big Push to Reform Music Copyright for the Digital Age, Forbes (Feb. 25, 2018, 9:15 AM), https://www.forbes.com/sites/billrosenblatt/2018/02/25/the-big-push-to-reform-music-copyright-for-the-digital-age [https://archive.ph/Stgh8]. Over time, the music copyright landscape has become increasingly fragmented and complex, contorting to fit each new iteration of technology.48Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, supra note 18, at 25. This confusing legal scheme ultimately came to a head as digital streaming providers, or “DSPs,” began to dominate the music industry.49See id.; Rosenblatt, supra note 47.

Imposing mechanical royalty obligations upon discrete products such as CDs or digital downloads ultimately proved relatively straightforward, despite initial backroom quarrels about which exclusive rights were implicated by these technologies.50See Shane Wagman, I Want My MP3: Legal and Policy Barriers to a Legitimate Digital Music Marketplace, 17 J. Intell. Prop. L. 95, 105–07 (2009); Passman, supra note 20, at 233–34. For each record manufactured and distributed or each digital copy downloaded, publishers are paid a set mechanical royalty rate—currently set at twelve cents per copy.51Passman, supra note 20, at 217, 231; Determination of Royalty Rates and Terms for Making and Distributing Phonorecords (Phonorecords IV), 87 Fed. Reg. 80448, 80449 (Dec. 30, 2022) (to be codified at 37 C.F.R. § 385); Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, supra note 18, at 30; see also How Much Do Songwriters Make from Mechanical Royalties?, Royalty Exch. (Apr. 3, 2019), https://www.royaltyexchange.com/blog/how-much-do-songwriters-make-from-mechanical-royalties#sthash.O3tc1o9o.dpbs [https://perma.cc/QXP8-GPHG]. Because these are privately owned copies of music, each play is not a public performance, and thus, no performance royalty payment is required.

Ironing out royalty calculations for DSPs was much more complicated. When a listener streams a song aloud, is that a public performance, much like terrestrial radio? Or is it a mechanical reproduction and distribution of a song, like a digital download? Here, the traditional line between a performance and a mechanical distribution is not so clear.52See Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, supra note 18, at 25. To help with this dilemma, DSPs are categorized into two modes of digital music delivery—noninteractive and interactive.53Priest, supra note 18, at 8. Noninteractive streaming services, such as Pandora’s traditional genre-based, radio-like streaming platform, “substantially limit user control” of the music they consume, as the platform makes most of the user’s listening choices.54Id. Since this type of streaming was similar to radio, it was eventually determined that songwriters would only get performance royalties for noninteractive streams, mirroring what a songwriter would receive if the radio played their song on air.55Anna S. Huffman, Note, What the Music Modernization Act Missed, and Why Taylor Swift Has the Answer, 45 J. Corp. L. 101, 104 (2019); Priest, supra note 18, at 8. In contrast, interactive streaming platforms, such as Spotify, Apple Music, and Amazon Music, allow listeners to stream songs on-demand (“interactively”) by selecting and immediately transmitting the music they wish to listen to.5617 U.S.C. § 114(j)(7) (defining an “interactive service”). Some of these interactive streaming services also bifurcate their services between a free ad-supported service and a paid subscription service, which has controversial implications on mechanical royalty payments not discussed in this Note. These platforms fit neither a radio model nor a CD or download model, and existing law failed to provide guidance for resolving this tension. Thus, as interactive DSPs burst into the industry in the late 2000s, legal disputes broke out between publishers and DSPs to decide whether, upon deep analysis of streaming technology, such streams implicated either performance or mechanical rights.57Wagman, supra note 50, at 106.

Figure 3.  U.S. Recorded Music Revenues by Format

SourceU.S. Music Revenue Database, Recording Indus. Ass’n of Am., https://www.riaa.com/U-S-SALES-DATABASE [https://perma.cc/2X4U-6EG4] (toggled date range from 1998 onwards and opted to adjust for inflation). It should also be noted that Figure 3 displays the source of all revenue in the industry—not just songwriter royalties—to indicate general trends in music consumption. Such revenue streams would be split among composition and sound recording copyright holders, depending on applicable copyrights and contractual agreements.

Publishing companies and songwriters vigorously fought for interactive streaming to encompass both performance and mechanical royalties.58Priest, supra note 18, at 11, 13. Both royalties were two critical “pillars” of income that the industry had relied on for over a century,59Id. at 13. and the industry worried—with good foresight60As shown in Figure 3, this worry came to fruition. The mix of revenue sources in the industry has dramatically changed over the past two decades—evolving from physical copies on CD and vinyl to digital downloads in the early 2000s and shifting drastically towards DSP music consumption in the mid-2010s, with that being the vastly predominant music consumption method today. See supra Figure 3.—that music streaming would eat away at these traditional revenue sources from radio, physical sales, and digital downloads, which it so desperately depended upon for adequate income.61Priest, supra note 18, at 11, 13. DSPs inevitably pushed back, arguing that the publishers’ demands that they pay both performance and mechanical royalties for a digital transmission of a single song amounted to “double-dipping.”62Music Licensing Reform Hearing, supra note 46; see Wagman, supra note 50, at 106; Priest, supra note 18, at 11–12.

Ultimately, the DSPs’ argument failed, and interactive streaming platforms were deemed to need both a public performance license—reflective of the instantaneous nature of streaming—and a mechanical license—reflective of DSPs’ distribution through streaming—to utilize a musical composition.63See Priest, supra note 18, at 11–12. See generally Mechanical and Digital Phonorecord Delivery Rate Determination Proceeding, 73 Fed. Reg. 57033 (Oct. 1, 2008). Thus, interactive streaming services, many of which began as small start-ups, had to invest an immense amount of time and money to properly license content from both publishing and sound recording stakeholders. This extraordinarily cumbersome licensing system posed a challenge to the growth of DSPs and, as will be discussed further in Section I.D, created a tension that significantly instigated the enactment of the MMA.64Wagman, supra note 50, at 108; Priest, supra note 18, at 12.

Unlike the simple mechanical rate for CDs and digital downloads, mechanical royalty rates for streams are determined by a complicated rate calculation formula.65Ed Christman, Why Spotify’s Appeal of the CRB Rate Decision Is a Huge Deal for Songwriters and Publishers, Billboard (Mar. 15, 2019), https://www.billboard.com/pro/why-spotify-appeal-crb-rate-decision-huge-deal-songwriters-publishers [https://archive.ph/QjroX]; see Passman, supra note 20, at 235. The rates are calculated using the greater of (a) a designated percentage of a DSP’s total revenue, accounting for total earnings through both paid subscription and advertising revenue or (b) a designated percentage of the Total Content Cost (“TCC”).66Passman, supra note 20, at 235; Daniel Abowd, Comment, Something Old, Something New: Forecasting Willing Buyer/Willing Seller’s Impact on Songwriter Royalties, 31 Fordham Intell. Prop., Media & Ent. L.J. 574, 594 (2021). TCC represents the total amount that a DSP spends on sound recording and music composition licensing for interactive streaming.67Passman, supra note 20, at 235. For instance, the most recent CRB rate proceeding for 2023 to 2027, Phonorecords IV, held that the DSPs’ mechanical royalty rate is the greater of 15.35% of their total revenue or 26.2% of TCC.68Determination of Royalty Rates and Terms for Making and Distributing Phonorecords (Phonorecords IV), 87 Fed. Reg. 80448, 80458 (Dec. 30, 2022) (to be codified at 37 C.F.R. § 385). The rate measurement that is chosen is known as the “headline rate.” The amount DSPs pay for performance licenses is subtracted from the total money pool determined by the headline rate.69Passman, supra note 20, at 235. The remaining amount is then compared to a “mechanical floor” rate, calculated by multiplying each paid DSP subscriber by a “per subscriber minimum” mechanical royalty fee.70Id. at 236; Christman, supra note 65. Phonorecords IV has set this mechanical floor at sixty cents per subscriber. Phonorecords IV, 87 Fed. Reg. at 80458. The final mechanical rate is determined by the greater of the original bucket of money or the mechanical floor calculation. This summary merely offers a high-level overview of a complex calculation, highlighting the music copyright system’s intricate and often inaccessible nature when applied to digital streaming.

Figure 4.  Summary of a Musical Composition Copyright

Source: Adapted from Jeong, supra Figure 1.

C.  The Underlying Theory: Access, Incentives, and Transaction Costs

The patchwork of laws and licenses that make up the music industry, in theory, serve to honor very fundamental policy goals that lie at the heart of all copyright law. For music, in particular, policy is triangulated around three concerns: incentive, access, and transaction costs.

1.  Balancing Incentive and Access

In the American free market, intellectual property presents a rare occasion in which the state grants a monopoly—albeit a limited one—to incentivize innovation. The Constitution outlines that from the outset of the country’s establishment, the United States sought to protect creators via the “promot[ion of] the Progress of Science and useful Arts . . . securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries.”71U.S. Const. art. I, § 8.

Simply put by music attorney Donald Passman, it is entirely understandable that “if you created something and everybody had the right to use it without paying you, not very many people would go through the trouble of creating anything.”72Passman, supra note 20, at 211. However, while a monopoly over one’s creation drives an incentive to produce and innovate, it equally presents the risk that rights holders may place exorbitantly high prices on their works, blocking the public from accessing the “science and useful arts” the Constitution aimed to protect in the first place. Thus, under the predominant utilitarian theory of copyright, the story of intellectual property law is an “ ‘access versus incentives’ tradeoff”—a balancing game between maximizing incentive for creators while tempering the scope of their exclusive rights so that consumers can still access and benefit from their work.73See William M. Landes & Richard A. Posner, The Economic Structure of Intellectual Property Law 20–21 (2003) (“Unless there is power to exclude, the incentive to create intellectual property in the first place may be impaired. Socially desirable investments . . . may be deterred if the creators of intellectual property cannot recoup their sunk costs. . . . [T]he result is the ‘access versus incentives’ tradeoff: charging a price for a public good reduces access to it (a social cost), making it artificially scarce . . . but increases the incentive to create it in the first place, which is a possibly offsetting social benefit.”). This tension repeatedly comes to the forefront during the proliferation of new dissemination technologies—from the advent of the piano roll to digital downloads to modern streaming services. Each technological inflection point has illustrated that the balance between access and incentive—and between control held by users and creators—is in constant flux.74Ginsburg, supra note 32, at 1613–14.

The introduction of the compulsory mechanical license marked the beginning of numerous legislative decisions in the music regulatory regime that aimed to “recalibrate the balance between creators’ financial incentives and public access to expressive works” when rights holders’ exclusive control over their copyright and ability to pursue “free market licensing” would cause a failure of the copyright equilibrium.75Victor, supra note 38, at 915, 918. When Congress crafted the 1909 Copyright Act in response to the White-Smith decision,76See supra Section I.A.2. it hesitated to restore music composition copyright holders’ full exclusive rights.77Ginsburg, supra note 32, at 1626–27. It feared that doing so within the new mechanical licensing regime would allow copyright holders to “monopolize the business of [music] manufacturing” and prevent the growth of the piano player, a new music distribution technology with vast potential to increase the public’s access to music.78Id. Thus, the compulsory license provided a new legal solution to the incentive-access tension; in exchange for continued compensation, composition copyright holders—songwriters, composers, and music publishers—have been forced to sacrifice the control over their copyright and their right to freely negotiate prices on an open market.

This policy objectively appears to honor a balance between incentive and access; however, the strict pre-MMA rate-setting mechanisms rarely resulted in adjustments to royalty rates over time,79See supra Section I.A.2. raising questions as to whether the “incentive” provided by these statutory rates was able to respond to songwriters’ and composers’ shifting real-world incentives (or lack thereof). Notably, the prevailing utilitarian theory of copyright policy does not center artists and their incentives to create but rather views supporting artists with an incentive as a means to an end, with the goal of stimulating creation and idea production.80See Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. v. Nation Enters., 471 U.S. 539, 546 (1985); Twentieth Century Music Corp. v. Aiken, 422 U.S. 151, 156 (1975) (“Creative work is to be encouraged and rewarded, but private motivation must ultimately serve the cause of promoting broad public availability of literature, music, and the other arts. The immediate effect of our copyright law is to secure a fair return for an ‘author’s’ creative labor. But the ultimate aim is, by this incentive, to stimulate artistic creativity for the general public good.”). However, if copyright policy ignores artists and fails to truly consider whether it grants them adequate incentives, the access-incentive equilibrium will ultimately fail.

To properly gauge the effectiveness of the access-incentive equilibrium for artists, artists’ incentives must be examined within the industry structure in which they operate. In constructing the copyright system, Congress contemplated that creators would contract with corporate intermediaries such as record labels and publishers, transferring their copyrights in exchange for commercial distribution of their work.81DiCola, supra note 28, at 306. Thus, copyright incentive theory generally accounts for providing incentives to both economic actors—creators and intermediaries.82Id. at 305. Incentive theory “assumes a chain of value” in which money trickles down from listeners and music distributors to intermediaries and finally to the creators.83Id. at 306. While creators sit furthest in the chain from any source of financial remuneration, they are the source of the creative work that copyright policy hopes to incentivize. Ultimately, one will not know if this “quid pro quo” between incentive and access is working unless one “know[s] how much the creators are getting from the bargain.”84Id. at 301. Therefore, even though artist incentive is not the sole purpose of copyright policy, this Note frequently homes in on the growing disincentive to create in the songwriting field, both pre- and post-MMA, which jeopardizes the songwriting profession and the basic copyright equilibrium.

2.  Reducing Transaction Costs

For nearly all copyright interests in the American “free market licensing” system, “creators of . . . copyrighted works . . . are free to choose their licensees and negotiate royalties.”85Victor, supra note 38, at 915, 918. This free-market commitment falls away in a limited number of exceptions; only five categories of compulsory licenses exist—three of which are implemented within the music copyright regime, with the most obtrusive and well-known being the compulsory mechanical license.86Passman, supra note 20, at 214–15. What makes music different? Given that the incentive-access trade-off underlies all areas of copyright law, it cannot be the sole explanation for singling out songwriters to be subjected to a compulsory license.

Theorists widely believe that the strongest explanation for the compulsory license is that it not only balances incentive and access but also serves to “remedy market failures related to transaction costs by allowing licensees to bypass costly or unfeasible negotiations.”87Victor, supra note 38, at 919; see also Kristelia A. García, Penalty Default Licenses: A Case for Uncertainty, 89 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 1117, 1127 (2014). When the cost of a licensing regime to the parties is “substantial and logistically difficult,” transaction costs associated with licensing become prohibitively high and deter dissemination of copyrighted work.88Ginsburg, supra note 32, at 1616 n.12 (quoting Robert Cassler, Copyright Compulsory Licenses—Are They Coming or Going?, 37 J. Copyright Soc’y USA 231, 249 (1990)). This concern of prohibitively high transaction costs is specific to music due to how music is inherently accessed and consumed by the public; unlike other forms of copyrightable works, it is comprised of numerous little pieces of content, all of which must be individually negotiated and licensed in order to be distributed as a larger catalog.89See Victor, supra note 38, at 919–20; García, supra note 87, at 1127. The compulsory license thus aims to eliminate, or at least reduce, the cost of licensing negotiations. Although transaction costs have become the predominant explanation for the persistence of the mechanical license today, some caution that this justification has also been overstated.90Noti-Victor, supra note 25, at 1814. For example, on the public performance side of music composition copyright, PROs issue blanket licenses91See supra Section I.A.1. that similarly function to reduce transaction costs that arise from licensing each discrete piece of music.

Access, incentive, and transaction costs cannot, on their own, explain the logic of copyright policy. However, together, this triad of policy considerations is an essential framework to consider when assessing the legal landscape before the MMA’s enactment to explain its aims and determine the overall efficacy of the legislation post-MMA.

D.  Framing the Issue: Where Are We Before the MMA?

The challenge underlying copyright law is finding an equilibrium at which the three competing policy goals can coexist. The Music Modernization Act emerged from a rising tension between what publishers and songwriters felt was a desperate imbalance between the incentives provided to them by the music copyright system and the public’s unprecedented and increased access to their work via modern music streaming services. If more people were listening to music than ever before thanks to the mass proliferation of DSPs, why weren’t creators and their intermediaries sharing in that success?92Hugh McIntyre, Americans Are Spending More Time Listening to Music than Ever Before, Forbes (Nov. 9, 2017, 1:35 PM), https://www.forbes.com/sites/hughmcintyre/2017/11/09/americans-are-spending-more-time-listening-to-music-than-ever-before/?sh=14ac1d772f7f [https://perma.cc/W9KS-GUJR]; Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, supra note 18, at 74 (“[T]echnological developments have significantly increased the use of musical works, yet significantly decreased the income earned by songwriters.”). This tension was most acutely felt by songwriters, who sit at the bottom of the copyright “chain of value” and whose livelihoods were increasingly at risk due to the diminishing return for their creative works.93See supra Section I.C.1. Publishers, as corporate entities, suffered less financially overall than individual songwriters but were still concerned about their decline in revenue at the hands of the music streaming landscape. Publishers, represented by the National Music Publishers Association (“NMPA”), became a major lobbying force for change and ultimately were key negotiators in drafting the MMA.

Recording artists and record labels had similar grievances with DSPs, although to a lesser degree, due to less government interference and noticeably higher royalties granted to sound recording copyright holders. Further, recording artists could earn revenue through concert ticket sales to help buffer some of the DSP-era royalty losses.94John Seabrook, Will Streaming Music Kill Songwriting?, The New Yorker (Feb. 8, 2016), https://www.newyorker.com/business/currency/will-streaming-music-kill-songwriting [https://archive.ph/pNtX4]. Concerts were potentially a substantial source of income for successful artists—and a source of income not available to songwriters. Nonetheless, mounting concerns around the evolving music industry also drew in the Recording Industry Association of America (“RIAA”) as another key player in crafting the MMA.

1.  Compulsory Mechanical License Causes Drastic Disincentive

Musical composition copyright holders were particularly at a detriment prior to the MMA, given the limitations imposed on their copyrights by extensive governmental regulation, including compulsory mechanical licenses and restrictive consent decrees imposed on PROs.95See supra Section I.A. On the public performance side, consent decrees additionally contributed to the lack of return songwriters were seeing in their income amidst the increased popularity of streaming. Consent decrees are antitrust-related governmental restrictions on the two dominant PROs (ASCAP and BMI) that require them to license the music in their catalogs and restrict their negotiating power. Passman, supra note 20, at 230. Unlike the compulsory license, consent decrees do not set licensing rates, but if the parties cannot agree on a rate, they are sent to a rate court where a judge will decide the rate. Id. Further, DSPs and composition copyright holders alike found that the compulsory mechanical license did not sufficiently reduce transaction costs, as the mechanical licensing regime prior to the MMA proved far too cumbersome to allow for streamlined payments to rights holders. In 2015, in response to mounting dissatisfaction with the convoluted music copyright regime, the U.S. Copyright Office released a comprehensive 245-page report (hereinafter referred to as the Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report), studying the landscape and proposing changes that would “promote greater fairness, efficiency, consistency, and transparency.”96Victor, supra note 38, at 960. See generally Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, supra note 18.

The Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report admitted that “[v]iewed in the abstract, it is almost hard to believe that the U.S. government sets prices for music. In today’s world, there is virtually no equivalent for this type of federal intervention.”97Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, supra note 18, at 145. For composition copyright holders, the singling out of their works to be placed under a restrictive, involuntary licensing regime has caused deep frustration, as the mechanical compulsory license left them subject to rates far below free-market compensation. To be clear, songwriters and publishers are free to negotiate with mechanical licensees—and they often do. However, as mentioned in Section I.A, the pre-MMA statutory rates set by the Copyright Royalty Board (and its prior equivalent, the Copyright Royalty Tribunal) prevented free market rates from being achieved; even though licensees rarely paid the bare minimum statutory rate, the low statutory rate tethered negotiations to a lower price window.98Mechanical and Digital Phonorecord Delivery Rate Determination Proceeding, 74 Fed. Reg. 4510, 4513 (Jan. 26, 2009) (codified at 37 C.F.R. § 385). As a 2009 CRB rate proceeding described, “virtually no one uses section 115 to license reproductions . . . [but] despite its disuse, the section 115 license exerts a ghost-in-the-attic like effect on all those who live below it.” Id. CRB has openly acknowledged that their rates “have considerable impact on the private agreements that enable copyright users to clear the rights for reproduction and distribution of musical works.”99Id.

As such, publishers and songwriters were left with no real leverage when attempting to negotiate against licensees who knew that if publishers or songwriters defected from a negotiation, the licensee could just go get the license using the compulsory rate. To illustrate the extent to which the compulsory license depresses profits earned by songwriters, one can look at the overall split of Spotify revenue in 2016: for every dollar of revenue earned on Spotify, 58.5 cents went to the owner of a song’s sound recording (a record label or the artist), 29.38 cents stayed with Spotify as profit, 6.12 cents went to the composition rights holder to cover performance royalties, and 6 cents went to the composition rights holder to cover mechanical royalties.100Travis M. Andrews, In the Spotify Era, Many Musicians Struggle to Make a Living, Wash. Post (Feb. 4, 2023, 6:00 AM), https://www.washingtonpost.com/arts-entertainment/2023/02/04/spotify-grammys-songwriters-payment-musicians [https://archive.ph/Rwxmz]; How Does Music Streaming Generate Money?, Manatt, Phelps & Phillips, LLP (Oct. 12, 2016), https://www.manatt.com/insights/news/2016/how-does-music-streaming-generate-money [https://perma.cc/4GD9-ZRQ6]. The rate for performance rights royalties is equally low here, which reflects that performance rights licensing is also constrained by governmental regulation—PROs are bound by consent decrees that restrain their negotiation power. See Passman, supra note 20, at 230. Apple Music’s revenue distribution did not look all that different, though it paid about 6.75 cents on mechanicals and 6.75 cents on performance rights per dollar of revenue.101Manatt, Phelps & Phillips, supra note 100. While this is framed in terms of revenue split per dollar, each stream produces just a fraction of a cent for a songwriter, requiring approximately 1,000 streams for composition copyright holders to earn a single dollar.102Royalty Exch., supra note 51. While this statistic is from 2019, not much has changed since then, as the same royalty rates were used between 2018 and 2022. See Determination of Royalty Rates and Terms for Making and Distributing Phonorecords (Phonorecords III), 88 Fed. Reg. 54406, 54408 (Aug. 10, 2023) (codified at 37 C.F.R. § 385). Each royalty paid for the use of a musical composition is even further divided amongst the publisher and the songwriters who worked on the composition.

Figure 5.  What Happened to a Dollar of Revenue on Spotify and Apple Music (in 2016)

Source: Adapted from Manatt, Phelps & Phillips, supra note 100.

Overall, streaming represented a shift toward listening behaviors that do not “generate significant income for artists.”103Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, supra note 18, at 74. Streaming ushered in an overall increase in performance royalties earned; however, this slight increase in revenue—at royalty rates already persistently lower than publishers or songwriters would like—was unable to make up for the significant “downward spiral of record sales and therefore artist and mechanical royalties.”104Id. Many songwriters at the time reported “ ‘a reduction of 60 to 70% or more’ in mechanical royalties” since the introduction of streaming services onto the music market, noting that their amount of mechanical royalties only continued to decrease rapidly.105Id. at 72.

The below-market statutory rate for mechanical royalties and the shift in revenue sources gradually diminished the overall incentive for songwriters to write music in the pre-MMA market.106Further governmental restrictions on the public performance side of royalties also contributed to diminishing incentive to create, though this is beyond the scope of this Note. Id. By the time the MMA was enacted in 2018, it had been years since songwriters felt they could make a living off songwriting as they had before the era of streaming services. In 2014, Nashville Songwriters Association International reported that Nashville, a well-known national hub for songwriters, saw an 80% decrease between 2001 and 2014 in individuals claiming songwriting as a full-time occupation, lamenting that many songwriters have been “forced out of the profession” in the wake of digital streaming.107Comments from Bart Herbison, Executive Director, Nashville Songwriters Association International, on “Review of ASCAP and BMI Consent Decrees” to the U.S. Dept. of Just. Antitrust Div. 1 (Aug. 5, 2014), https://www.justice.gov/sites/default/files/atr/legacy/2014/08/13/307686.pdf [https://perma.cc/B7RA-7ZWH]. In 2016, acclaimed music attorney Dina LaPolt told one songwriter client, who was shocked by her measly royalty check after achieving a hit song, that “unless streaming rates [] changed and the music-licensing system [was] overhauled for the digital age, the profession of songwriting was on its way to extinction.”108Seabrook, supra note 94.

By applying the incentive theory of copyright to examine the music industry’s structure, one can see the creator and intermediary dynamic at play, such that even though publishers decried their diminishing incentives to administer the copyrights they held, even less remuneration trickled down to the creative mind whose work copyright policy seeks to encourage.109See DiCola, supra note 28, at 305. While publishers’ services are an essential part of the music industry, the incentive problem was exacerbated by the degree to which the publisher’s share of royalties also diminishes a songwriter’s return for their efforts, as they stand last in line for compensation.

It has often been asserted that when the compulsory license forces rights holders to give up control over otherwise exclusive intellectual property rights, the expected trade-off is, at the very least, an assurance of payment to copyright owners—this is what makes the license work within the balance of copyright policy goals.110See Ginsburg, supra note 32, at 1626. In reality, this guarantee of payment meant little in the way of incentives once DSPs became the primary mode of music consumption, and the royalty system no longer matched the predominant music technology of the day. While testifying in front of the Senate Judiciary Committee in favor of passing the MMA, Grammy-award-winning songwriter Josh Kear said of his community of songwriters in Nashville, “we have lost our entire middle class of songwriters—they’re gone.”111Protecting and Promoting Music Creation for the 21st Century: Hearing Before the S. Comm. on the Judiciary, 115th Cong., at 1:36:20 (May 15, 2018) [hereinafter Music Creation for the 21st Century Hearing] (statement of Josh Kear, Songwriter), https://www.judiciary.senate.gov/committee-activity/hearings/protecting-and-promoting-music-creation-for-the-21st-century [https://perma.cc/L3KQ-YU38]. Grammy-nominated artist Will Sheff affirmed this sentiment, telling the Washington Post that “ ‘[a]round 2011, the bottom fell out,’ . . . [marking] the beginning of the end of a ‘musical middle class.’ ”112Andrews, supra note 100.

While copyright policy does not center incentives to artists, the Supreme Court has acknowledged that, at a minimum, “[t]he rights conferred by copyright are designed to assure contributors to the store of knowledge a fair return for their labors.”113Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. v. Nation Enters., 471 U.S. 539, 546 (1985). The bounds of such a “fair return” may be debated; however, when incentive dissipated and songwriters left the profession en masse, something was surely off in the copyright access-incentive equilibrium. Ultimately, in the context of a new digital age, the pre-MMA legal regime failed to maintain an adequate incentivization system as had been a pillar of copyright law.114See Ginsburg, supra note 32, at 1626.

2.  Compulsory Mechanical License Overflows with Transaction Costs

In addition to songwriter grievances, the pre-MMA system also strained the growth and capabilities of DSPs. Streaming companies were immediately overwhelmed by the licensing demands of their business model as they attempted to manage a catalog of tens of millions of songs and an untenable amount of data.115Passman, supra note 20, at 239–40. Further, many of the song files that record labels shared with DSPs for upload onto their services had missing songwriter identification in their metadata, meaning that DSPs often had no idea to whom they owed money on the publishing and songwriter side.116Ethan Smith, Songwriters Lose Out on Royalties, Wall St. J. (Oct. 14, 2015), https://www.wsj.com/articles/songwriters-lose-out-on-royalties-1444864895 [https://archive.ph/WPtG4]. Due to a simultaneous inundation of information and a lack of information, unpaid mechanical royalties began to pile up.

In the pre-MMA legal regime, section 115 of the Copyright Act allowed DSPs to file a “Notice of Intent” (“NOI”) with the Copyright Office for each song it intended to use.117See 37 C.F.R. § 201.18(f) (2013). By declaring their intent to use a copyrighted musical composition via an NOI, DSPs were granted legal immunity from copyright infringement “until and if the songwriter or their publisher could be identified.”118Abdo & Abdo, supra note 14, at 2; see 37 C.F.R. § 201.18(f) (2013). DSPs filed NOIs by the tens of thousands, but without the infrastructure to locate rights holders, NOIs essentially enabled DSPs to use copyrighted material without being held accountable for finding and paying rights holders. At the same time, the Copyright Office did not review notices for “legal sufficiency” or errors11937 C.F.R. § 201.18(g) (2013). and was overwhelmed by the massive volume of notices submitted by DSPs.120Abdo & Abdo, supra note 14, at 2.

Further, rights holders bore the burden of claiming their royalties yet had no way of knowing when they went missing nor an understanding of how to claim them in a convoluted and complex system.121Id. This burden created yet another layer of transaction costs on the rights holders’ side; not only would it take immense time and effort on the part of the rights holder to navigate an impossibly complex web of mechanical licenses, but it also required cultivating a copyright licensing expertise that many creatives in the music industry simply did not have. Very frequently, this hurt independent songwriters the most, as they had little business or legal savviness to understand how and why they needed to assert their copyright ownership.

The mechanical licensing system quickly proved inefficient, burdensome, and unaccountable to rights holders in the context of the streaming business model. As NMPA President and CEO David Israelite pointed out in the MMA’s Senate Judiciary Committee hearing, the music industry was relying on “a [licensing] system that was built for licensing individual albums—ten at a time, twelve at a time—and using it to try to empower digital companies to put up 40 million songs overnight”; he asserted bluntly, “It doesn’t work.”122Music Creation for the 21st Century Hearing, supra note 111, at 1:40:02 (statement of David Israelite, President & CEO, NMPA). By 2015, an estimated $50 to $75 million dollars sat unmatched and unpaid by DSPs.123Smith, supra note 116; Ed Christman, Publishers Said to Be Missing as Much as 25 Percent of Streaming Royalties, Billboard (Oct. 20, 2015), https://www.billboard.com/pro/publishers-songwriters-streaming-25-percent-royalties [https://archive.ph/ZigRq]. The music industry thus dubbed these unmatched royalties “black box royalties.” This problem came to a head as publishing companies began launching lawsuits against the DSPs for, in essence, operating their businesses under a model that relied on copyright infringement, even if unintentionally.124Priest, supra note 18, at 12. In interviews, Israelite estimated that for roughly twenty-five percent of all streams, composition copyright owners were not properly identified, and “as much as 25 percent of royalty payments [were] not being paid to publishers, or [were] being distributed to the wrong entities.”125Christman, supra note 123. DSPs, daunted by lawsuits and claiming they wanted to “pay every penny,” began calling on the industry to work with them to develop a transparent and accountable way to manage publishing rights.126Smith, supra note 116.

Here, the problem pre-MMA was twofold. First, the compulsory mechanical license was no longer serving its purpose of reducing the burden of transaction costs because while licensing negotiations were feasible due to the compulsory license, the DSPs’ task of complying with licensing obligations was still near logistically impossible—DSPs simply could not figure out who to pay. Rather than prohibiting the DSPs from operating, the pre-MMA licensing regime compelled DSPs to function on an “infringement model,” which was damning to the legitimacy of music’s copyright laws. While the compulsory mechanical license may have once been an effective mechanism to constrain transaction costs, when imposed upon streaming technology, the transaction costs of mechanical licensing had shifted and were ultimately too high. Secondly, this issue further harmed the already-diminished incentive for songwriters to create because even as they produced work, it took ages to see that money return to their pockets—if it ever did.127Andrews, supra note 100.

Amongst the triad of copyright policy goals, it at least seemed that access to music was at an all-time high. Subscribers to DSPs only continued to increase, and Americans were listening to more music than ever. However, increased access cannot be considered without its tether to copyright’s countervailing need to incentivize creation. Rapidly decreasing songwriter incentive to create, coupled with the public’s disproportionate new-found access to music, likely signaled that the pre-MMA access-incentive trade-off was sorely out of balance.

Additionally, as publishers and songwriters fought to increase royalty rates, the DSPs had their own impending “access” problem looming over them. Since its invention in the mid-2000s, music streaming had never been profitable; even the major DSPs consistently operated at a loss since their founding.128Amy X. Wang, Spotify Hits 180 Million Users–and Loses Even More Money, Rolling Stone (July 26, 2018), https://www.rollingstone.com/pro/news/spotify-hits-180-million-users-and-loses-even-more-money-703781 [https://archive.ph/DBNmJ]. Though the DSPs’ business models ushered in a new level of public access to music, it remained a concern that these tides could turn. For how long could DSPs continue providing such a high level of access if their business model did not turn a profit? This long-term concern made DSPs fearful that royalty rate increases would stifle company revenue and further challenge the DSPs’ business model.

Table 1.  Pre-MMA Policy Concerns

Policy Goal

Score

Incentives

Incentive for songwriters is LOW, as attributable to a minimal statutory royalty rate, governmental restrictions on both types of songwriters’ royalties, and industry structure providing equal payout between publishers and songwriters.

 

Transaction Costs

Transaction costs are HIGH. While the compulsory license reduces transaction costs of licensing negotiation, matching royalties to songwriters imposes high transaction costs for DSPs and songwriters alike.

 

Access

Access is HIGH in the short term with concern that this variable may shift if DSPs continue operating at a deficit.

II.  SHIFTS UNDER TITLE I OF THE MUSIC MODERNIZATION ACT

The MMA passed the House and Senate unanimously in 2018 and received unprecedented support from a multitude of players in the music industry. It signified the culmination of years of negotiation and bargaining between music publishers, songwriters, and DSPs, which legislators facilitated in a moment when the parties’ interests were at last relatively aligned.129Spencer Paveck, Note, All the Bells and Whistles, But the Same Old Song and Dance: A Detailed Critique of Title I of the Music Modernization Act, 19 Va. Sports & Ent. L.J. 74, 83 (2019). DSPs, faced with a wave of crushing infringement lawsuits, had a major incentive to support the passage of an act that would accommodate their business model and protect them from future liability.130Priest, supra note 18, at 13. Songwriters and publishers, on the other hand, were desperate for a legal solution that would restore the value of their mechanical rights to something comparable to those before the streaming age or that, at the very least, resulted in a fairer system than the one they had been operating in for nearly a decade.131Id. Signed into law on October 11, 2018, the Music Modernization Act was the most substantial revision to copyright law in two decades.132See also Abdo & Abdo, supra note 14, at 1. See generally Orrin G. Hatch–Bob Goodlatte Music Modernization Act, Pub. L. No. 115-264, 132 Stat. 3676 (2018); Copyright Term Extension Act, Pub. L. No. 105-298, 112 Stat. 2827 (1998). Title I of the MMA, known as the Musical Works Modernization Act, not only endeavored to adapt the Copyright Act’s musical composition provisions to better accommodate streaming technology, but it also tweaked aspects of the musical composition copyright in ways that bettered the position of publishers and songwriters overall to counter issues raised by the streaming model.

At a high level, Title I of the MMA implemented three primary changes to improve how songwriters received their royalties and the standard for calculating them. First, it allowed DSPs to obtain a blanket mechanical compulsory license specifically for streaming mechanicals that would cover all musical compositions held in a licensor’s catalog, much like the blanket license used for granting public performance rights.133Music Modernization Act § 102; see supra Section I.A. In conjunction, Title I also established the Mechanical Licensing Collective (“MLC”), a non-governmental, non-profit entity authorized to “offer and administer blanket licenses” to DSPs, “[c]ollect and distribute royalties from digital music providers,” and maintain a “musical works database” to track information about licensing and ownership of mechanical rights.134Music Modernization Act § 102(d)(3)(c). These first two major changes enacted in Title I were designed to resolve “long-festering pain points” between publishers and DSPs due to the DSPs’ inability to pay out licensing obligations under the pre-MMA legal regime.135Priest, supra note 18, at 11. As discussed further in the next subsection, these two additions to music copyright law aimed to address head-on the mechanical license’s growing transaction cost problem that emerged from DSPs’ massive streaming catalogs. Lastly, Title I imposed alterations to the royalty tribunal procedures, “direct[ing] the Copyright Royalty Board (CRB) . . . to employ a ‘willing buyer, willing seller’ standard to reduce the potential for compulsory licenses to undervalue the mechanical right.”136Id. at 14. Ultimately, Title I of the MMA represents an acknowledgment that the fundamental balance of interests demanded by copyright policy was no longer in check.

A.  Addressing the Black Box Royalty Problem

1.  The MMA’s Solution: Creating the MLC

Three years prior to the passage of the MMA, the Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report had concluded that a centralized, comprehensive database of mechanical copyright ownership “would substantially enhance transparency in the music licensing system, reduce transaction costs, and facilitate direct licensing through private negotiation in the open market.”137Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, supra note 18, at 126. Other music licensing regimes, such as public performance licensing, successfully used the combination of a collective licensing organization and a blanket license to streamline similar transaction cost issues, providing a potential model for success.138Id. Thus, throughout discussions about the MMA, the concept of a responsible collective licensing body was highly supported across the industry. The entity that was created, the MLC, serves the primary role of administering the new blanket licenses and royalties and maintaining a comprehensive database of mechanical copyright holders.

Under the MMA, DSPs also agreed to pay all costs associated with this new licensing entity.139Mitch Glazier, David Israelite & Sarah Oh Lam, Two Think Minimum Podcast, Music Licensing After the Music Modernization Act with Mitch Glazier and David Israelite, Tech. Pol’y Inst., at 06:58–07:05 (Nov. 5, 2018), https://techpolicyinstitute.org/publications/intellectual-property/music-licensing/music-licensing-after-the-music-modernization-act-with-mitch-glazier-and-david-israelite-two-think-minimum-podcast [https://perma.cc/Q35A-RKQB]; Dina LaPolt, CLE Panel at South by Southwest: The Music Modernization Act: Changing the Licensing Landscape for Streaming (Mar. 16, 2018). Unlike any other existing licensing collective, the MLC does not take a commission from the royalty pool before distributing royalties, ensuring that composition rights holders retain one hundred percent of all royalties passed through the MLC and that their royalty money is not further diminished through the new collective licensing agency’s establishment.140Glazier et al., supra note 139, at 07:05–07:26. In the case of other collective licensing organizations, artists typically bear the cost of the collective by paying anywhere from ten to twenty percent of their earnings to cover the collective’s operation. Id. In exchange, when DSPs obtain a blanket mechanical license from the MLC, they are broadly shielded from extremely costly infringement liability and burdensome statutory damages.141LaPolt, supra note 139.

At the outset of drafting the MMA, the growing multi-million-dollar pool of unpaid black box royalties presented one of the most pressing challenges to restoring order in the mechanical copyright system. Exorbitant transaction costs from individually licensing mass amounts of content—not to mention the ex-post transaction costs of litigating licensing failures—directly cut against the compulsory license’s original purpose and placed both copyright holders and DSP licensees in untenable positions. Thus, a blanket compulsory license under the MWMA, covering all songs under a single lump-sum royalty fee, represented a major solution to one of the most glaring problems in the pre-MMA digital copyright licensing space. It was to be administered by the newly formed MLC entity, which became officially designated to carry out the MMA’s statutory responsibilities by the Copyright Office in July 2019.142See generally Designation of Music Licensing Collective and Digital Licensee Coordinator, 84 Fed. Reg. 32274 (Jul. 8, 2019) (codified at 37 C.F.R. § 210).

In January 2021, the MLC launched its full operation and began administering blanket licenses.143The MLC: History & Milestones, The MLC, https://www.themlc.com/milestones [https://perma.cc/U7CA-U766]. Only qualified DSPs are eligible to receive this blanket license,144Abdo & Abdo, supra note 14, at 2. and at the time the MLC became operational, it reported that over forty eligible DSP services had started using its blanket license.145Murray Stassen, Meet the Organization That’s Distributed Over $250M in Mechanical Royalties to Rightsholders This Year, Music Bus. Worldwide (Dec. 9, 2021), https://www.musicbusinessworldwide.com/meet-the-organization-thats-distributed-over-250m-in-mechanical-royalties-to-rightsholders-this-year [https://perma.cc/3VPK-JJ7W]. DSPs now no longer have to individually license songs by the tens of thousands and, as a tradeoff for this newfound legal security, the DSP licensees must pay out the full cost of mechanical licensing fees to the newly formed MLC entity. On a monthly basis, each DSP sends the MLC data that logs all recordings used on the streaming service that month, as well as the corresponding mechanical royalties owed, which the MLC maintains in its “MLC Portal.”146Id. It is then responsible for locating and paying out known rights holders in monthly payments,147Id. the first one of which was completed in April 2021.148The Mechanical Licensing Collective Completes First Royalty Distribution, The MLC (Apr. 19, 2021), https://blog.themlc.com/press/mechanical-licensing-collective-completes-first-royalty-distribution [https://perma.cc/YEX2-DEPU]. The MLC’s model ensures that DSPs regularly process and pay royalties for all licensed works—even those with missing or incomplete songwriter information—rather than allowing them to hold onto royalty money under the pretext that rights holders information was nonexistent or too hard for DSPs to track down.

After the MLC distributes royalties to known rights holders, it places all unmatched and unclaimed royalties in an interest-earning account for three years, where they await a potential match with their copyright holders.149Orrin G. Hatch–Bob Goodlatte Music Modernization Act, Pub. L. No. 115-264 § 102(d)(3)(G), (H), 132 Stat. 3676, 3694–95 (2018); Abdo & Abdo, supra note 14, at 3. The MLC distinguishes between royalties that may be “unmatched,” such as the black box royalties that have no known association with any musical work in the MLC database, and “unclaimed” royalties, which are matched to a song but cannot be paid out because shares of the song have not yet been claimed by their rights holders.150Kristin Robinson, The MLC’s Kris Ahrend on $1B in Payouts, ‘Illuminating’ Black Box Royalties & More, Billboard (Mar. 3, 2023), https://www.billboard.com/pro/mlc-chief-1b-payouts-black-box-streaming-royalties [https://archive.ph/poco0]. Both types of royalties make up the sum of money pooled into this account. If, after three years, the royalties remain unmatched or unclaimed, they are liquidated to known copyright holders—both publishers and songwriters.151Music Modernization Act § 102(d)(3)(C). Ultimately, while some unclaimed royalties may never make it into the hands of their rightful owners, the MLC’s pooling measure strengthens incentives for artists in the copyright system by ensuring that the money is, at the very least, redistributed amongst the rights-holding community. Prior, DSPs financially benefited from songwriters’ failure to locate their unmatched royalties, as the unpaid money sat in their pockets and created no incentive for DSPs to seek a solution to orphaned royalties.152See Abdo & Abdo, supra note 14, at 2. This further discouraged music composition rights holders, especially songwriters, who felt DSP’s unpaid use of their work signaled just how little both DSPs and the industry at large valued their contributions to music.

While the DSPs benefited from legal clarity as a result of MLC’s creation, the legislation largely arose from a recognition that songwriters needed to be “properly protected” and that a new mechanical licensing system required creating “sufficient incentives . . . to find the people the money [from royalties] belong[ed] to.”153Music Creation for the 21st Century Hearing, supra note 111, at 00:31:47 (statement of Sen. Diane Feinstein). With songwriters’ concerns placed at the center of the legislation, an independent collective like the MLC primarily protects and advocates for the mechanical rights of composition copyright holders. The MLC thus aims to ensure that, eventually, as few royalties as possible will languish in the ownerless “black box” pool by creating an accessible mechanism for songwriters and publishers to claim ownership of a work.

Though DSPs still escaped the primary burden of locating and paying out rights holders, the MMA took part of this burden off the shoulders of rights holders as the MMA established the MLC to increase transparency in the mechanical licensing process and conduct outreach to artists. Title I of the MMA imbued the MLC with the responsibility of “engag[ing] in efforts to identify musical works . . . and locate the copyright owners of such musical works,” creating an obligation on the part of the MLC to seek out rights holders rather than allow black box royalties to accrue without accountability.154Music Modernization Act § 102(3)(C)(i)(III) (codified at 17 U.S.C. § 115(d)(3)(E)). A central part of executing this mandate included creating a “musical works database” within the MLC Portal, known as the MLC Public Work Search.155Id. § 102(3)(C)(i)(IV) (codified at 17 U.S.C. § 115(d)(3)(E)). The public can access the records in the Public Work Search, while verified “members”—payable publishers or songwriters—can use related portals to register their works or find and claim an ownership share in an already registered work.156Musical Works Database Terms of Use, The MLC (Apr. 11, 2022), https://www.themlc.com/musicalworksdatabasetermsuse [https://perma.cc/U9HB-YRMH]. Each MLC database entry contains comprehensive information about the listed song, including the percentage of ownership share in the work, the identity and location of the composition copyright owners, if known, and ownership information regarding the sound recording that embodies the musical work.157Id. For example, Figure 6 shows MLC entries for two versions of SZA’s “Kill Bill.”158See infra Figure 6. The entry for the song’s original release indicates that the MLC database has information for 100% of the “total known shares” of songwriter ownership, including songwriter names and publishers. In contrast, the version of “Kill Bill” featuring Doja Cat indicates that only 82.5% of the song’s ownership is accounted for in the MLC Portal, so the song’s publisher or collaborating songwriter may search the song and discover whether their share of the work remains unattributed.

Figure 6.  MLC’s Comprehensive Database: The Public Work Search

Source: The MLC Public Work Search, supra note 21 (searched under “Work Title” for the song “Kill Bill,” added writer name criteria, and searched for Rob Bisel).

The MLC’s user-friendly database lowers the barrier to entry for copyright holders to assert ownership of their works, making it feasible for them to monitor their rights in licensing transactions. Additionally, by increasing assurances that songwriters will get paid correctly and reliably for what they are owed, the MLC’s Portal and Public Work Search should resolve gaps in songwriter pay and bolster the incentive for creators.

The MLC also works with another entity established in Title I of the MMA called the Digital Licensee Coordinator (“DLC”), which represents DSPs in the new post-MMA licensing system and helps the MLC carry out its mandate.159Designation of Music Licensing Collective and Digital Licensee Coordinator, 84 Fed. Reg. 32274 (Jul. 8, 2019) (codified at 37 C.F.R. § 210). See generally FAQ, Digit. Licensee Coordinator, https://digitallicenseecoordinator.org [https://perma.cc/R75Y-SW7N]. The DLC is required to “assist the [MLC] in the efforts . . . to locate and identify copyright owners of unmatched musical works” through active outreach to the songwriting community.160Music Modernization Act § 102(d)(5)(C)(iii) (codified at 17 U.S.C. § 115(d)(3)(B), (d)(5)). Together, the MLC and DLC create resources and host webinars oriented toward independent songwriters to educate them on how to assert their rights in the post-MMA copyright regime.161See Digit. Licensee Coordinator, supra note 159. See generally The Mechanical Licensing Collective, Digital Licensee Coordinator Announce Landmark Agreement, The MLC (Dec. 14, 2019), https://blog.themlc.com/press/mechanical-licensing-collective-digital-licensee-coordinator-announce-landmark-agreement [https://perma.cc/754A-AZSR]. The accessibility and transparency built into the MMA aim to further lower the transaction cost barrier for DSPs and rights holders alike to fulfill obligations that accompany the compulsory license.

Lastly, Title I of the MMA sought to make music composition copyright holders whole by capturing the millions of dollars of unpaid royalties held by the DSPs prior to the MMA’s passage, bestowing upon the MLC the responsibility of uniting historical unmatched royalties with their proper rights holders.162“Historical unmatched royalties” is the MLC’s preferred term for “black box royalties” but refers to the same concept. Stassen, supra note 145; Robinson, supra note 150. In February 2021, twenty-one DSPs finally transferred over $424 million to the MLC in historical unmatched royalties and provided accompanying usage data to help determine how the money should correspond with eventual royalty payments.163The MLC, supra note 143. Despite the DSPs’ continued use of songwriters’ content on their platforms over the preceding decade, this money represented the first mechanical royalty payment made for content with “unmatched” copyright owners. The MLC made its first payment of formerly unmatched royalties from the $424 million pool in June 2022.164Historical Royalties, The MLC, https://www.themlc.com/historical-unmatched-royalties [https://perma.cc/E282-9A5N]. As of June 2023, the MLC has distributed $24 million of the originally unpaid, unmatched royalties.165Id. The MLC has not yet paid out all historical unmatched royalties; however, its success in doing so will play an essential role in restoring songwriters’ trust in the music copyright system to protect their work and provide the financial incentives promised by copyright’s underlying policy goals.

2.  Unfolding Reality: The MLC in Action

As reasonably expected for the establishment of a new entity, the MLC was not operational until over two years after the MMA was passed, and only a few years have since passed for the MLC to prove its worth as a solution to the publishers’ and songwriters’ concerns.166The MLC, supra note 143. The entity was created and became operational in 2020 during COVID-19 pandemic, which also may have altered the runway for the entity’s operations. Id. That said, the MLC achieved a robust operation rather quickly, with over 30 million songs registered in its database as of March 2023167Robinson, supra note 150. For context, Spotify claims to host 100 million “tracks” on its platform as of 2024. About Spotify, Spotify: For the Record, https://newsroom.spotify.com/company-info [https://perma.cc/U6L7-2FSZ]. and having already distributed over $1.5 billion in mechanical royalties as of its recent metric announcement in October 2023.168Mandy Dalugdug, The MLC Has Paid Out over $1.5B to Date, Music Bus. Worldwide (Oct. 31, 2023), https://www.musicbusinessworldwide.com/the-mlc-has-paid-out-over-1-5bn-to-songwriters-to-date [https://perma.cc/5XXS-MXD6].

While these metrics contextualize the growth of the MLC, they reveal less about the entity’s success in achieving its founding goals. In this regard, however, it also seems relatively successful in its early stages, though much remains to be seen.169Infra Section III.A. As of March 2023, the MLC announced that it had achieved a consistent 89% match rate for all royalty payments passing through the collective,170Robinson, supra note 150. and in October 2023, the collective achieved a just slightly higher match rate at 90%.171Dalugdug, supra note 168. This match rate refers to the rate at which the MLC can properly attribute royalties to an existing song in its database, not the rate at which royalties are actually claimed, which still requires a proactive assertion of ownership by the copyright holder.172Robinson, supra note 150. With approximately 25% of all royalties deemed missing or unmatched before 2018, matched royalties have increased by about 15% between the pre-MMA system and now due to the MLC’s database and matching system.173See Christman, supra note 123 (citing that 25% of all royalties went unmatched prior to the creation of the MLC). The MLC’s CEO, Kris Ahrend, suggests that the more data the MLC receives, the more it will be able to close out this gap; the MLC continues to grow its database with the participation of its publisher and songwriter members.174See Dalugdug, supra note 168. Most recently, the MLC has partnered with five music data matching vendors to improve its match rate, though the MLC’s greatest challenge will remain in gathering data on its most difficult songs—“those created by DIY, unsigned songwriters, many of whom are still unaware of The MLC.”175Kristin Robinson, The MLC Partners with 5 Data Matching Companies to Increase Royalties Match Rate, Billboard (Dec. 7, 2023), https://www.billboard.com/business/publishing/the-mlc-improve-royalties-match-rate-new-data-network-1235545949 [https://perma.cc/992Y-NTLC].

Additionally, concerning the historical unmatched royalties accrued before 2018, $200 million of the original $242 million pool paid in February 2021 has been matched with copyright holders, meaning that the MLC has almost fully accounted for the historical void of rights holder information in just under three years after its founding.176The MLC, supra note 164. Though it has paid out only a small fraction of these royalties to date, this is due to circumstances outside the MLC’s control.177Since DSPs appealed Phonorecords III, the CRB rate proceeding for 2018 to 2022, the MLC could not pay rights holders the proper rates owed for all historical unmatched royalties from 2018 onwards until the CRB ruled on the appeal. See Songwriters of North America, Black Music Action Coalition & Music Artists Coalition, Songwriters Have Been Waiting Five Years for a Whopping $700-$800 Million in Royalties: Here’s What You Can Do to Help, Variety (Mar. 31, 2023, 7:57 AM), https://variety.com/2023/music/news/songwriters373-million-in-royalties-petition-1235569464 [https://perma.cc/W435-7DK4]; see also infra Section III.C.

In sum, the MLC is, on paper, doing what the MMA intended—just perhaps more slowly than songwriters and publishers would like. Though more work remains, initial data suggests that the MLC has absorbed a significant amount of the existing transaction costs that complicated and cluttered the pre-MMA mechanical licensing system. DSPs can no longer get away with licensing content for free, hundreds of thousands of unverified NOIs have been eliminated, and composition rights holders can seek out their work and lay claim to what they are rightfully owed.178See supra Section I.D.2. There are, of course, criticisms of the MLC as well. Songwriters have protested the MLC’s refusal to publicize the sum of money it holds in unmatched royalties, claiming that the MLC has an incentive to refuse transparency, as the majority of its board is comprised of publishing company representatives who disproportionately benefit if the unmatched royalty pool remains orphaned.179Dylan Smith, Songwriter Organizations Urge Congressional Action on the Mechanical Licensing Collective’s ‘Black Box’ Royalties—‘Very Blatant Conflict of Interest,’ Digit. Music News (July 24, 2023), https://www.digitalmusicnews.com/2023/07/24/mechanical-licensing-collective-black-box-congress-letter [https://perma.cc/ZT59-VH56]. These grievances indicate songwriters’ ongoing scramble for remuneration at the bottom of the value chain.180See DiCola, supra note 28, at 306. Thus, even though addressing songwriter incentive was one of the MMA’s core goals, it has become likely that MLC can only do so much to remedy this concern.

B.  A New Regime for Royalty Rate Setting

1.  The MMA’s Solution: A Willing Buyer–Willing Seller Rate

As previously explored, one of the direst realities prior to the passage of the MMA was the rapidly disappearing songwriter profession. Statistics and widespread testimony illustrated just how much songwriters’ livelihoods had been altered by the rise of DSPs; this reality was a repeated feature of discussion at the Senate’s hearing on the MMA in 2018 and framed a sense of urgency around passing the law.181See generally Music Creation for the 21st Century Hearing, supra note 111. While unmatched and unpaid royalties accounted for a fraction of songwriters’ diminished incentive, the bottom line remained that there was simply no longer enough money being generated by mechanical royalties in the digital age. The massive reduction in overall mechanical royalties caused by streaming’s replacement of physical albums or digital download sales and the long-depressed statutory royalty rates produced an untenable situation for songwriters. Though publishers, too, felt the strain on mechanical royalty revenue, the plight of songwriters demanded resolution by the MMA for copyright policy to achieve its stated goals.

Title I of the MMA, therefore, introduced a new standard for the CRB to use when determining mechanical royalty rates—not only for streaming but for all other mechanical royalties as well. The MMA shifted the CRB’s rate-setting standard from the highly criticized “policy-oriented” rate to a “willing buyer–willing seller” rate meant to reflect market demand. The standard, which the music industry had demanded for years, requires that the CRB “establish rates and terms that most clearly represent the rates and terms that would have been negotiated in the marketplace between a willing buyer and a willing seller.”182Orrin G. Hatch–Bob Goodlatte Music Modernization Act, Pub. L. No. 115-264, § 102(c)(1)(F), 132 Stat. 3676, 3680 (2018); Passman, supra note 20, at 234. As cited in another CRB rate proceeding that utilized the willing buyer–willing seller rate standard, “the Judges look to . . . a hypothetical marketplace, free of the influence of compulsory, statutory licenses.”183Determination of Royalty Rates and Terms for Ephemeral Recording and Webcasting Digital Performance of Sound Recordings (Web IV), 81 Fed. Reg. 26316, 26316 (May 2, 2016) (codified at 37 C.F.R. § 380).

To make rate determinations under this standard, CRB judges are also to “base their decision on economic, competitive, and programming information presented by the parties,” which may include factors like the degree to which a compulsory licensee’s service interferes with or enhances a musical work copyright holder’s other revenue streams and the parties’ “relative creative contribution, technological contribution, capital investment, cost, and risk.”18417 U.S.C. § 114(f)(1)(B); see also Web IV, 81 Fed. Reg. at 26316. Before the MMA, the CRB followed a “limited-evidence process,” and any market data was excluded from consideration when setting mechanical rates.185Passman, supra note 20, at 234. Thus, while the original 801(b) factors demanded that the CRB consider “fair income under existing economic conditions” as suggested by the incentive theory of copyright policy, pre-MMA rates clearly could not fully adjust for economic realities when the legal regime excluded market data from consideration.186Copyright Act of 1976, Pub. L. No. 94-553, § 801, 90 Stat. 2541, 2595 (1976) (formerly codified at 17 U.S.C. § 801(b)).

Despite the full legislative history showing the initial access-incentive justification for the mechanical compulsory license,187See supra Section I.C.1. in the 2015 Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, the Office asserted that a compulsory license “should exist only when clearly needed to address a market failure.”188Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, supra note 18, at 163. The report explicitly called on Congress to adopt a “uniform market-based ratesetting standard,” stating that “[t]here is no policy justification for a standard that requires music creators to subsidize those who seek profit from their works.”189Id. at 3. In taking this position, the Copyright Office acknowledged that the supposed access-incentive reasoning behind the compulsory license overtly restrained creators’ sense of incentive by forcing them to underwrite licensees’ royalty costs at their own expense. The willing buyer–willing seller rate-setting standard had also already been implemented in most other CRB rate proceedings.190Id. Some critics argue that shifting from a policy-oriented analysis to a willing buyer–willing seller analysis abandons copyright’s underlying policy goals;191See generally Victor, supra note 38. however, the failure of 801(b) factors to adequately support incentive, as shown by the Copyright Office’s findings, suggests that a willing buyer–willing seller rate could better account for some typical copyright policy considerations than the original policy factors themselves.

Additionally, songwriters and publishers advocated for this change in hopes that it would lead to higher compensation, reinforcing this provision’s goal of recalibrating the incentive-access tradeoff. Though the willing buyer–willing seller rate would not fully create free market mechanical rates, as would be possible without any compulsory license regime, theoretically, it at least mimics a free-market reality tempered by CRB review. David Israelite described these rate-setting alterations, stating that if “songwriters are to remain in a compulsory license prison,” the MMA’s rate-setting provisions “at least improve the conditions of their confinement.”192Music Creation for the 21st Century, supra note 111, at 00:59:10 (statement of David Israelite, President & CEO, NMPA). As his tone connotes, publishers and songwriters generally would have much preferred the abolition of the compulsory license “prison” entirely, yet in the name of achieving consensus legislation, accepted the shift to the willing buyer–willing seller rate.193Glazier et al., supra note 139. One skeptical songwriter described the songwriting community’s celebration of the willing buyer–willing seller rate as an “example of Stockholm Syndrome” in reaction to a “beautification” of the dreaded compulsory license.194Chris Castle, How Songwriters Get Screwed by Cheese and Pies, Music Tech. Pol’y (Jan. 22, 2021), https://musictechpolicy.com/2021/01/22/how-songwriters-get-screwed-by-cheese-and-pies [https://perma.cc/P7YE-UTPA]. Those who share this belief doubt that a willing buyer–willing seller rate regime will make any substantive difference in improving the massive incentive problem in the streaming era.

2.  Unfolding Reality: Phonorecords IV Under a Willing Buyer–Willing Seller Rate

Since the MMA’s passage in 2018, only one CRB proceeding has been decided under the new rate-setting regime, and this proceeding provided only minimal foreshadowing as to whether the rate standard can bring composition copyright holders closer to fair compensation of decades past. Phonorecords IV, which set the royalty rates for musical compositions between 2023 and 2027, began in 2021.195Tim Ingham, Songwriters Are Already Fighting for Better Pay. But in 2021, They Face an Even Bigger Battle, Rolling Stone (Jun. 15, 2020), https://www.rollingstone.com/pro/features/songwriters-spotify-amazon-crb-royalties-war-1015116 [https://archive.ph/LK278]. At its outset, the key industry parties involved in the proceedings—the National Music Publishers’ Association, the Nashville Songwriters Association International, and the Digital Media Association (which represents the DSPs)—seemed poised for an extensive legal battle, as all submitted drastically disparate rate proposals to the CRB.196Tim Ingham, Can You Feel the Love Tonight? Spotify and Fellow Music Streamers Strike Agreement with Publishers for 15.35% Go-Forward Royalty Rate in the U.S., Music Bus. Worldwide (Aug. 31, 2022) [hereinafter Ingham, Can You Feel the Love Tonight], https://www.musicbusinessworldwide.com/can-you-feel-the-love-tonight-spotify-and-fellow-music-streamers-strike-agreement-with-publishers-for-15-35 [https://perma.cc/RQ4H-KWS5]; see Ingham, supra note 195. On behalf of publishers and songwriters, the NMPA sought to increase the DSPs’ royalty headline rate from the prior period’s 15.1% of annual DSP revenue to 20%. Ingham, Can You Feel the Love Tonight?, supra. In comparison, DSPs proposed a headline rate of 10.5%, the lowest royalty rate in recent history. Id.; Murray Stassen, Here’s Exactly What Spotify, Apple and Other Streaming Services Want to Pay Songwriters from 2023 Onwards., Music Bus. Worldwide (Oct. 26, 2021), https://www.musicbusinessworldwide.com/heres-exactly-what-spotify-apple-and-other-streaming-services-want-to-pay-songwriters-from-2023-onwards [https://perma.cc/9EW3-S2XN].

Phonorecords IV represented a major moment for many songwriters who eagerly anticipated the first rate proceeding to implement MMA’s new standard.197See Ingham, Can You Feel the Love Tonight?, supra note 196. However, in a surprising turn, industry players ultimately settled in August 2022 before the CRB’s final adjudication, agreeing on a royalty headline rate of 15.35% of the DSP’s total annual revenue.198Determination of Royalty Rates and Terms for Making and Distributing Phonorecords (Phonorecords IV), 87 Fed. Reg. 80448, 80458 (Dec. 30, 2022) (to be codified at 37 C.F.R. § 385). When the CRB approved the settlement and published its rate determinations in December 2022, it was rebuked by a number of songwriter groups, as they had held out hope that the new rate-setting standard would enable another needed rate increase.199Id. at 80451. For the purposes of a settlement, the Copyright Royalty Judges can only reject or approve settlements in whole. Id. at 80452. See Kristin Robinson, Songwriter Streaming Royalty Rate Settlement Released to Public in Full, Billboard (Oct. 7, 2022), https://www.billboard.com/pro/songwriter-streaming-royalty-rate-settlement-released [https://archive.ph/RQzgh]. Several opposition comments submitted to the CRB asserted songwriters’ concerns that the settlement “would thwart application of the willing buyer, willing seller rate setting standard,” which would have been applied for the first time in the absence of a settlement.200Phonorecords IV, 87 Fed. Reg. at 80451.

In its final publication of the Phonorecords IV rate determination, the CRB did note that although the willing buyer–willing seller standard “was not expressly applied as it would be in a full proceeding, the operable rate standard exist[ed] as a relevant factor” when considering the validity of the settlement.201Id. at 80453. The settlement, thus, was not devoid of the new standard, though the extent of its impact on the CRB’s decision-making remains unclear. The CRB stated it found no “reasonable basis” to reject the settlement and its suggested reasons may allude to the influence of the new rate standard.202Id. at 80452. The CRB asserted that it found no persuasive economic argument for rejecting the settlement, particularly indicating that the rate structure was not “gratuitous.”203Id. Instead, the settlement included thoughtful changes to prior rates and was designed through a careful negotiation in which “complex terms in [the] commercial agreement” represented a “market [that is] itself . . . complex.”204Id. at 80452–53. While this does not fully provide an analysis of how rates may have differed if they had been developed by the CRB under a pure willing buyer–willing seller standard, it suggests that the factors used to consider a free and competitive market do not necessarily lend themselves to as noticeably high of a rate change as many in the industry may have anticipated.

Additionally, the negotiation itself is viewed to represent prices set between a willing buyer and a willing seller, and, as a practical matter, this may forebode a stifled rate standard for future Phonorecord rate proceedings. Strong evidence suggests that regardless of settlement, the willing buyer–willing seller rate holds little weight when mechanical royalty rates have no hypothetical market of willing buyers and willing sellers—the mechanical royalty has never once been considered in the context of true market demand.205See Linn, supra note 41, at 335–45 (explaining why the willing buyer–willing seller rate will be challenging to apply to mechanical royalties). In 1995, Congress enacted the Digital Performance Right in Sound Recordings Act, in which a willing buyer–willing seller standard similarly replaced 801(b) policy factors in CRB rate proceedings for noninteractive public performance royalties.206Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, supra note 18, at 82; Linn, supra note 41, at 332. In that situation, the Copyright Arbitration Royalty Panel, the predecessor to the CRB, was left with “the unenviable task of ascertaining what a willing webcaster and a willing record label would consider to be a fair deal for Internet radio royalties in the face of an almost total absence of real world evidence.”207Linn, supra note 41, at 339 (quoting Peter DiCola & Matthew Sag, An Information-Gathering Approach to Copyright Policy, 34 Cardozo L. Rev. 173, 226 (2012)); see Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, supra note 18, at 82. In the same vein, the willing buyer–willing seller mechanical license rate “seeks to construct or emulate [a ‘market’ that] does not exist and often has never existed.”208Copyright Office Music Marketplace Report, supra note 18, at 106. Under this analysis, it seems possible that the NMPA, in pursuing this settlement over litigating for a desirable rate, may have filled the vacuum of market knowledge with a rate that will lay a foundation for future decisions and is less than desirable for publishers and songwriters in the long run. Notably, in past rate proceedings for a willing buyer–willing seller standard, the CRB found that “[t]here is no a priori reason to conclude that the rates set in [an] earlier proceeding failed to reflect or approximate market forces.”209Determination of Royalty Rates and Terms for Ephemeral Recording and Webcasting Digital Performance of Sound Recordings (Web IV), 81 Fed. Reg. 26316, 26382 (May 2, 2016) (codified at 37 C.F.R. § 380); Linn, supra note 41, at 329.

The Phonorecords IV settlement may suggest that, at least in the short term, the MMA’s new rate-setting standard will result in no real improvement in incentives for songwriters, as demanded to rectify the current imbalanced copyright policy. The early days of the Phonorecords IV proceeding may also provide insight into challenges posed by converting to this new rate-setting norm. Immediately after the parties to Phonorecords IV submitted their rate proposals, the CRB used the new willing buyer–willing seller standard to deny the NMPA’s request for further documentation regarding an initial lowball DSP proposal.210Phonorecords IV, Public Order on Copyright Owners’ Motion to Compel, No. 21-CRB-0001-PR, 1, 5 (Copyright Royalty Bd. April 26, 2022). The CRB rejected their request for information from the DSPs explaining the “historical quantum” of DSP revenue to be deducted from the mechanical royalty pool under the DSPs’ rate proposal and information on the “impact” of those proposed deduction terms on mechanical royalties.211Id. at 1. “Historical quantum” refers to the amount of revenue historically paid by DSPs, which composed the royalty pool prior to the DSPs’ proposal. The CRB held that such justifications for further documents may have been relevant under two of the former 801(b) standards of fairness and “disruption-avoidance,” but that such considerations of “impact,” “historical quantum” of revenue, and deduction terms no longer appeared to be appropriate when purely assessing market factors relating to the parties’ investment in their products and positions in relation to economic demand.212Id. at 1, 5. This further suggests that though the standard may in some ways seem liberatory by providing a comparison to an open market, it may also limit composition copyright holders from making arguments about traditional copyright policy considerations, including fairness.

Despite early signs that the willing buyer–willing seller standard may not yield the rate increases publishers and songwriters sought, any overall rate increases may also raise a concern on the horizon for DSPs. Phonorecords III, which set rates for 2017 to 2022, was the last CRB proceeding conducted under the pre-MMA standard judged by 801(b) factors, and it introduced the most significant rate increase in the CRB’s history when it increased the headline rate from 10.5% of DSP’s revenue to 15.1%.213Passman, supra note 20, at 235–36. The DSPs appealed this major win for publishers and songwriters, and not long after the CRB affirmed Phonorecord III on appeal, Spotify and YouTube music raised their prices just a few days apart from each other, indicating that when incentives to copyright holders improve, the access variable, in turn, is affected as well.214Erik Hayden, Spotify Officially Hikes Prices of Premium Plans, Hollywood Rep. (July 24, 2023, 4:42 AM), https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/business/business-news/spotify-price-raise-1235531034 [https://perma.cc/A44U-3W96]. Apple Music and Amazon Music also raised their prices the year before in 2022.215Id. While this price increase occurred in the aftermath of the Phonorecords III, a proceeding that was not the product of MMA legal changes, it raises questions about the cost of the willing buyer–willing seller rate should it achieve its intended outcome of increasing copyright holder compensation. Increased royalty rates are of particular concern for Spotify, which has operated at a loss every year since its founding despite being the United States’ most popular music streaming platform.216Online Music Services Used Most Frequently in the United States as of January 2024, supra note 36; Spotify Net Income/Loss 2009 to 2023, Statista (May 29, 2024), https://www.statista.com/statistics/244990/spotifys-revenue-and-net-income [https://perma.cc/UJ3Q-VKJG]. As indicated by the price hikes, the burden of licensing costs is ultimately passed on to the consumer and impinges on public access to copyrighted works. Nonetheless, while this concern remains in the background, the balance between access and incentive likely still demands an increase in consumer prices to effectuate the increased incentive necessary to salvage the songwriting profession.

Table 2.  Pre- and Post-MMA Policy Concerns

Policy Goal

Pre-MMA Score

Post-MMA Score

Incentives

Incentive for songwriters is LOW; attributable to a minimal statutory royalty rate, governmental restrictions on both types of songwriters’ royalties, and industry structure providing equal payout between publishers and songwriters.

 

MARGINALLY IMPROVED. It will require several more years to see how much the MMA altered incentives for creators. However, songwriter testimony strongly suggests that creators at the bottom of the copyright chain of value have not seen the MMA substantively move the needle on the incentive variable. This remains an urgent problem in the copyright policy triad, indicating that the equilibrium of policy goals remains unbalanced.

 

Access

Access is HIGH in the short term, with concern that this variable may shift if DSPs continue operating at a deficit.

 

HIGH, but the same problem remains as prior to the MMA. Costs will likely be pushed onto the consumer if royalty rates continue to rise in response to the unsolved incentive variable.

 

Transaction Costs

Transaction costs are HIGH. While the compulsory license reduces transaction costs of licensing negotiation, matching royalties to songwriters imposes high transaction costs for DSPs and songwriters alike.

 

VASTLY IMPROVED. The MLC has effectively begun to reduce transaction costs by mimicking the collective licensing and blanket license model of other areas of copyright law. It will take several more years to see the full efficiency of the MLC, but it has driven strong results thus far.

III.  CONSIDERATIONS FOR THE FUTURE

A.  Approaching the First MLC Five-Year Review

Section 102(a)(3)(B)(ii) of Title I of the MMA calls for periodic review of the MLC’s designation by the Copyright Office every five years to review the entity’s functioning and determine whether the MLC shall continue its designation as the MMA’s chosen organization to orchestrate and manage mechanical licensing.217Orrin G. Hatch–Bob Goodlatte Music Modernization Act, Pub. L. No. 115-264, § 102(a)(3)(B)(ii), 132 Stat. 3676, 3686–87 (2018). January 2024 marked the beginning of this first review period, though it remains uncertain what the scope of this review will include.218Mandy Dalugdug, US Copyright Office Launches Review of the MLC and DLC’s Designations, Music Bus. Worldwide (Jan. 31, 2024), https://www.musicbusinessworldwide.com/us-copyright-office-launches-review-of-the-mlc-and-dlcs-designations [https://perma.cc/FW7E-TSXR]. The MMA suggests that the Copyright Office will solicit information to assess only the high-level question of continued designation rather than initiating a review with further recommendations or imperatives for the MLC’s improvement.219Music Modernization Act § 102(a)(3)(B)(ii). Some songwriters hoped the review would include more, having raised concerns on various alleged issues regarding songwriter representation within MLC’s Board and other critiques beyond the scope of this Note.

Currently, no known reason exists to suspect that MLC’s designation will change. The MLC attained substantial achievements thus far in a short time, establishing its infrastructure, creating a robust and growing database, building out resources, and paying out upwards of $1.5 billion in royalties.220See supra Section II.A. See generally Five Years Later: The Music Modernization Act: Hearing Before the Subcomm. on Courts, Intell. Prop., and the Internet of the H. Comm. on the Judiciary, 118th Cong. (2023) [hereinafter Five Years Later: The Music Modernization Act]. Its success was publicly affirmed by an array of industry players in a June 2023 House Judiciary Committee hearing on the MMA’s five-year milestone.221Five Years Later: The Music Modernization Act, supra note 220. Even with successes, there has been insufficient time to prove the MLC’s full success or to render it ineffective so as to cause a deeper assessment of the MLC’s designation.

B.  Reconsidering the Compulsory Mechanical License: Theoretical Shifts Versus Industry Realities

A handful of songwriters have used the pending five-year review as a moment to demand another, more fundamental review of the music licensing system—a review of the mechanical compulsory license.222Dylan Smith, Copyright Office Declines to Revisit the Section 115 Compulsory License—‘It Would Be Premature at This Time to Engage in a New Study,’ Digit. Music News (Aug. 29, 2023), https://www.digitalmusicnews.com/2023/08/29/copyright-office-section-115-compulsory-license-review [https://perma.cc/VUC2-WC3W]. The Copyright Board outright rejected this suggestion, stating that because only two and a half years have passed since the MMA’s licensing changes were implemented, it would be “premature at this time to engage in a new study of the Section 115 license.”223Id.

While this demand was more of a pipe dream—and not within the MMA’s review requirements—the early success of the MLC certainly calls into question the basic necessity of a compulsory license. The mechanical compulsory license was once a fix-all solution to calibrating incentive, access, and transaction costs, but now, the MMA’s new collective licensing organization and blanket licensing system appear to pull their weight in correcting transaction costs. Even before the MMA implemented this model, it has been effective in multiple other areas of music copyright law as a solution to mass licensing numerous small, discrete pieces of content. Meanwhile, the compulsory aspect of the mechanical license continues to prevent a recalibration of the access-incentive equilibrium vis-à-vis an unprecedentedly high level of access and demand for music and an unprecedently low level of songwriter incentive to create it.

Theoretically, abolishing the mechanical compulsory license likely makes sense. In addition to being an anomaly in the American system, today, the U.S. remains the only country outside Australia to maintain compulsory licensing for mechanical rights.224Section 115 Compulsory License: The Register of Copyrights Before the Subcomm. on Courts, the Internet and Intell. Prop. of the H. Comm. on the Judiciary, 108th Cong. (2004) [hereinafter Section 115 Compulsory License] (statement of Marybeth Peters, Register of Copyrights), https://www.copyright.gov/docs/regstat031104.html [https://perma.cc/Q3Z3-PEHR]. Its use has also clearly been controversial throughout its history; in 2004, at the earliest outset of streaming in the music industry, then-Register of Copyrights Marybeth Peters called on the House Judiciary Committee to eliminate the compulsory license, recognizing that it violated basic principles of copyright policy and was a deviation from music licensing norms in the rest of the world.225Id.; Chris Castle, Five Things Congress Could Do for Music Creators That Wouldn’t Cost the Taxpayer a Dime Part 2: Update the Compulsory License for Songwriters, HuffPost (Aug. 5, 2013, 3:23 PM), https://www.huffpost.com/entry/five-things-congress-coul_b_3700995 [https://perma.cc/RSD9-B3GD]. Interestingly, Marybeth Peters also noted, twenty years before the MMA’s implementation, that collective administration of rights like those used in public performance rights would likely provide a successful alternative. Id. Traditional economic assumptions would strongly suggest that, given the music copyright system’s intense reliance on mechanical licenses, high demand from licensees would compel licensing parties to reach a deal reflective of free market demand without obligating composition rights holders to license their work under a compulsory regime. In other areas of copyright law, the free-market forces are continually presumed to engender a successful equilibrium between incentive and access, and both here and in other licensing regimes, the blanket licensing scheme has compensated for other concerns by accounting for transaction costs.

Still, while copyright’s theoretical underpinnings may support such a change, it is widely accepted throughout the music industry that its abolition will never happen. The Copyright Office asserted that review of the compulsory licenses would be “premature” at this juncture and did not rule out the possibility somewhere down the line, should the implications of the MMA be more fully played out and the MLC prove a comprehensive alternative.226Smith, supra note 222. However, throughout decades past, music industry players have voiced overpowering concerns that eliminating the compulsory license would cause “unnecessary disruptions” in the dynamics of the music industry.227Section 115 Compulsory License, supra note 224. Even more critically, a vast majority of the music industry’s convoluted legal patchwork is owed to the outsized influence of vigorous and effective lobbying in Congress at the expense of copyright holders. Far too many players in the copyright landscape depend upon the compulsory mechanical license’s below-market rates, and lobbying forces at record labels, DSPs, radio stations, and beyond will likely ensure that this reality never comes to fruition.228Tim Cohan, Peermusic Chief Couns., The A to Z of Music Streaming, Panel at USC Gould School of Law Institute on Entertainment Law and Business (Oct. 14, 2023).

C.  Songwriters’ Continued Plight Post-MMA

Despite the MLC’s relative successes thus far, the MMA’s fundamental flaw may be that it fixed the glaring problem of untenably burdensome transaction costs without addressing the looming, more existential incentive problem, which lies at the very core of copyright policy. In many ways, the distressing pre-MMA stories and statistics about songwriters explored in this Note have carried into the present day. As Grammy-nominated songwriter Erika Nuri Taylor told the Washington Post in 2023, “I got my real estate license [three years ago] because I thought I’m not going to be able to sustain being a creative person, a songwriter, for the next 10 to 15 years if nothing changes in the music industry.”229Andrews, supra note 100. Taylor, who has written for the likes of Enrique Iglesias, Janelle Monáe, and Meghan Trainor and has been a professional songwriter since 1992, says that her royalty income has been cut in half over the past five years, even after the hopeful enactment of the MMA.230Id. Today, she reluctantly considers herself a full-time real estate agent, holding out hope that she can still write songs on the side despite it once being her entire career. Her testimony is just one of many that have persisted after the MMA’s enactment.

Many songwriters will continue to create for the love of it, seeing their art form as a “spiritual calling” for which they have made great sacrifices.231Id. Perhaps this indicates that despite great financial pressures, the songwriter profession may evolve to become less reliant on copyright’s promise of financial remuneration and will continue to be driven by an intrinsic desire to create. Alternative theories of copyright address this objection, arguing that perhaps copyright ownership and its accompanying “incentives” to create actually play a very minimal role in motivating creative work.232E.g., Julie E. Cohen, Copyright as Property in the Post-Industrial Economy: A Research Agenda, 2011 Wis. L. Rev. 141, 143–45 (2011). However, even amidst these alternative considerations and the possibility that songwriters may still create outside the bounds of adequate copyright incentives, songwriters persistently indicate the impact that low royalty rates across both mechanical and public performance royalties have on songwriting as a profession beyond its persistence as an art form.233See supra Section I.D.1. Another songwriter cites that modern-day music no longer reflects the caliber of decades past because much talent is lost when many just “can’t afford to do it anymore.”234Andrews, supra note 100. In practice, modern copyright regimes serve as the foundation for entire creative industries; here, the music copyright system’s success dictates the success of the music industry as a whole, making it rather alarming when copyright laws fail to sustain their promise of a “fair return” for the class of creators upon which the music industry is built, resulting in the dying of one of the industry’s most integral professions.235See Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. v. Nation Enters., 471 U.S. 539, 546 (1985).

Notably, there are also some critical confounding variables at play in the songwriter’s plight beyond anything the drafters of the MMA could have predicted. Given that the CRB did not finalize the DSPs’ appeal of the Phonorecords III rates for 2018 to 2022 until August 2023, the MLC could not pay out royalties for that term without established rates; this ultimately delayed the full payment of an additional $700 to 800 million in streaming royalties over the past five years.236Songwriters of North America et al., supra note 177. From the rights holders’ perspective, even while their royalties may have been increasing on paper since 2018, in reality, they have seen no such improvement in their financial circumstances, as their payments have been frozen at 2017 rates well into 2023. Many in the industry felt the arduous appeal process was disastrous for the publishing and songwriter economy, and Phonorecords IV ended in a settlement in large part because music publishers were adamant about avoiding the impossibly burdensome costs of litigation and further wreckage it could cause for songwriters and publishers.

Until composition rights holders receive full payment from Phonorecords III and routine payments on Phonorecords IV, it is hard to judge the potential adequacy of Phonorecord IV rates that arise from the MMA’s new rate standard or, more generally, how effective the financial incentives are for songwriters within the current copyright licensing system. Further, as suggested by the Copyright Office, it may take several more years for the MMA’s efficacy to come into full view, as both the MLC works toward achieving its envisioned efficiency and the willing buyer–willing seller gets tested in the Phonorecords V CRB proceeding.

CONCLUSION

In June 2023, the U.S. House of Representatives marked the MMA’s impending five-year anniversary with a House Judiciary hearing in Nashville, reopening a conversation with representatives from across the music industry about the law’s realized impact since its implementation in 2018.237See generally Five Years Later: The Music Modernization Act, supra note 220. As discussion resumes on Capitol Hill, there is a renewed opportunity to reflect on the underlying objectives of a music copyright system and whether Title I has brought the current legal regime closer to those aims. Sustained conversation on these issues is more pressing than ever, as many in the music industry fear disruptive impact of artificial intelligence on a system already in slow rehabilitation from the shift to the digital age.

In taking stock of the industry’s current position, Title I of the MMA represents a major success in many ways. Its actualization was made possible by an unprecedented will within the music industry, with often opposing parties rallying behind the conviction that the music copyright system urgently needed to change. Title I of the MMA has pulled the industry from the brink of crisis, effectively eliminating untenable transaction costs that left an antiquated licensing system nearly non-functional.

In other ways, however, Title I also represents a band-aid solution to a crisis that boiled over in a fragmented legal scheme—a consequence of years of balkanized laws and decision-making heavily influenced by lobbying forces rather than fully reasoned policy. The industry’s united front may have emerged not from a desire to affirm value of the copyright system or artists’ creative works, but merely from the recognition that there was no other way out beyond a legal solution. As a result, Title I of the MMA has achieved relatively marginal results for one of its central aspirations and one of the industry’s most looming concerns—the hollowing out of the songwriting profession. The plight of the songwriter thus remains one of the music industry’s most fundamental yet unanswered problems in the digital age.

98 S. Cal. L. Rev. 205

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* Articles Editor, Southern California Law Review, Volume 98; J.D. 2025, University of Southern California Gould School of Law; B.A. 2020, University of California, Los Angeles. Thank you to my advisors, Professors Jonathan Barnett and Emio Zizza, for their support and guidance, and to the members of the Southern California Law Review for their hard work and thoughtful suggestions on my Note.

Infringement Episodes

For decades, copyright scholars have waged a spirited campaign against statutory damages. Our remedial system, critics say, is an incoherent mess. The core problem is that copyright holders can recover a separate award of statutory damages for every infringed work. As a result, damages can rapidly add up in any case involving multiple works. Because the number of statutory awards is tethered to the number of works, even trivial claims can lead to crippling damages. Commentators, policymakers, and judges have criticized this system as arbitrary and overbroad. And yet it endures.

This Article argues that copyright’s per-work scheme has obscured, and at times eclipsed, a more compelling paradigm of copyright damages—one that attends more closely to the defendant’s course of conduct. This new approach would allow courts to examine whether the defendant’s actions arose out of, and were rooted in, a single infringement episode. By infringement episode, I mean a chain of infringing acts that together constitute a larger factual event. When the defendant’s conduct is traceable to a single episode, courts should issue only a single statutory award—no matter how many works are at stake. This framework, in short, would substitute rigidity for flexibility. It would displace copyright’s one-award-per-work scheme and instead introduce a contextual inquiry into the defendant’s course of conduct. Doing so can mitigate the risk of outlandish awards, encourage courts to properly calibrate damages, and infuse a degree of much-needed pragmatism into our system.

INTRODUCTION

Copyright scholars have long taken a decidedly dim view of statutory damages. The federal copyright statute entitles plaintiffs to recover statutory damages without proof of harm.117 U.S.C. § 504(c)(1) (“[T]he copyright owner may elect, at any time before final judgment is rendered, to recover, instead of actual damages and profits, an award of statutory damages for all infringements involved in the action, with respect to any one work.”); see infra Section I.B. But our remedial system, critics say, is an incoherent jumble. Courts wield “virtually unfettered discretion” in assessing damages.2Cullum v. Diamond A Hunting, Inc., 484 F. App’x. 1000, 1002 (5th Cir. 2012); see also Fitzgerald Publ’g Co. v. Baylor Publ’g Co., 807 F.2d 1110, 1116 (2d Cir. 1986) (noting that the Copyright Act affords courts “wide discretion . . . in setting the amount of statutory damages”); Playboy Enters., Inc. v. Webbworld, Inc., 991 F. Supp. 543, 560 (N.D. Tex. 1997) (emphasizing the courts’ broad discretion in awarding damages “[w]ithin the range defined by the statutory maximum and minimum”). Statutory awards often seem inexplicable or arbitrary.3See Pamela Samuelson & Tara Wheatland, Statutory Damages in Copyright Law: A Remedy in Need of Reform, 51 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 439, 485–91 (2009). Courts are also deeply divided over the justificatory basis for statutory damages. Some believe that statutory damages derive from a compensatory rationale, while others lean more readily on punitive instincts.4See, e.g., Peer Int’l Corp. v. Pausa Recs., Inc., 909 F.2d 1332, 1337 (9th Cir. 1990) (“ ‘[E]ven for uninjurious and unprofitable invasions of copyright, the court may, if it deems it just, impose a liability within [the] statutory limits to sanction and vindicate the statutory policy’ of discouraging infringement.” (alteration in original) (quoting F.W. Woolworth Co. v. Contemp. Arts, Inc., 344 U.S. 228, 233 (1952))). Other courts, by contrast, insist that statutory damages “should not be converted into a windfall where, as a practical matter, the plaintiff has suffered only nominal damages.” Doehrer v. Caldwell, 207 U.S.P.Q. (BL) 391, 393 (N.D. Ill. 1980). For an overview of the justificatory framework underpinning the law of statutory damages, see infra Section II.A. And statutory damages sometimes lead to inflated awards that far outstrip any reasonable assessment of harm.5See infra Section II.C. The law of statutory damages is a disaster.

Underlying these pathologies is a peculiar feature of our copyright system: its per-work structure. Copyright holders can recover a separate statutory award for every infringed work.6See infra Section I.B. As a result, statutory damages can add up rapidly in any case involving more than a single work.7See infra Section II.C. In one recent case, copyright holders leveraged this per-work scheme to sue for a breathtaking award of $75 trillion in statutory damages—more than “the combined gross domestic product and national debt of the United States.”8Defendants’ Brief Regarding Plaintiffs’ “Per Infringement” Damages Theory at 2–3, Arista Recs. LLC v. Lime Grp. LLC, 784 F. Supp. 2d 398 (S.D.N.Y. 2011) (No. 06 Civ. 5936) (“Plaintiffs claim a potential award of some 75 trillion dollars—more than double the combined gross domestic product and national debt of the United States, and infinitely more money than the entire music recording industry has made since Edison’s invention of the phonograph in 1877.”); see also Devin Coldewey, Record Industry: Limewire Could Owe $75 Trillion—Judge: “Absurd”, TechCrunch (Mar. 24, 2011, 2:56 PM), https://techcrunch.com/2011/03/24/record-industry-limewire-could-owe-75-trillion-judge-absurd [https://perma.cc/6342-GL5T]. More recently, a jury returned an award of one billion dollars in a case implicating thousands of copyrighted works. Sony Music Ent. v. Cox Commc’ns, Inc., 464 F. Supp. 3d 795, 808 (E.D. Va. 2020), appeal docketed, No. 21-01168 (4th Cir. 2021). Describing the award as “unwarranted, unjust and beyond excessive,” the defendant vowed to challenge it. Court Upholds $1bn Copyright Ruling Against ISP Cox, World IP Rev. (Jan. 18, 2021), https://www.worldipreview.com/news/court-upholds-1bn-copyright-ruling-against-isp-cox-20590 [https://perma.cc/5XGZ-8LUG]. In another notable case, a record label brought action against Jammie Thomas-Rasset,  a single mother from Minnesota,  for illegally downloading and distributing twenty-four songs.9Capitol Recs., Inc. v. Thomas, 579 F. Supp. 2d 1210, 1212–13 (D. Minn. 2008), vacated sub nom., Capitol Recs., Inc. v. Thomas-Rasset, 692 F.3d 899 (8th Cir. 2012); see also Amy Forliti, Single Mom Can’t Pay $1.5M Song-Sharing Fine, NBC News (Nov. 5, 2010, 11:42 AM), https://www.nbcnews.com/id/wbna40030700 [https://perma.cc/Z9EM-EPMY]. A jury found the defendant liable and returned an award of $80,000 per infringed song, resulting in a total award of $1.92 million.10Capitol Recs., Inc. v. Thomas-Rasset, 680 F. Supp. 2d 1045, 1050 (D. Minn. 2010), vacated, 692 F.3d 899 (8th Cir. 2012). Initially, the jury awarded the plaintiffs $9,250 per infringed song for a total award of $220,000. Thomas, 579 F. Supp. 2d at 1213. On retrial, however, the jury increased the award to $1.92 million based on an assessment of $80,000 per song. Thomas-Rasset, 680 F. Supp. 2d at 1050. Aghast, the district court dismissed the final award as “simply shocking” and reduced it to $54,000. Id. at 1054. Following a third trial, the Eighth Circuit reinstated the first judgment of $220,000. Capitol Recs., Inc. v. Thomas-Rasset, 692 F.3d 899, 906 (8th Cir. 2012). Stunningly, by some measures, this award was 35,000 times larger than the plaintiff’s actual loss.11Thomas, 579 F. Supp. 2d at 1227. The plaintiff’s actual harm, at least based on a rough assessment by the court, was about fifty dollars. Id. (“Thomas allegedly infringed on the copyrights of 24 songs—the equivalent of approximately three CDs, costing less than $54.”).

As these examples illustrate, the prospect of outlandish damages is rather startling. Because the number of statutory awards is tethered directly to the number of infringed works, statutory damages can quickly balloon in relatively minor cases. The risk of financial ruin looms large.

Copyright scholars, in turn, have proposed a number of potential reforms.12See infra Section III.A. Matthew Sag, for instance, suggests that we reduce or cap the range of available damages in certain file-sharing cases.13Matthew Sag, Copyright Trolling, an Empirical Study, 100 Iowa L. Rev. 1105, 1139–40 (2015) (suggesting that first-time defendants in file-sharing cases face a reduced statutory award). Oren Bracha and Talha Syed contend that, at least under a compensatory framework, statutory damages should approximate actual harm.14Oren Bracha & Talha Syed, The Wrongs of Copyright’s Statutory Damages, 98 Tex. L. Rev. 1219, 1250 (2020). Ben Depoorter contemplates a variety of reforms that would make excessive damages both less likely and less costly.15Ben Depoorter, Copyright Enforcement in the Digital Age: When the Remedy Is the Wrong, 66 UCLA L. Rev. 400, 441–46 (2019). James DeBriyn calls for eliminating statutory damages.16James DeBriyn, Shedding Light on Copyright Trolls: An Analysis of Mass Copyright Litigation in the Age of Statutory Damages, 19 UCLA Ent. L. Rev. 79, 111 (2012). Michael Carrier would proscribe recovery of statutory damages in cases involving secondary liability.17Michael A. Carrier, Increasing Innovation Through Copyright: Common Sense and Better Government Policy, 62 Emory L.J. 983, 985 (2013) (“The second copyright proposal that would foster innovation would be to eliminate statutory damages in cases of secondary liability.”). And Alan Garfield endorses a host of different reforms—interpretive, legislative, and constitutional—to restrict judicial discretion in assessing statutory damages.18See Alan E. Garfield, Calibrating Copyright Statutory Damages to Promote Free Speech, 38 Fla. St. U. L. Rev. 1, 37–53 (2010).

None of these proposals, however, confront the core issue: the per-work structure of copyright remedies. To meet the urgency of the moment, this Article suggests a legislative reform that would do away with per-work remedies altogether. Instead, I propose that courts police the defendant’s conduct based on a more holistic approach.19See infra Part III. Our current system encourages courts and juries to engage in a rote exercise of counting infringed works.20See infra Section II.C. A better framework, I argue, would afford courts greater discretion to assess whether the defendant’s conduct gave rise to, and was squarely rooted in, a single infringement episode. By infringement episode, I mean a chain of related infringing acts that together constitute a larger factual event. When the defendant’s conduct is traceable to a single larger episode, courts should be able to issue only a single statutory award—no matter how many works are at stake. By focusing on infringement episodes rather than the number of infringed works, this approach breaks with copyright’s one-award-per-work system. It substitutes rigidity for flexibility, relying instead on a context-sensitive inquiry into the defendant’s course of conduct. And it offers an alternative analytical paradigm for thinking about copyright remedies.

To operationalize this approach, the Article sketches a richly nuanced account of when and why courts might treat a series of infringing acts as sufficiently intertwined to constitute a single episode.21See infra Part III. In particular, I argue that courts should attend to an array of interrelated factors, including the nature of the infringing acts; the time and place of each act; whether the evidence supporting one infringement is necessary or sufficient to sustain liability for another; whether the defendant’s actions were executed in pursuit of a common plan or a larger creative enterprise; and the potential consequences of a statutory award. If adopted, this multifactor framework would allow courts to avoid per-work damages when the defendant’s actions derive from a single infringement episode.

This approach may seem radical. Immersed as we are in a legal culture that prizes per-work awards, it may be difficult to conceive of a better system for assessing damages—one that is both administrable and normatively attractive. But if we want to put an end to excessive awards, we need to get judges and juries out of the business of counting infringed works. The way to do that is through structural reform that would enable courts to scrutinize the defendant’s overarching course of conduct.

The Article also brings this approach into conversation with other legal disciplines.22See infra Section III.B. Across a variety of seemingly siloed areas of law—criminal law, civil procedure, and immigration law—courts have already fashioned doctrinal tools to evaluate whether a cluster of wrongful acts might be collectively reducible to a single transaction, episode, scheme, or series of occurrences. Typically, courts do so by undertaking a multifactor inquiry into the defendant’s entire course of conduct. Rather than examining every single action in isolation, courts approach the defendant’s conduct from a more holistic perspective. And this framework, subject to a few notable modifications, could be brought to bear on modern copyright law.

Ultimately, this Article seeks to chart a new horizon for copyright remedies. What distinguishes the proposed approach from previous proposals is that it takes seriously the core issue: per-work remedies that allow courts and juries to aggregate damages. After decades of faint-hearted debates, policymakers ought to try something different. If left unabated, copyright’s remedial system will continue to provoke all manner of mischief. It is time to rethink per-work damages in toto.

The argument proceeds in four parts. Part I discusses two of the most contestable aspects of our current system. The first problem is that infringement is principally understood to be a strict liability tort.23See infra Section I.A. In other words, liability for copyright infringement does not depend on the infringer’s intent, knowledge, or negligence. Accidental infringement, then, is a very real possibility. The second problem is that copyright owners can elect to recover a separate award of statutory damages for every infringed work.24See infra Section I.B. Because these awards can range anywhere from $200 to $150,000 per work, there is much at stake.

And when one considers the caselaw, the picture grows darker still. Part II delivers a diagnosis of the central issues surrounding the law of statutory damages. First, courts often disagree over the appropriate justification for statutory damages.25See infra Section II.A. They vacillate between compensatory, punitive, and deterrence-based rationales, and rarely offer anything more than a threadbare explanation for why one justification is preferable to another. Second, copyright’s remedial scheme tends to produce unpredictable or otherwise arbitrary outcomes.26See infra Section II.B. Third, statutory damages can lead to grossly excessive awards.27See infra Section II.C. Due to per-work aggregation, statutory awards can swell up in any case involving more than a single work. Fourth, this per-work structure can discourage courts from properly developing copyright law.28See infra Section II.D. Because statutory damages attach to infringed works rather than infringed rights, courts have little incentive to systematically address or unpack certain rights. The result is an impoverished body of law.

Part III outlines an alternative framework for assessing damages. It begins by surveying previous reform proposals.29See infra Section III.A. It next catalogs a range of doctrinal analogues borrowed from other legal disciplines, including criminal law, civil procedure, and immigration law.30See infra Section III.B. Based on this cross-disciplinary analysis, I then chalk out a more granular account of how courts might go about identifying infringement episodes.31See infra Section III.C. In so doing, I show that the proposed approach can offer a practical blueprint for evaluating the defendant’s conduct in different kinds of cases: file-sharing cases, artistic appropriation cases, and commercial infringement cases.

Part IV considers and rejects a number of potential objections. I defend my use of doctrinal analogues; clarify the scope of this framework by explaining what it can—and cannot—do; and examine how my proposal might ensure that plaintiffs are compensated for the harms they suffered.32See infra Part IV. A brief conclusion follows.

I.  A TALE OF TWO WOES

Copyright law suffuses our world. An incredible constellation of seemingly mundane activities—emailing, posting photos and videos on social media, texting, and even sharing memes—can give rise to claims of copyright infringement.33Shani Shisha, The Folklore of Copyright Procedure, 36 Harv. J.L. & Tech. 61, 62 (2023). The result is that copyright “pervades our cultural universe.”34Id. It has come to “dominate vast swaths of everyday life.”35Id. As one commentator put it, copyright law “touches everyone and everything.”36Jessica Litman, The Exclusive Right To Read, 13 Cardozo Arts & Ent. L.J. 29, 34 (1994).

This Section discusses two of the main features that render modern copyright law so permissive. The first is the fundamental nature of our system as a strict liability regime. The second is a unique remedial framework that entitles copyright owners to recover statutory damages without proof of actual harm. These two features strike at the heart of a formidable regime that has grown precariously overbroad. The risk of accidental infringement, coupled with the attendant threat of exorbitant damages, is all but inescapable. Copyright law is a slumbering giant.

A.  Strict Liability

In the traditional telling, ours is a strict liability regime. Courts routinely treat copyright infringement as a strict liability tort.37See, e.g., Educ. Testing Serv. v. Simon, 95 F. Supp. 2d 1081, 1087 (C.D. Cal. 1999) (“There is no need to prove anything about a defendant’s mental state to establish copyright infringement; it is a strict liability tort.”); Atl. Recording Corp. v. Spinrilla, LLC, 506 F. Supp. 3d 1294, 1315 (N.D. Ga. 2020) (noting that “the Copyright Act is a strict liability statute”); King Recs., Inc. v. Bennett, 438 F. Supp. 2d 812, 852 (M.D. Tenn. 2006) (“[A] general claim for copyright infringement is fundamentally one founded on strict liability.” (quoting Bridgeport Music, Inc. v. 11C Music, 154 F. Supp. 2d 1330, 1335 (M.D. Tenn. 2001))); EMI Christian Music Grp., Inc. v. MP3tunes, LLC, 844 F.3d 79, 89 (2d Cir. 2016) (“Copyright infringement is a strict liability offense in the sense that a plaintiff is not required to prove unlawful intent or culpability.”); Shapiro, Bernstein & Co. v. H.L. Green Co., 316 F.2d 304, 308 (2d Cir. 1963) (explaining that “[w]hile there have been some complaints concerning the harshness of the principle of strict liability in copyright law . . . courts have consistently refused to honor the defense of absence of knowledge or intention”); Toksvig v. Bruce Publ’g Co., 181 F.2d 664, 666 (7th Cir. 1950) (“Intention is immaterial if infringement appears.”); Fitzgerald Publ’g Co. v. Baylor Publ’g Co., 807 F.2d 1110, 1113 (2d Cir. 1986) (“[I]ntent or knowledge is not an element of infringement.”); Gener-Villar v. Adcom Grp., Inc., 509 F. Supp. 2d 117, 124 (D.P.R. 2007) (“One must first take notice that the Copyright Act is a strict liability regime under which any infringer, whether innocent or intentional, is liable.”); Millennium Funding, Inc. v. Priv. Internet Access, Inc., No. 21-cv-01261, 2022 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 187487, at *40 (D. Colo. Oct. 13, 2022) (“Indeed, copyright infringement is a strict liability tort.”); Faulkner v. Nat’l Geographic Soc’y, 576 F. Supp. 2d 609, 613 (S.D.N.Y. 2008) (“Copyright infringement is a strict liability wrong in the sense that a plaintiff need not prove wrongful intent or culpability in order to prevail.”). Scholars take a similar view.38See, e.g., Jacqueline D. Lipton, Cyberspace, Exceptionalism, and Innocent Copyright Infringement, 13 Vand. J. Ent. & Tech. L. 767, 768 (2011) (“Historically, copyright infringement claims have been litigated on a strict liability basis.”); Kent Sinclair, Jr., Liability for Copyright Infringement–Handling Innocence in a Strict-Liability Context, 58 Calif. L. Rev. 940, 944 (1970) (“The rule is well established in copyright law that lack of intention to infringe is not a defense to an action for infringement.”); Oren Bracha & Patrick R. Goold, Copyright Accidents, 96 B.U. L. Rev. 1025, 1028 (2016) [hereinafter Bracha & Goold, Copyright Accidents] (“Copyright law has so far responded to accidents through a rule of strict liability. It does not matter how much care you take to prevent the accidental infringement; if you end up transgressing upon copyright entitlements, you will be held liable.” (footnote omitted)); Patrick R. Goold, Moral Reflections on Strict Liability in Copyright, 44 Colum. J.L. & Arts 123, 125 (2021) [hereinafter Goold, Moral Reflections] (“Copyright infringement is a strict liability tort: Liability attaches when someone infringes the right, regardless of how carefully the defendant tried to prevent any legal wrongdoing.”); Apostolos G. Chronopoulos, Strict Liability and Negligence in Copyright Law: Fair Use as Regulation of Activity Levels, 97 Neb. L. Rev. 384, 386 (2018) (“Copyright infringement is considered to be a strict liability tort.”). It is easy enough to understand why. Copyright liability, after all, does not depend on the infringer’s knowledge, negligence, or intent.39As Dane Ciolino and Erin Donelon put it, liability for copyright infringement can arise even absent “scienter, intent, knowledge, negligence, or similar culpable mental state. On the contrary, liability for civil copyright infringement is strict.” Dane S. Ciolino & Erin A. Donelon, Questioning Strict Liability in Copyright, 54 Rutgers L. Rev. 351, 356 (2002). It is simply irrelevant whether the infringer knew that their actions constituted copyright infringement. Liability is not conditioned upon any kind of fault. To establish a prima facie case, the copyright owner need not make a showing of knowledge or negligence on the part of the defendant. Copyright infringement, in short, is a strict liability tort.

But why is that so? One standard answer is that copyright is a form of property entitlement, and violations of property rights ought to be punishable regardless of the transgressor’s fault.40Bracha & Goold, Copyright Accidents, supra note 38, at 1028; Sinclair, supra note 38, at 945 (emphasizing that the concept of “absolute liability” in copyright law tracks the idea that “literary works . . . must be afforded legal protection to the same extent as his real or personal property” (footnote omitted)); Lipton, supra note 38, at 769–70. Another explanation is that the defendant should face absolute liability because they are better positioned to avoid loss, at least as compared to the copyright owner.41Lipton, supra note 38, at 770; 4 Melville B. Nimmer & David Nimmer, Nimmer on Copyright § 13.08 (2023). The idea is that “as between owners and infringers, it is more efficient for infringers to bear the costs of infringement.”42Ciolino & Donelon, supra note 39, at 376 (citing Eaton S. Drone, A Treatise on the Law of Property in Intellectual Productions in Great Britain and the United States 403 (Rothman Reprints 1972)). Yet another familiar theme is that a strict liability standard serves an evidentiary function: it relieves plaintiffs of the burden of proving the infringer’s state of mind.43Lipton, supra note 38, at 770–71.

To understand how our strict liability system came to be, it is critical to consider its historical genesis. As others have noted, Judge Learned Hand first laid the foundations for a strict liability regime in a spate of early-twentieth-century decisions dealing with copyright infringement.44E.g., Goold     , Moral Reflections, supra note 38, at 125. In these cases, Judge Hand dismissed the defendants’ claims of ignorance on the theory that the copyrights at issue were registered with the Copyright Office: the defendants, Judge Hand suggested, were on notice as to the existence of the copyright.45See, e.g., Stern v. Jerome H. Remick & Co., 175 F. 282, 282–83 (C.C.S.D.N.Y. 1910) (noting that the defendant “had means of knowledge from the copyright office that the [work] had been in fact copyrighted; and he, like anyone else, took his chances when he published the song without any inquiry”). At the time these decisions were issued, copyright registration was mandatory.46See Shisha, supra note 33, at 70–71; Act of May 31, 1790, ch. 15, § 3, 1 Stat. 124, 124 (amended 1831) (mandating registration with the clerk’s office at the author’s local district court); Act of June 30, 1834, ch. 157, § 1, 4 Stat. 728, 728 (requiring that copyright owners record “deeds or instruments in writing” for the transfer or assignment of copyrights). Failure to register the rights would lead to copyright forfeiture.47Shisha, supra note 33, at 68 (“When an author failed to register the work, deposit copies, append a notice to published copies, or give public notice in a newspaper, she would forfeit her copyright.” (footnote omitted)). Because the infringed works were registered, Judge Hand could reasonably surmise that the defendants had proper notice of the status of the works they had copied.

Thus, a strict liability regime was defensible on more functional grounds. It arose at a time when copyright registration was mandatory. Registration provided notice of a work’s legal status. And copyright protection was also conditioned on an additional notice affixed to copies of the work—every published copy had to include a notice specifying who the copyright owner was and when the copyright was registered.48See id. at 70–71; Act of Apr. 29, 1802, ch. 36, § 1, 2 Stat. 171, 171 (requiring that copyright owners “give information by causing the copy of the record . . . to be inserted at full length in the title-page or in the page immediately following the title of every such book or books”); Act of Mar. 4, 1909, ch. 320, § 12, 35 Stat. 1075, 1078 (amended 1976) (conditioning copyright protection upon “publication of the work with the notice of copyright”).

But these formalities were eliminated or rendered optional in the late twentieth century.49For a discussion of copyright formalities, see Shisha, supra note 33, at 70–76 (noting that registration is no longer a precondition to copyright protection, while the notice requirement has been jettisoned altogether). Consequently, under our current system, it has become increasingly difficult to track down and identify the owners of certain works.50Olive Huang, U.S. Copyright Office Orphan Works Inquiry: Finding Homes for the Orphans, 21 Berkeley Tech. L.J. 265, 265 (2006) (“[O]wnership information for a copyrighted work is sometimes hard to find, and tracking down the owner to ask permission presents daunting challenges for potential users.”). Copyright protection today vests automatically—authors need not take any affirmative steps to register their rights or apply for copyright protection.51Indeed, “[c]opyright attaches to an original work of authorship the moment it is fixed in some tangible form. Authors need not take any affirmative steps to claim copyright protection; original works are protected by default. Modern copyright law is thus a system of unconditional protection—one in which copyright vests automatically.” See Shisha, supra note 33, at 62–63. This complicates matters. Because copyrights vest automatically but are not registered, the risk of accidental infringement has grown measurably. It is indeed harder to justify a strict liability regime in a world where the risk of accidental infringement is so high.

Meanwhile, copyright’s strict liability regime has been the subject of sustained scholarly attention. A strict liability regime, scholars contend, is no longer workable. By increasing the likelihood that inadvertent infringers face liability, a strict liability scheme threatens to disproportionately expand the scope of copyright entitlements. Dane Ciolino and Erin Donelon, for instance, argue that strict liability frustrates the very objectives underlying our copyright system—it overprotects preexisting works, thus decreasing accessibility and preventing future authors from engaging with and building on existing works.52Ciolino & Donelon, supra note 39, at 410–15. Patrick Goold rails against copyright’s strict liability regime on moral grounds. Quite apart from any of the practical consequences that might attend a strict liability system, Goold explains that liability for accidental infringement is morally unjust—it is simply unfair to impose liability on a defendant who did everything they reasonably could to avoid infringement.53Goold, Moral Reflections, supra note 38, at 126 (“My question is not whether strict liability fails to properly deter accidents or inhibits creativity (which it does), but more simply, whether strict liability is fair. I make an argument that strict liability is not fair because it results in copyright users being held liable for accidents for which they are not morally responsible.”). Avihay Dorfman and Asaf Jacob claim that strict liability makes little sense in a system focused on intangible goods—among other problems, intangible goods are difficult to define and their legal status is often uncertain.54Avihay Dorfman & Assaf Jacob, Copyright as Tort, 12 Theoretical Inquiries L. 59, 87–96 (2011). Finally, Jacqueline Lipton asserts that strict liability aligns poorly with the realities of the digital era.55Lipton, supra note 38, at 808–09. In a world where technology allows for the mechanical, accidental, and often involuntary copying of works, strict liability is inappropriate.56Id. at 784–801.

In 2012, Shyamkrishna Balganesh offered a more systematic account of copyright infringement.57Shyamkrishna Balganesh, The Obligatory Structure of Copyright Law: Unbundling the Wrong of Copying, 125 Harv. L. Rev. 1664, 1682 (2012). As Balganesh points out, the basic structure of the infringement action does not require proof of harm. To make a prima facie case of copyright infringement, the plaintiff must prove (1) ownership of a valid copyright in the work and (2) infringement of one of the plaintiff’s rights, requiring both copying-in-fact and improper appropriation.58See Feist Publ’ns, Inc. v. Rural Tel. Serv. Co., 499 U.S. 340, 361 (1991); see also Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 41, § 13D.02.

The question of harm is curiously absent from this basic scheme. As Balganesh notes, it is only later in the process, when confronting the question of fair use, that the issue of harm comes into play. Fair use is copyright’s most important defense to claims of infringement.59Abraham Bell & Gideon Parchomovsky, Propertizing Fair Use, 107 Va. L. Rev. 1255, 1257 (2021) (describing fair use as “the most significant and most capacious defense against copyright infringement”). In determining whether the defendant’s copying qualifies as fair use, courts consider a range of statutory factors, including the question of “market harm”—the “effect of the use upon the potential market” for the copyrighted work.6017 U.S.C. § 107. So although harm is not an element of the infringement tort, it surfaces as part of the fair use inquiry. The issue of harm, then, is baked into the defense stage. Nevertheless, although the question of harm is central to the fair use analysis, the larger point remains: our copyright system is essentially a no-fault regime, one in which it “makes little difference for liability whether the copying was intentional, negligent, or a genuine mistake.”61Balganesh, supra note 57, at 1682.

Others, though, question whether our system is truly a strict liability regime. In a series of articles published over the past few years, Goold articulated an intricate account calling into question the conventional view that copyright is best conceptualized as a strict liability regime.62See generally Patrick R. Goold, Is Copyright Infringement a Strict Liability Tort?, 30 Berkeley Tech. L.J. 305 (2015) [hereinafter Goold, Copyright Infringement] (suggesting that copyright is best conceptualized as a fault-based regime); Bracha & Goold, Copyright Accidents, supra note 38 (questioning whether strict liability is the appropriate liability standard for copyright accidents and considering a range of potential alternatives); Goold, Moral Reflections, supra note 38 (asserting that copyright’s strict liability standard is morally unfair because it leads to copyright liability for accidents for which defendants are not morally responsible). Goold posits that the infringement tort does, in fact, accommodate a fault element. This element, however, has gone largely unnoticed thanks to copyright’s messy structure.63Goold, Copyright Infringement, supra note 62, at 338. The fair use principle is again central to the story: Goold suggests that the fairness standard reflected in the fair use inquiry is a kind of fault standard, somewhat analogous to the reasonableness standard undergirding negligence law.64Id. at 340–50. As a result, the fair use inquiry has a dual role—establishing whether the proscribed conduct (copying) was harmful and, in addition, whether the copying was wrongful. Id. at 338. In Goold’s formulation, copyright liability is not conditioned on the infringer’s state of mind, but rather depends upon the infringer’s failure to satisfy a standard of conduct. Id. at 340. For liability to arise, it is not enough that the defendant created a substantially similar work—“the copying must also be unfair.” Id.

But whatever one makes of Goold’s analysis, it is not at all clear that the fair use defense can meaningfully relax the no-harm regime that lies at the heart of copyright’s prima facie case. For many would-be infringers, the fair use defense is no silver bullet. The fundamental problem with fair use is that it relies on an ex-post analysis of four factors.65Shani Shisha, The Copyright Wasteland, 47 BYU L. Rev. 1721, 1779 (2022) (“[T]he fair use doctrine rests on a statutory test that is flexible by design: Courts examine whether the defendant’s use is fair on a case-by-case basis against four statutory factors.”); Clark D. Asay, Arielle Sloan & Dean Sobczak, Is Transformative Use Eating the World?, 61 B.C. L. Rev. 905, 917 (2020) (“Fair use is meant to be a flexible standard . . . that courts can adapt to achieve the most just results in any given situation.”). By design, the fair use inquiry is case specific and can only be tested by a court after the fact.66Larry Lessig famously described fair use as “the right to hire a lawyer.” Lawrence Lessig, Free Culture 187 (2004). As Peter Jaszi explains:

The statutory formulation [of fair use] . . . is too vague and open-ended to be relied upon effectively; its real utility is severely limited because fair use claims can be tested only after the fact of use and then only when a creator relying on the doctrine is able to retain legal counsel and willing to expose himself or herself to considerable economic risk in the event that the defense fails.

Peter Jaszi, Copyright, Fair Use and Motion Pictures, 2007 Utah L. Rev. 715, 729 (2007); see also James Gibson, Risk Aversion and Rights Accretion in Intellectual Property Law, 116 Yale L.J. 882, 889 (2007) (“From the ex post perspective of the defendant already embroiled in expensive litigation, an adaptable, equitable defense is useful. But for the prospective defendant wondering whether a given act will prove to be infringing, fair use is too ambiguous to provide much ex ante guidance.”).
To prevail on fair use, the defendant must withstand lengthy and uncertain litigation.67Am. Intell. Prop. L. Ass’n, Report of the Economic Survey 44 (2017) (estimating that the median cost of copyright litigation ranges from $200,000 to $1 million). For that reason, risk-averse defendants would often choose to settle out of court.68Shisha, supra note 33, at 120. With the specter of statutory damages looming in the background, the risks of going to court are too grave. In such circumstances, the safe choice—and perhaps the only sensible one—is to settle.

The idea here is clear: whether the fair use doctrine introduces a fault standard, as Goold claims, is beside the point. For many would-be infringers, the fair use defense never really comes into play. And while it may be true that, as an analytical matter, copyright infringement is best characterized as a fault liability tort, this is largely tangential to the broader argument I advance here—that our current regime is overly burdensome.

B.  Statutory Damages

A successful plaintiff in an infringement action may pursue one of two remedial avenues.6917 U.S.C. §§ 504(a), (c)(1) (“[T]he copyright owner may elect, at any time before final judgment is rendered, to recover, instead of actual damages and profits, an award of statutory damages for all infringements involved in the action, with respect to any one work.”). The first entitles a victorious plaintiff to collect actual damages plus infringement-related profits.70Id. § 504(b). The second relieves a prevailing plaintiff of the burden of establishing actual harm, allowing instead for the recovery of statutory damages.71Id. § 504(c). Ordinarily, a plaintiff may recover statutory damages ranging from $750 to $30,000 for any infringed work.72Id. § 504(c)(1). The number of statutory awards depends on the number of infringed works.73Id. (stating that the plaintiff is entitled to recover a separate award for “all infringements involved in the action, with respect to any one work” (emphasis added)); see also Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 41, § 14.04(E)) (“Where the suit involves infringement of more than one separate and independent work, minimum statutory damages for each work must be awarded. For example, if one defendant has infringed three copyrighted works, the copyright owner is entitled to statutory damages of at least $750 and may be awarded up to $30,000.” (quoting H.R. Rep. No. 94-1476, at 162 (1976))). Each statutory award may be reduced to a sum of no less than $200 per work in cases of innocent infringement,7417 U.S.C. § 504(c)(2). or increased—up to a sum of $150,000 per work—in cases of willful infringement.75Id.

As a practical matter, the Copyright Act offers little guidance on how courts might assess statutory damages.76The Copyright Act is codified in Title 17 of the United States Code. 17 U.S.C. §§ 101–1511. As § 504 (“section 504”) of the copyright statute makes clear, the court is at liberty to adjust the award as it “considers just.”77Id. § 504(c)(1). In practice, in the absence of a jury trial, courts often assess damages by reference to four principal factors: (1) the harm suffered by the plaintiff; (2) the profits collected by the defendant; (3) the infringer’s state of mind, namely, whether the infringement was willful, knowing, or innocent; and, finally, (4) whether either of the parties had violated its contractual obligations.78Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 41, § 14.04(B)(1)(a). More broadly, some courts also attend to the objectives animating our statutory regime. The Second Circuit, for example, often undertakes a more elaborate inquiry into “the deterrent effect on the infringer and third parties,” as well as “the infringer’s cooperation in providing evidence concerning the value of the infringing material” and “the conduct and attitude of the parties.”79Bryant v. Media Right Prods., Inc., 603 F.3d 135, 144 (2d Cir. 2010) (assessing statutory damages under § 504(c)(2)); Pearson Educ., Inc. v. Arora, 717 F. Supp. 2d 374, 380 (S.D.N.Y. 2010), aff’d, 448 F. App’x 163 (2d Cir. 2012) (considering the same factors in assessing statutory damages under § 504(c)(1)).

Moreover, as noted above, the statutory award may be decreased to a sum of no less than $200 per work in cases of innocent infringement.8017 U.S.C § 504(c)(2). In such cases, the defendant bears the burden of proving that they were not aware, and had no reason to believe, that their actions were infringing.81Id. (“In a case where the infringer sustains the burden of proving, and the court finds, that such infringer was not aware and had no reason to believe that his or her acts constituted an infringement of copyright, the court in its discretion may reduce the award of statutory damages to a sum of not less than $200.”). The burden here is twofold: the defendant must establish both that they did not believe their acts constituted infringement and that their belief was reasonable. Whether an award is ultimately reduced, though, remains a discretionary matter, and a court may refuse to do so even in cases involving innocent infringers.82Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 41, § 14.04(B)(2)(a). Finally, it is also important to note that the Copyright Act precludes reliance on the “innocent infringement” defense when a defendant had access to published copies bearing a copyright notice.8317 U.S.C. §§ 401(d), 402(d).

Similarly, in cases of willful infringement, the court may enhance the amount of statutory damages to a sum of “not more than $150,000” per work.84Id. § 504(c)(2). Whether the infringement was “willful” depends on the infringer’s state of mind.85Erickson Prods., Inc. v. Kast, 921 F.3d 822, 833 (9th Cir. 2019) (“A determination of willfulness requires an assessment of a defendant’s state of mind.” (citing Friedman v. Live Nation Merch., Inc., 833 F.3d 1180, 1186 (9th Cir. 2016))); Russell v. Walmart Inc., No. CV 19-5495, 2020 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 252882, at *27–29 (C.D. Cal. Oct. 16, 2020). And although a determination of willfulness can prove somewhat elusive,86Shisha, supra note 65, at 1757 (noting that courts “have done little to narrow down or clearly define ‘willful infringement’ ” (citation omitted)). the prototypical case of willful infringement involves a defendant who knowingly infringed the plaintiff’s rights87See Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 41, § 14.04(B)(3)(a). or otherwise displayed “reckless disregard for, or willful blindness to, the copyright holder’s rights.”8817 U.S.C. § 504(c)(2); see also Unicolors, Inc. v. Urb. Outfitters, Inc., 853 F.3d 980, 991 (9th Cir. 2017); Sony BMG Music Ent. v. Tenenbaum, 660 F.3d 487, 507–08 (1st Cir. 2011); Louis Vuitton Malletier, S.A. v. Akanoc Sols., Inc., 658 F.3d 936, 944 (9th Cir. 2011); Graper v. Mid-Continent Cas. Co., 756 F.3d 388, 394 (5th Cir. 2014); Island Software & Comput. Serv., Inc. v. Microsoft Corp., 413 F.3d 257, 263 (2d. Cir. 2005); Wildlife Express Corp. v. Carol Wright Sales, Inc., 18 F.3d 502, 511–12 (7th Cir. 1994); Yurman Design, Inc. v. PAJ, Inc., 262 F.3d 101, 112 (2d Cir. 2001); Cent. Point Software, Inc. v. Glob. Software & Accessories, Inc., 880 F. Supp. 957, 967 (E.D.N.Y. 1995). The point is that, even absent actual knowledge of infringement, the defendant may be held liable for willful infringement so long as they displayed reckless disregard of the plaintiff’s rights.

One strong indication of reckless disregard is a history of past infringements.89Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 41, § 14.04(B)(3)(a); Lauratex Textile Corp. v. Allton Knitting Mills Inc., 517 F. Supp. 900, 903–04 (S.D.N.Y. 1981). As the Lauratex court emphasized, the defendant had been on the receiving end of

copyright infringement suits brought by converters ten times (including this action) in the last five years. Five of those actions were settled, two are still pending and two resulted in judgments in favor of the plaintiffs. The inference is inescapable that [the defendant] has made a practice of copying the designs of other converters, and that an award of statutory damages is appropriate as a deterrent to further activity of this kind.

 Id. (footnote omitted).
Another piece of evidence probative of willfulness is the infringer’s past record of seeking authorization prior to using other copyrighted works.90Consider, for example, Beastie Boys v. Monster Energy Co., 66 F. Supp. 3d 424 (S.D.N.Y. 2014). The Beastie Boys brought action for copyright infringement against Monster Energy. Id. at 427–28. The Beastie Boys alleged that Monster had used their music in the company’s promotional video. Id. at 428. At trial, Monster chose not to contest the issue of liability, and the trial focused instead on the question of damages. Id. at 432–33. The jury returned a verdict in favor of the plaintiffs, awarding the Beastie Boys $1.2 million in statutory damages based on a finding of willful infringement. Id. at 435. The court upheld the verdict as reasonable, explaining that Monster’s marketing director had previously produced a large number of promotional videos—for which he sought permission in writing. Id. at 442–43. The director had also taken an aggressive stance in guarding against violations of Monster’s own intellectual property in the past. Id. Likewise, Monster failed to craft a policy to regulate its music licensing. Id. Based on these reasons, the court concluded that the jury’s finding of willfulness was well-grounded in the factual record. Id. For a more thorough description of the Beastie Boys case, see Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 41, § 14.04(B)(3)(a). Indeed, a defendant who was previously vigilant in obtaining licenses but failed to do so at a later point may be deemed to have engaged in willful infringement. In addition, the Ninth Circuit has suggested that a jury could find willfulness where a company failed to promulgate any procedures for “establishing or reporting on who holds the rights to the [works] whose use is proposed.”91Friedman v. Live Nation Merch., Inc., 833 F.3d 1180, 1186 (9th Cir. 2016). And a court may likewise draw an inference of willful infringement when the defendant ignores a letter informing them, in concrete terms, of infringement.92See Chi-Boy Music v. Charlie Club, Inc., 930 F.2d 1224, 1227–28 (7th Cir. 1991); N.A.S. Import, Corp. v. Chenson Enters., Inc., 968 F.2d 250, 253 (2d Cir. 1992).

At the same time, a host of countervailing factors might cut against a finding of willfulness. For one thing, when fair use is a close call, some courts insist that it would be inappropriate to infer willfulness even if the defendant is ultimately found liable.93Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 41, § 14.04(B)(3)(a). Take the case of Princeton University Press v. Michigan Document Services, Inc., in which a university press sued a copy shop for selling unauthorized “coursepacks.”94Princeton Univ. Press v. Mich. Document Servs., Inc., 99 F.3d 1381, 1383 (6th Cir. 1996); see also Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 41, § 14.04(B)(3)(a). The court concluded that the defendant’s copying did not constitute fair use95Princeton Univ. Press, 99 F.3d at 1392. but took pains to note that the question was a close one—indeed, there were “forcefully argued dissents” on the issue.96Id. As a consequence, the court declined to determine whether “the defendants’ belief that their copying constituted fair use was so unreasonable as to bespeak willfulness.”97Id.

Courts have also refused to countenance claims of willful infringement when the defendant had a reasonable belief that their actions were legally permissible, even if they had been notified that their use of the work was potentially infringing.98See, e.g., RCA/Ariola Int’l, Inc. v. Thomas & Grayston Co., 845 F.2d 773, 779 (8th Cir. 1988); MJ Int’l, Inc. v. Hwangpo, No. 8:01CV201, 2002 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 11079, at *8 (D. Neb. Mar. 13, 2002). Furthermore, some plaintiffs may struggle to establish claims of willful infringement when the defendant did not consult a lawyer99See, e.g., Henley v. DeVore, 733 F. Supp. 2d 1144, 1165–66 (C.D. Cal. 2010). or when the infringer performed a search of Copyright Office records but could not locate any records for the plaintiff’s work.100See, e.g., U.S. Media Corp. v. Edde Ent., Inc., No. 94 Civ. 4849, 1996 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 13389, at *21–22 (S.D.N.Y. Sept. 12, 1996) (noting that the court lacks evidentiary basis to determine “whether some or all of the defendants—in reliance on a copyright search—acted in the good-faith belief that a lack of copyright registration betokens a lack of statutory protection and whether such a belief, at least with respect to the five films at issue, would have been reasonable”).

In short, a successful plaintiff may choose to recover statutory damages at any point before a final judgment is rendered. Typically, a statutory award can range from $750 to $30,000 for every infringed work.10117 U.S.C. § 504(c)(1). The award may be reduced to a sum of no less than $200 per work in cases of innocent infringement or increased to a sum of no more than $150,000 per work in cases of willful infringement.102Id. § 504(c)(2). The number of statutory works is tied to the number of infringed works and, in some cases, the number of infringers.103Friedman v. Live Nation Merch., Inc., 833 F.3d 1180, 1189–92 (9th Cir. 2016).

This Section draws out two of the central problems ailing our copyright system. The first is that copyright infringement is principally understood to be a strict liability regime. And while this regime is tempered by the flexible fair use standard, it is also true that fair use is mostly irrelevant for a great many defendants—namely, those who might choose to settle out of court. The second major issue confronting our system is that copyright owners can choose to recover a separate award of statutory damages for every implicated work. Since these awards can range anywhere from $200 to $150,000 per work,10417 U.S.C. § 504(c)(1)–(2). vast fortunes hang in the balance.

One might inquire, however, as to the interaction between these two aspects of our copyright system. While the defendant’s state of mind is wholly absent from the liability analysis, it does inform the damages calculus. As this Section makes plain, whether the infringer had real or constructive knowledge that their acts were infringing is key to determining whether they face reduced or increased statutory damages. Therefore, in a sense, these two features of our system—strict liability and statutory damages—work in unison. Theoretically, when liability is imposed on an innocent infringer, courts may choose to reduce the award under the category of innocent infringement (in which case, the award could be as low as $200 per work).105Id. § 504(c)(2). When one mechanism (strict liability) fails, judges can tap into the other (statutory damages) to prevent an unjust outcome—that is, to prevent an inadvertent infringer from facing an excessive award.

There is just one problem: in reality, the law of statutory damages is arbitrary, haphazard, and unpredictable. Part II will explore the law in action. It will show that different courts harbor very different ideas about what might qualify as an appropriate statutory award. Indeed, courts issue wildly divergent awards in factually similar cases. And, worse, courts cannot even agree on what statutory damages are meant to achieve: some believe statutory damages are rooted in a compensatory rationale, while others insist that statutory damages are meant to punish or deter future infringers. The result is a body of caselaw that often seems excessive or unprincipled.

II.  STATUTORY DAMAGES IN ACTION

This Part discusses the principal issues plaguing the law of statutory damages. First, courts often disagree over the appropriate justification for statutory damages, oscillating between compensatory, punitive, and deterrence-based concerns. Second, the caselaw turns out to be unpredictable or otherwise arbitrary—in cases sharing a similar fact pattern, courts mete out divergent awards. In part, this is because various courts employ different multipliers to calculate damages. Third, statutory damages can at times lead to shockingly excessive awards. Because statutory damages are computed on a per-work basis, awards can dramatically rack up in cases that implicate multiple works. Fourth, and perhaps most bafflingly, the per-work structure of statutory damages can produce some unintended consequences: because damages attach to infringed works rather than infringed rights, courts tend to systematically gloss over certain exclusive rights. The net result is an underdeveloped body of law. I take up these issues in turn.

A.  Justifications

In many cases, courts award statutory damages “with little to no attention . . . to their underlying purpose.”106Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1249. Debates about statutory damages tend to home in on three standard justifications. First, some courts believe that statutory damages are grounded in a compensatory-evidentiary justification. The general idea is that copyright owners may struggle to prove actual harm.107Shisha, supra note 65, at 1758–61. Indeed, proponents of statutory damages believe that there is something distinctive about the evidentiary challenges facing copyright plaintiffs.108F.W. Woolworth Co. v. Contemp. Arts, Inc., 344 U.S. 228, 232 (1952) (stressing that “[f]ew bodies of law would be more difficult to reduce to a short and simple formula than that which determines the measure of [damages in copyright cases]”). Imagine, for example, a copyright owner whose work was illegally distributed online and then downloaded by third parties. In such circumstances, a court might struggle to “assess how many of these third-party downloads dislodged actual sales that would have otherwise taken place if the work had been distributed by the plaintiff.”109Shisha, supra note 65, at 1759. In other instances, the information needed to prove actual damages might lie “uniquely within the infringers’ control.”110Clever Covers, Inc. v. Sw. Fla. Storm Def. LLC, 554 F. Supp. 2d 1303, 1311 (M.D. Fla. 2008) (citation omitted).

Given these challenges, the argument goes, statutory damages serve a crucial role in ensuring that rightsholders get compensated for their losses. Without statutory damages, copyright holders would face an all-or-nothing regime; they would not be able to obtain compensation at all if they cannot prove actual loss. On this view, statutory damages are directed at a particular problem—the difficulty of proving actual damages—and should thus seek to account for actual harm. They should approximate, if only imperfectly, “the amount that would be recovered as actual compensation.”111Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1231.

This compensatory justification, simple and intuitive as it may seem, has found favor with many courts.112Courts often cite the compensatory rationale alongside other relevant factors that appear to justify statutory damages. See, e.g., Lauratex Textile Corp. v. Allton Knitting Mills Inc., 517 F. Supp. 900, 903 (S.D.N.Y. 1981); Cable/Home Commc’n Corp. v. Network Prods., Inc., 902 F.2d 829, 850–51 (11th Cir. 1990); Fitzgerald Publ’g Co. v. Baylor Publ’g Co., 670 F. Supp. 1133, 1140 (E.D.N.Y. 1987), aff’d sub nom. Fitzgerald v. Baylor Publ’g, 862 F.2d 304 (2d Cir. 1988); Pret-A-Printee, Ltd. v. Allton Knitting Mills, Inc., No. 81 Civ. 3770, 1982 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 15108, at *9–10 (S.D.N.Y. Sept. 16, 1982); Peter Pan Fabrics, Inc. v. Jobela Fabrics, Inc., 329 F.2d 194, 195–96 (2d Cir. 1964) (discussing the statutory framework predating the 1976 statute); Downs v. Yeshiva World News, LLC, No. 18-CV-0250, 2019 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 17751, at *5 (E.D.N.Y. Feb. 1, 2019); Van Der Zee v. Greenidge, No. 03 CIV. 8659, 2006 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 400, at *3–4 (S.D.N.Y. Jan. 6, 2006); Star’s Edge, Inc. v. Braun (In re Braun), 327 B.R. 447, 450 (Bankr. N.D. Cal. 2005); Warner Bros. Inc. v. Dae Rim Trading, Inc., 877 F.2d 1120, 1126 (2d Cir. 1989). The legislative history, too, seems to indicate that compensatory instincts partly underlie our statutory scheme.113See Staff of H. Comm. on the Judiciary, 87th Cong., Report of the Register of Copyrights on the General Revision of the U.S. Copyright Law 102 (Comm. Print 1961) (noting that “[t]he value of a copyright is, by its nature, difficult to establish, and the loss caused by an infringement is equally hard to determine”); see also Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1231 n.68.

Yet, as Bracha and Syed point out, the evidentiary justification suggests two related principles. First, if our goal is to address the difficulties of proving harm, statutory damages should only be available when evidence of actual harm is unavailable or difficult to obtain. Second, statutory damages should approximate actual harm as best as possible.114Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1232.

The problem, of course, is that neither principle finds support in the caselaw or in the language of the copyright statute. Nowhere does the Copyright Act limit the availability of statutory damages only to circumstances where evidence of actual harm is difficult to recover.115See 17 U.S.C. § 504. To the contrary: the Copyright Act expressly entertains a heightened category of culpability—willful infringement—where damages would be increased beyond a purely compensatory level. 17 U.S.C. § 504(c)(2). If statutory damages were strictly about compensating copyright owners, the Copyright Act would not establish an elaborate scheme based on the infringer’s state of mind. Courts, in turn, treat statutory damages “as a matter of unqualified right.”116Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1232. And statutory awards often seem wholly unmoored from compensatory instincts—courts have developed no rules to cap statutory damages based on an assessment of actual damages. In fact, courts sometimes calculate the proper compensatory sum and then multiply it to arrive at a statutory award that is, by definition, supracompensatory.117Id. at 1232–33; see also 2 Paul Goldstein, Goldstein on Copyright § 14.2.1.1(b) (3d ed. Supp. 2012). As Goldstein explains, when there is no evidence of actual damages, courts often just switch to a different justification, such as a deterrence-based rationale. Id. Indeed, “[i]n cases where the evidence provides few if any clues for approximating actual damages and profits, courts often turn to the underlying rationale for statutory damages—sustaining copyright incentives while deterring infringement.” Id. The compensatory rationale, then, does not quite map onto the caselaw.

Another justification courts occasionally invoke is that statutory damages serve a punitive or retributive role—punishing the infringer for their wrongful conduct.118Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1233–34. Many courts endorse this idea of punishment as a justification for statutory damages.119Energy Intel. Grp., Inc. v. CHS McPherson Refinery, Inc., 300 F. Supp. 3d 1356, 1380 (D. Kan. 2018) (“[A] statutory damages award may properly be ‘wholly punitive’ in nature.”); L.A. News Serv. v. Reuters Television Int’l, Ltd., 149 F.3d 987, 996 (9th Cir. 1998) (citing both compensatory and punitive principles as a justification for statutory damages); Energy Intel. Grp., Inc. v. Kayne Anderson Cap. Advisors, L.P., 948 F.3d 261, 272 (5th Cir. 2020) (noting that “the modern Copyright Act’s statutory damages regime has a significant deterrent and potentially punitive purpose”); Dream Games of Ariz., Inc. v. PC Onsite, 561 F.3d 983, 992 (9th Cir. 2009) (“Statutory damages [have] ‘compensatory and punitive purposes.’ ” (citation omitted)). Many courts recognize that punitive damages are available only for a specific subset of cases—those involving “willful infringement” under section 504(c)(2). See, e.g., On Davis v. Gap, Inc., 246 F.3d 152, 172 (2d Cir. 2001) (“The purpose of punitive damages—to punish and prevent malicious conduct—is generally achieved under the Copyright Act through the provisions of 17 U.S.C. § 504(c)(2).”); Kamakazi Music Corp. v. Robbins Music Corp., 534 F. Supp. 69, 78 (S.D.N.Y. 1982) (“The public policy rationale for punitive damages of punishing and preventing malicious conduct can be properly accounted for in the provisions for increasing a maximum statutory damage award . . . per infringement found to be willful.”); Nintendo of Am., Inc. v. Dragon Pac. Int’l, 40 F.3d 1007, 1011 (9th Cir. 1994) (“[W]hen infringement is willful, the statutory damages award may be designed to penalize the infringer.” (quoting Chi-Boy Music v. Charlie Club, Inc., 930 F.2d 1224, 1228–29 (7th Cir. 1991)). And while judges seldom clarify exactly what they mean in describing statutory damages as “punitive,” the basic idea is simple: it is fair for the wrongdoer to suffer in direct proportion to the wrong they inflicted. The wrongdoer deserves to be punished.

This punitive rationale meshes rather neatly with the language of the Copyright Act. The statute, after all, establishes a tripartite framework to distinguish among different categories of infringement—regular, innocent, and willful—based on the infringer’s mental state.120See supra Section I.B. That is, the infringer’s level of culpability is measured by reference to their state of mind. Correspondingly, the appropriate remedy is adjusted in proportion to the infringer’s degree of culpability—namely, whether they had actual or constructive knowledge that their actions were infringing.

But the larger picture, again, is quite messy. As Bracha and Syed observe, it would be peculiar for our system to enforce a punitive rationale through copyright’s statutory damages scheme.121Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1235–36. That is because our copyright system already classifies certain acts as criminal offenses.12217 U.S.C. § 506. Retribution is widely understood to be the classic justification for criminal sanctions.123Thomas E. Robins, Retribution, the Evolving Standard of Decency, and Methods of Execution: The Inevitable Collision in Eighth Amendment Jurisprudence, 119 Penn St. L. Rev. 885, 889 (2015) (“Since Immanuel Kant’s Philosophy of Law, retribution has been a mainstay of criminal law theory, argued over in classrooms and academic journals for centuries. Retribution remains a fundamental, if controversial, precept of criminal law theory.”). Criminal enforcement is also subject to a host of procedural and substantive safeguards, as well as a heightened burden of persuasion.124Kenneth Mann, Punitive Civil Sanctions: The Middleground Between Criminal and Civil Law, 101 Yale L.J. 1795, 1803–13 (1992) (discussing some of the classic elements, both procedural and substantive, that differentiate criminal from civil law). Accordingly, one might question whether copyright’s scheme of civil remedies should serve any punitive purposes. Why should we impose punitive penalties for conduct that does not meet the heightened standard for criminal culpability under the Copyright Act?

Moreover, the caselaw remains inconsistent and unpredictable. Some courts appear to recognize both compensatory and punitive instincts as proper justifications for statutory damages.125See, e.g., L.A. News Serv. v. Reuters Television Int’l, Ltd., 149 F.3d 987, 996 (9th Cir. 1998); Energy Intel. Grp., Inc. v. Kayne Anderson Cap. Advisors, L.P., 948 F.3d 261, 272 (5th Cir. 2020); Dream Games of Ariz., Inc. v. PC Onsite, 561 F.3d 983, 992 (9th Cir. 2009). Others embrace a more constricted view, insisting that punitive damages should be available only in cases of willful infringement.126See, e.g., On Davis v. Gap, Inc., 246 F.3d 152, 172 (2d Cir. 2001); Kamakazi Music Corp. v. Robbins Music Corp., 534 F. Supp. 69, 78 (S.D.N.Y. 1982); Nintendo of Am., Inc. v. Dragon Pac. Int’l, 40 F.3d 1007, 1011 (9th Cir. 1994)). And sometimes courts dismiss the punitive rationale altogether, implying that statutory damages that extend beyond the purely compensatory level reflect an impermissible “windfall” for the plaintiff.127See, e.g., Desire, LLC v. Manna Textiles, Inc., 986 F.3d 1253, 1271 (9th Cir. 2021) (“ ‘Statutory damages are intended as a substitute for profits or actual damage’ . . . and should not provide copyright owners a windfall.” (citation omitted)); Atari Interactive, Inc. v. Redbubble, Inc., 546 F. Supp. 3d 883, 888 (N.D. Cal. 2021) (“A statutory damages award ‘must bear a plausible relationship to Plaintiff’s actual damages,’ . . . and ‘should not provide copyright owners a windfall.’ ” (citations omitted)); Peer Int’l Corp. v. Luna Recs., Inc., 887 F. Supp. 560, 569 (S.D.N.Y. 1995) (“Statutory damages are not intended to provide a plaintiff with a windfall recovery.”); Malibu Media, LLC v. Danford, No. 2:14-cv-511-FtM-38, 2015 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 62022, at *5–7 (M.D. Fla. May 12, 2015); Clever Covers, Inc. v. Sw. Fla. Storm Def., LLC, 554 F. Supp. 2d 1303, 1313 (M.D. Fla. 2008); Countryman Nev., LLC v. Adams, No. 14-cv-491-Orl-18, 2015 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 16612, at *18–20 (M.D. Fla. Jan. 16, 2015). The bottom line is that the courts’ treatment of the punitive rationale is unpredictable or otherwise inconsistent.

A third justification that courts occasionally marshal in support of statutory damages is a more intuitive one: deterrence. Typically paired with the punitive rationale, the need to deter future infringements figures prominently in many cases discussing statutory damages,128See, e.g., Warner Bros. Ent., Inc. v. Carsagno, No. 06-CV-2676, 2007 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 104335, at *4 (E.D.N.Y. May 9, 2007) (report and recommendation of magistrate judge) (“Within these parameters, courts have broad discretion in setting an amount of statutory damages that effectuates the ‘dual purposes of the Copyright Act—compensation of copyright owners and deterrence of potential infringers.’ ” (citation omitted)), adopted by No. 06-CV-2676, 2007 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 40293 (E.D.N.Y. June 4, 2007); Manno v. Tenn. Prod. Ctr., Inc., 657 F. Supp. 2d 425, 433 (S.D.N.Y. 2009) (explaining that, in setting a statutory award, courts consider “the deterrent effect on others besides the defendant” (citation omitted)); Lowry’s Reps., Inc. v. Legg Mason, Inc., 302 F. Supp. 2d 455, 461 (D. Md. 2004) (“Statutory damages have a deterrent component.”); Broad. Music, Inc. v. George Moore Enters., Inc., 184 F. Supp. 3d 166, 171 (W.D. Pa. 2016) (emphasizing that statutory damages are meant to “deter future infringements by punishing the defendant for its actions” (citation omitted)); EMI Mills Music, Inc. v. Empress Hotel, Inc., 470 F. Supp. 2d 67, 75 (D.P.R. 2006) (“[C]ourts should formulate a damage award that will achieve the deterrent purposes served by the statutory damages provision.”). as well as jury instructions.129See, e.g., Comm. on Pattern Civil Jury Instructions of the Seventh Cir., Federal Civil Jury Instructions of the Seventh Circuit § 12.8.4 (2017) (listing “deterrence of future infringement” as a factor relevant to determining the appropriate amount of statutory damages); see also Ninth Cir. Jury Instruction Comm., Manual of Model Civil Jury Instructions for the District Courts of the Ninth Circuit § 17.35 (2021). The Manual of Model Jury Instructions for the Ninth Circuit notes that “statutory damages serve both compensatory and punitive purposes,” and then cites favorably to the Supreme Court’s decision in F.W. Woolworth Co. v. Contemporary Arts, which expressly endorsed the idea of discouraging infringement as a justification for statutory damages. Id. at § 17.35 cmt. (citing F.W. Woolworth Co. v. Contemporary Arts, Inc., 334 U.S. 228, 233 (1952)). The corollary is that statutory damages, justified by the need for deterrence, should reflect a supracompensatory penalty.130Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1236.

Yet doubts abound here as well. First, the idea of deterrence, if taken to reflect a broad justification for statutory damages, tends to fit poorly with our statutory scheme. It is not clear why we would think deterrence appropriate in cases involving innocent infringers. When a case implicates accidental infringement—for example, a defendant who had no reason to believe that their acts were infringing—the concept of deterrence seems irrelevant. As Bracha and Syed ask, “Why would we want to deter people from engaging in reasonable behavior?”131Id. at 1237.

And even in cases of willful infringement, it is doubtful whether the deterrence rationale is necessarily appropriate. If statutory damages are truly about deterring individuals from engaging in wrongful conduct, it should not matter what their mental state is, be it willfulness, reckless disregard, or even malice. If we aim to discourage infringements, it should not matter whether the infringer held a particular mental state.

Second, courts and commentators rarely offer anything more than a bare-bones explanation for why one might think deterrence is even warranted.132See, e.g., Broad. Music, Inc., 184 F. Supp. 3d at 171. Is there any evidence to support the proposition that purely compensatory penalties cannot deter would-be infringers? What is the appropriate level of deterrence? And why should we want to achieve a level of deterrence that goes beyond what is already produced by compensatory damages? As Depoorter has explained, the most colorable justification for supracompensatory damages—and one that courts regularly skirt—is that there is a strong need for deterrence given the substantial costs of detecting and enforcing infringement.133See Depoorter, supra note 15, at 435–36 (observing that courts ignore the economic rationale of supracompensatory damages). Drawing on Depoorter’s articulation of the deterrence theory, Bracha and Syed have offered a more fully synthetized account of the optimal deterrence justification. Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1238–40. The optimal level of deterrence, then, would depend on enforcement costs.

Third, as with the other justifications sketched above, the jurisprudence governing statutory damages has been unpredictable. Courts tend to vacillate between the standard justifications for statutory damages. While some adopt both punitive and deterrence-based rationales,134See cases cited supra note 125. others are perfectly content to focus exclusively on compensatory impulses.135See cases cited supra note 127.

In sum, all three justifications for statutory damages are under siege from different directions. The caselaw is muddled and the statute is underspecified. Courts have struggled to articulate a proper justification for statutory damages and have largely failed to clarify why one justification is preferable to another. The jurisprudence thus boils down to a hodgepodge of conflicting and alternating views on what might qualify as a valid rationale for copyright’s robust scheme of statutory damages.

B.  Predictability and Consistency

This much is clear: the caselaw is not a model of clarity. Critics have long criticized the law of statutory damages as indeterminate or otherwise arbitrary.136See Samuelson & Wheatland, supra note 3, at 480–91 (describing a host of pathologies that render the caselaw inconsistent and unpredictable); Shisha, supra note 65, at 1763 (explaining that “critics have long argued that the caselaw surrounding statutory damages is inconsistent, murky, and sometimes arbitrary”); Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1249 (lamenting the “discretionary, inconsistent, and largely arbitrary awards” that pervade the caselaw). The problem is that courts appear to have only a rudimentary understanding of copyright’s remedial scheme, and they rarely attempt to apply the law in a manner that is consistent and predictable.

Begin with one of the central challenges in assessing damages: the use of multipliers. In calibrating statutory awards, courts and juries often use a simple, two-step formula. First, they identify the plaintiff’s actual loss—say, the licensing fee the plaintiff would have charged if their rights had not been infringed. Second, courts apply a multiplier to the amount identified in the first step. For example, if the lost fee was $5,000 and the court elected to use a multiplier of three, the final award would be $15,000 ($5,000 x 3).

Yet courts have done little to generate any sense of consistency in the application of multipliers. Cases among and within circuits reveal large discrepancies. For example, in R.A. Guthrie Co., Inc. v. Boparai, the court rejected the plaintiff’s argument that a multiplier of five would be appropriate.137R.A. Guthrie Co., Inc. v. Boparai, No. 4:18-cv-080, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 61507, at *33–36 (E.D. Tex. Mar. 1, 2021) (report and recommendation of magistrate judge), adopted by No. 4:18-cv-080, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 61506 (E.D. Tex. Mar. 25, 2021). Instead, the court identified a standard multiplier of two to three,138Id. at *36–37. and then decided to apply a larger multiplier of four to account for the defendant’s willful infringement.139Id. at *43. The court’s determination was based on its “sense of justice.”140Id. The final award totaled $240,000.141Id.

In another case, Strober v. Harris, a district court in Florida applied a multiplier of six.142Strober v. Harris, No. 8:20-cv-2663, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 256001, at *7–8 (M.D. Fla. Nov. 23, 2021). Notably, the multiplier here consisted of two elements: (1) a multiplier of three, designed to account for the defendant’s willful infringement; and (2) a “scarcity multiplier” of two, meant to account for the “unique” and “rare” attributes of the plaintiff’s work.143Id. (citations omitted). After assessing the lost licensing fee at $5,000, the court employed a multiplier of six to arrive at a total award of $30,000 in statutory damages.144Id. at *8.

Similarly, in Sadowski v. Primera Plana NY, the court invoked a more modest multiplier of three, explaining that the plaintiff did not assert that he ever notified the defendant of infringement.145Sadowski v. Primera Plana NY, Inc., No. 18-CV-10072, 2019 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 179897, at *5–6 (S.D.N.Y. Oct. 16, 2019) (report and recommendation of magistrate judge), adopted by No. 18 Civ. 10072, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 239122 (S.D.N.Y. Dec. 14, 2021). Other courts have applied multipliers of two, five, and seven.146Korzeniewski v. Sapa Pho Vietnamese Rest. Inc., No. 17-CV-5721, 2019 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 1901, at *20 (E.D.N.Y. Jan. 3, 2019) (report and recommendation of magistrate judge) (recommending a multiplier of five), adopted by No. 17-CV-05721, 2019 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 10949 (E.D.N.Y. Jan. 23, 2019); Lauratex Textile Corp. v. Allton Knitting Mills, Inc., 519 F. Supp. 730, 733 (S.D.N.Y. 1981) (applying a multiplier of seven times the actual damages for willful infringement). Of course, the practical difference between a multiplier of two and a multiplier of eight could be dramatic, depending on the plaintiff’s actual loss and the number of works at play.

But there is far more nuance to the caselaw. Some courts have suggested that double-digit multipliers—that is, multipliers of ten and above—are grossly excessive and potentially impermissible. Consider Affordable Aerial Photography, Inc. v. Palm Beach Real Estate, in which the court rejected the plaintiff’s request that a multiplier of thirty-six be used for each of its three infringed works.147Affordable Aerial Photography, Inc. v. Palm Beach Real Est., Inc., No. 20-81307-CIV, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 125999, at *2 (S.D. Fla. July 7, 2021). The plaintiff argued for an award of $108,000 in statutory damages, based on an assessment of $1,000 in lost licensing fees for each of the plaintiff’s three works, multiplied by thirty-six ($1,000 x 3 x 36 = $108,000).148Id. After rejecting the proposed multiplier, the court suggested that even a more modest multiplier of 14.4 would “create a windfall for the [p]laintiff.”149Id. at *9.

Or take the case of Markos v. Yacht Charters of Miami.com.150Markos v. Yacht Charters of Miami.com, LLC, No. 19-22284-CV, 2019 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 172148, at * 6–7 (S.D. Fla. Oct. 2, 2019) (report and recommendation of magistrate judge), adopted by No. 19-22284-CIV, 2019 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 231480 (S.D. Fla. Oct. 23, 2019). The plaintiff asked for three separate multipliers to be applied: a scarcity multiplier of three, a “quality . . . factor” multiplier of four, and a “willful [infringer]” multiplier of five, thereby settling on an aggregate multiplier of sixty.151Id. The court was quick to reject the requested multiplier as excessive, opting instead for a multiplier of three.152Id. at * 7–8. Likewise, the court in Stockfood America, Inc. v. Fernando Arcay Special Events Corp. reasoned that a multiplier of twenty was excessive and thus inappropriate.153Stockfood Am., Inc. v. Fernando Arcay Special Events Corp., No. 19-22286-CIV, 2019 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 233056, at *6 (S.D. Fla. Dec. 31, 2019) (report and recommendation of magistrate judge), adopted by No. 19-22286-CIV, 2020 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 153440 (S.D. Fla. Jan. 21, 2020). And a court in another case, Schwabel v. HPT Service, LLC, dismissed a multiplier of fifteen and instead applied a multiplier of three.154Schwabel v. HPT Serv., LLC, No. 3:17-cv-791-J-34, 2018 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 171820, at *8–10 (M.D. Fla. Sept. 6, 2018) (report and recommendation of magistrate judge), adopted by No. 3:17-cv-791-J-34, 2018 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 170804 (M.D. Fla. Oct. 3, 2018).

However, in a long line of cases, courts and juries have applied far larger multipliers—sometimes thousands of times the amount of actual damages. Think, for instance, of a case referenced earlier, Capitol Records, Inc. v. Thomas, in which a record label sued a defendant for illegally downloading twenty-four songs.155Capitol Records, Inc. v. Thomas, 579 F. Supp. 2d 1210, 1212–13 (D. Minn. 2008), vacated sub nom. Capitol Records, Inc. v. Thomas-Rasset 692 F.3d 899 (8th Cir. 2012). The jury ultimately awarded the plaintiff $9,250 per infringed song for a total award of $220,000.156Id. at 1213. This award was particularly jarring given the fact that, as the court emphasized, the plaintiff’s actual loss amounted to $50.157Id. at 1227. The resulting award, therefore, was roughly 4,000 times larger than the sum of the plaintiff’s actual damages.

In another notable case, Zomba Enterprises, Inc. v. Panorama Records, Inc., the court awarded the plaintiff $31,000 per infringed work for an aggregate award of $806,000.158Zomba Enters., Inc. v. Panorama Recs., Inc., 491 F.3d 574, 580 (6th Cir. 2007). The defendant argued that the award was grossly excessive—it was thirty-seven times the plaintiff’s actual damages.159Id. at 586 (arguing that “such a high award of statutory damages . . . renders the district court’s award an ‘excessive fine’ under the Eighth Amendment”). On appeal, the Sixth Circuit upheld the award.160Id. at 586–88. Other courts have variously used multipliers of 10, 20, and 300.161See, e.g., Palmer v. Slaughter, No. 99-899, 2000 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 22118, at *14 (D. Del. July 13, 2000) (applying a multiplier of ten); Wild v. Peterson, No. 2:15-cv-2602, 2016 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 92423, at *11 (E.D. Cal. July 15, 2016) (applying a multiplier of twenty); Samuelson & Wheatland, supra note 3, at 487–88 (discussing Lowry’s Reports, Inc. v. Legg Mason, Inc., 302 F. Supp. 2d 455, 455 (D. Md. 2004), in which the “ratio of punishment to actual harm exceeded 300:1”).

Moreover, as Samuelson and Wheatland explain, inconsistent awards in factually similar cases are “easy to find.”162Samuelson & Wheatland, supra note 3, at 485. Often, a series of cases brought by the same plaintiff (such as a record label) in connection with a set of nearly identical infringing acts can lead to wildly divergent awards.163Id. 485–86. And in many cases—especially ones involving excessive awards rooted in double-digit multipliers—the size of the final award seems inexplicable.164Id. at 480 (describing a number of high-profile cases where “reprehensibility was low because evidence of willfulness was weak, none of the defendants were the kind of egregious or repeat infringer for which the enhanced statutory damage awards were intended, and the ratio of punitive to actual damages was exceptionally high.” (footnote omitted)). Equally troubling is the fact that cases dealing with similar categories of infringing acts sometimes yield markedly inconsistent awards.165Id. at 486–87.

And broader issues persist. Looking at the caselaw, one gets the distinct sense that courts do not have a firm grasp of copyright’s remedial scheme. A few different problems intersect. First, and perhaps most perplexingly, judges sometimes jump straight to the statutory maximum, even when the defendant was not especially culpable and the plaintiff suffered little to no harm.166Id. at 481 (discussing Macklin v. Mueck, No. 00-14092-CIV, 2005 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 18027, at *1–2 (S.D. Fla. Mar. 10, 2005), aff’d, 194 F. App’x 712 (11th Cir. 2006)). Second, and relatedly, Samuelson and Wheatland find that courts often treat the statutory maximum as a starting point and then work backwards from there.167Id. at 483–84. And in one of the cases discussed before, Zomba Enterprises, the court appears to have erroneously assumed that, if the defendant is found to be a willful infringer, the court must award above $30,000 in damages—which would explain why the court issued an oddly specific and otherwise atypical award of precisely $31,000 per work.168Id. at 484.

The picture, in other words, is a profoundly bleak one. Courts dole out inconsistent awards in factually similar cases. They cannot quite agree on the appropriate multiplier range. They do not understand the law’s remedial structure. And, as the previous Section showed, they disagree over the proper justification for statutory damages.

C.  Excessive Awards

The law is not just inconsistent but can also produce outlandish statutory awards that seem entirely divorced from any conception of actual harm or culpability. Partly at fault for this state of affairs is the per-work structure of our remedial system. Even a reasonable award can become excessive thanks to the aggregation requirement: courts and juries are simply compelled to multiply the award by the number of infringed works.

A few examples might prove instructive. Consider again a case discussed throughout this Article, Capitol Records, Inc. v. Thomas.169Capitol Recs., Inc. v. Thomas, 579 F. Supp. 2d 1210 (D. Minn. 2008), vacated sub nom. Capitol Recs., Inc. v. Thomas-Rasset 692 F.3d 899 (8th Cir. 2012). The final award in that case was 4,000 times the sum of the plaintiff’s actual damages.170See supra notes 155–57 and accompanying text. The jury assessed statutory damages of $9,250 per work, although the trial judge observed that the plaintiff’s actual damages—for the 24 works combined—amounted to about $50.171Thomas, 579 F. Supp. 2d at 1213, 1227.

It bears emphasizing, though, that even at the statutory minimum of $750 per work, the total award in Capitol Records, Inc. v. Thomas would have been excessive. Because the case involved 24 infringed works, and because statutory damages are awarded on a per-work basis, the jury would have to issue a minimum aggregate award of no less than $18,000 ($750 x 24).172If the defendant was found to be an innocent infringer, the amount could be reduced further to $200. 17 U.S.C. § 504(c)(2). But it is worth noting that, again, even an award of $200 per work would be excessive as compared to the plaintiff’s actual harm. Because 24 works were at issue, a per-work award of $200 would have resulted in a total award of $4,800, a sum that is 96 times the plaintiff’s actual damages. But recall again that the actual harm suffered by the plaintiff in that case was roughly $50. So even under the statutory minimum, the aggregate award would have been 360 times the plaintiff’s actual damages—an appallingly excessive award by any measure.

Now consider the procedural history of Capitol Records, Inc. v. Thomas. After the jury returned an award of $220,000 against the defendant, the trial judge vacated the judgment and ordered a retrial on the basis of a jury instruction error.173Thomas, 579 F. Supp. 2d at 1226–27. In doing so, the judge also cautioned that Congress did not intend for large statutory awards to be “applied to a party who did not infringe in search of commercial gain.”174Id. at 1227. Remarkably, however, the second trial turned out to be even more controversial: the jury increased the statutory award to $80,000 per work, for a final award of $1.92 million.175Capitol Recs., Inc. v. Thomas-Rasset, 680 F. Supp. 2d 1045, 1050 (D. Minn. 2010), vacated, 692 F.3d 899 (8th Cir. 2012). Following the second trial, the defendant filed a post-trial motion requesting, among other things, that the court reduce the jury award either by way of remittitur or under the Due Process Clause.176Id. at 1049. The court agreed. It lambasted the second award as “simply shocking” and remitted it to a sum of $2,250 per work, for a total award of $54,000.177Id. at 1054–55. As the court stressed,

despite the . . . justifications [for increased damages] and the Court’s deference to the jury’s verdict, $2 million for stealing 24 songs for personal use is simply shocking. No matter how unremorseful Thomas-Rasset may be, assessing a $2 million award against an individual consumer for use of Kazaa is unjust. Even Plaintiffs admit that Thomas-Rasset is unlikely to ever be able to pay such an award.178Id. at 1054.

The record companies then exercised their right to seek a new trial on the question of damages.179Capitol Recs., Inc. v. Thomas-Rasset, 799 F. Supp. 2d 999, 1003 (D. Minn. 2011), vacated, 692 F.3d 899 (8th Cir. 2012). The district court held a third trial, and the jury returned an award of $62,500 per work, yielding a total award of $1.5 million.180Id. Once again, the defendant moved to amend the judgment.181Id. The district court again granted the defendant’s motion and reduced the award to $2,250 per work, leading to a final award of $54,000.182Id. at 1012 (“The Court concludes that a statutory damages award of $2,250—3 times the statutory minimum—per sound recording infringed is the maximum permitted under the due process analysis. As the Court explained . . . there is a broad legal practice of establishing a treble award as the upper limit permitted to address willful or particularly damaging behavior.”). The record companies appealed, and the Eighth Circuit reinstated the first award of $222,000.183Capitol Recs., Inc. v. Thomas-Rasset, 692 F.3d 899, 906 (8th Cir. 2012).

What makes Capitol Records, Inc. v. Thomas particularly egregious is that the case appears to pit a poorly resourced defendant against a group of deep-pocketed plaintiffs that suffered little material harm. But the issues here were further compounded by the aggregation requirement. Since the defendant technically infringed the plaintiffs’ rights in twenty-four individual works, even a minimum statutory award would have been grossly excessive. Given copyright’s per-work structure, the prospect of crippling damages was virtually inescapable.

Another example is Columbia Pictures Television v. Krypton Broadcasting of Birmingham, Inc.184Columbia Pictures Television, Inc. v. Krypton Broad. of Birmingham, Inc., 106 F.3d 284 (9th Cir. 1997), rev’d sub nom. Feltner v. Columbia Pictures Television, Inc., 523 U.S. 340 (1998), remanded sub nom. Columbia Pictures Television, Inc. v. Krypton Broad. of Birmingham, Inc., 259 F.3d 1186 (9th Cir. 2001) (affirming the district court’s summary judgment in favor of the plaintiff in a case involving the unauthorized broadcasting of various television shows). Columbia Pictures sued the owner of several television stations for broadcasting four copyrighted television programs without a license.185Id. at 288–89. The court found for Columbia and entered an award of $20,000 per episode.186Id. at 292. Because the infringed shows consisted of 440 episodes, the court issued a total award of $8.8 million.187Id. at 288. After the Ninth Circuit affirmed the judgment, the Supreme Court reversed and remanded for failure to grant the defendant a jury trial on the issue of damages.188Feltner v. Columbia Pictures Television, Inc., 523 U.S. 340, 340, 355 (1998). After a jury trial was convened, the jury returned a staggering award of $72,000 per infringed episode, for a total award of $31.68 million.189Columbia Pictures Television, Inc. v. Krypton Broad. of Birmingham, Inc., 259 F.3d 1186, 1195 (9th Cir. 2001). Here, too, aggregation proved fatal. Because each episode constituted a separate work, the per-work award had to be multiplied by 440, leading to a final award in excess of $30 million.190Id.

The number of infringed works is often a matter of bitter contestation for that reason precisely. Take, for example, Yellow Pages Photos, Inc. v. Ziplocal, LP.191Yellow Pages Photos, Inc. v. Ziplocal, LP, 795 F.3d 1255 (11th Cir. 2015). Yellow Pages Photos licensed stock photos for the yellow pages industry.192Id. at 1260. It owned a library of thousands of photos that were sorted into themed collections.193Id. Yellow Pages Photos brought action against two companies for infringing its rights in 178 collections that contained 10,411 photos.194Id. at 1262–63. The jury returned an award of $123,000 in statutory damages against one of the defendants.195Id. at 1263. On appeal, the plaintiff argued that the court erred in treating each of its 178 collections, rather than each of its 10,411 photos, as a separate work.196Id. at 1276. The relevant benchmark, the plaintiff asserted, was the number of individual photos, not the number of collections.197Id. As the Eighth Circuit explained, “[b]y taking the position that its 10,411 individual photos are each separate works, [the plaintiff] presumably [sought] to raise the statutory damages award in this case from $123,000 to a minimum of $1.5 million and a potential maximum of $300 million.”198Id. Ultimately, the court rejected the plaintiff’s claims, holding that each collection was an individual work under the Copyright Act.199Id. at 1277–79; see also 17 U.S.C. § 504(c)(1) (mandating that “all the parts of a compilation or derivative work constitute one work”).

Still, this case offers a neat illustration of the broader issues. Although the plaintiff’s claims were eventually rejected, the critical point is that the aggregation requirement presented a serious threat. The scope of the defendants’ potential exposure was startling: depending on how the court might have chosen to count the number of implicated works, the defendants could have faced an award ranging anywhere from $123,000 up to $300 million. Indeed, as this brief discussion demonstrates, our per-work system is broken. Statutory damages can add up quickly and dramatically in cases involving multiple infringed works. And that should give us pause.

D.  The Copyright Wasteland

I have argued elsewhere that per-work statutory damages have another profound yet overlooked consequence: they discourage courts from properly developing copyright law.200See generally Shisha, supra note 65 (arguing that certain copyright entitlements remain doctrinally underdeveloped in part because of copyright’s per-work scheme of statutory damages). Modern copyright law, to be sure, is underdeveloped. Typically, courts focus on one exclusive right—the right to reproduce the copyrighted work—while glossing over all other copyright entitlements.201Id. at 1724. As a result, we do not have a clear sense of what some exclusive rights mean or how they might be applied. Courts have not really grappled with many questions central to the scope of these rights.202Id. at 1732–55.

One example is the exclusive right to distribute the copyrighted work.20317 U.S.C § 106(3) (granting copyright owners the exclusive right “to distribute copies or phonorecords of the copyrighted work to the public by sale or other transfer of ownership, or by rental, lease, or lending”). It is an open question whether the distribution right extends only to “actual dissemination,” namely, to circumstances where copies of the work were offered to and received by members of the public.204Shisha, supra note 65, at 1746–55; Peter S. Menell, In Search of Copyright’s Lost Ark: Interpreting the Right to Distribute in the Internet Age, J. Copyright Soc’y U.S.A., Fall 2011, at 1, 1–2 (2011). Thus, in cases centering on claims of online distribution, it is unclear whether the plaintiff must show that copies of the work were not only uploaded online but also downloaded by third parties. District courts have been somewhat divided on the issue, although most courts now seem increasingly more hospitable to the view that distribution does, in fact, require proof of actual dissemination.205Some courts have relied on the so-called “making available” theory to hold that a third party may infringe the distribution right by merely making the work available to others—say, by uploading the work to a publicly accessible website. See, e.g., Universal City Studios Prods. LLLP v. Bigwood, 441 F. Supp. 2d 185, 190 (D. Me. 2006) (using file-sharing software to upload contents online constitutes unauthorized distribution); Hotaling v. Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, 118 F.3d 199, 203 (4th Cir. 1997) (placing a copy of a work in a publicly accessible index could constitute distribution); UMG Recordings, Inc. v. Hummer Winblad Venture Partners (In re Napster, Inc. Copyright Litig.), 377 F. Supp. 2d 796, 805 (N.D. Cal. 2005) (holding that the distribution right is infringed whenever the defendant merely “offer[s]” to distribute copies of the work); Atl. Recording Corp. v. Anderson, No. H-06-3578, 2008 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 53654, at *20 (S.D. Tex. Mar. 12, 2008) (placing copyrighted works into a shared folder constitutes distribution); Arista Recs. LLC v. Greubel, 453 F. Supp. 2d 961, 969–71 (N.D. Tex. 2006) (holding that it is a violation of the distribution right to make copyrighted works available to others); Malibu Media, LLC v. Dhandapani, No. 3:19-cv-01300-M, 2020 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 194794, at *7 (N.D. Tex. Feb. 12, 2020) (“[D]istribution may also be accomplished through the publication of a copyrighted work that makes it available for others to copy.”).

Other courts, by contrast, reject the making available theory as legally implausible and instead hold that distribution requires actual dissemination. See, e.g., Atlantic Recording Corp. v. Brennan, 534 F. Supp. 2d 278, 282 (D. Conn. 2008) (emphasizing that a violation of the distribution right requires “actual distribution of copies” (citation omitted)); Atlantic Recording Corp. v. Howell, 554 F. Supp. 2d 976, 981 (D. Ariz. 2008) (stating that distribution requires “actual dissemination of either copies of phonorecords.” (citation omitted)); BMG Rights Mgmt. (US) LLC v. Cox Commc’ns, Inc., 149 F. Supp. 3d 634, 670 (E.D. Va. 2015), aff’d in part, rev’d in part, 881 F.3d 293 (4th Cir. 2018); SA Music, LLC v. Amazon.com, Inc., No. 2:20-CV-0579, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 13489, at *6 (W.D. Wash. Jan. 25, 2021) (stating that distribution requires “the transfer (or download) of a file containing the copyrighted work from one computer to another”); EVOX Prods., LLC, v. Verizon Media Inc., No. CV 20-2852, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 151460, at *6 (C.D. Cal. May 5, 2021) (holding that the “making available” theory “fails as a matter of law”); Grecco v. Age Fotostock Am., Inc., No. 21-cv-423, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 192021, at *13 (S.D.N.Y. Oct. 5, 2021) (holding that “an unconsummated offer to distribute does not give rise to liability under Section 106(3)”); Annabooks, LLC v. Issuu, Inc., No. 20-cv-04271, 2020 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 221963, at *10 (N.D. Cal. Sept. 24, 2020) (noting that infringement of the distribution right requires actual dissemination).
But, stunningly, circuit courts have not weighed in on the question.206U.S. Copyright Office, The Making Available Right in the United States: A Report of the Register of Copyrights 22 (2016), https://www.copyright.gov/docs/making_available /making-available-right.pdf [https://perma.cc/ LT3K-AEK7] (noting that “[t]o date, neither the U.S. Supreme Court nor any of the circuit courts has had occasion to directly rule on [the question of actual dissemination]”). Nor has the Supreme Court.207Id.

Why is that the case? The answer is that courts never really have to address the issue. Virtually every copyright infringement case involves claims of unauthorized reproduction.208Shisha, supra note 65, at 1767–69. And once courts establish that the right of reproduction has been infringed, all other rights turn out to be inconsequential. It does not matter how many separate exclusive rights were infringed; a single infringement suffices. That is because statutory damages attach to infringed works rather than infringed rights. So, it is irrelevant whether there is one right at issue or a few separate ones—the result, in terms of the final statutory award, will be the same.209Take, for example, Capitol Recs., Inc. v. Thomas-Rasset, 692 F.3d 899 (8th Cir. 2012). In Thomas-Rasset, the Eighth Circuit declined to tackle the issue of distribution. Id. at 902. In explaining its decision, the court stressed that the question of distribution was simply “unnecessary for the remedies sought or to a freestanding decision on whether [the defendant] violated the law.” Id. Why? Because the defendant was already held liable for making infringing copies of the plaintiffs’ works. Id. There was a clear infringement of the reproduction right, so the court had little incentive to reach the question of distribution. The court therefore refused to address a legal question that was irrelevant to the outcome of the case. As the court explained, it was immaterial in terms of the “remedies sought” whether any other rights, beyond reproduction, had been infringed—the size of the statutory award would have remained the same. Id. The only thing that matters is the number of infringed works, not infringed rights.21017 U.S.C. § 504(c)(1) (providing that a plaintiff may choose to recover “an award of statutory damages for all infringements involved in the action, with respect to any one work”); Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 41, § 14.04(E)(1)(a) (“[Where a suit involves multiple infringed works,] statutory damages for each work must be awarded.” (citing H.R. Rep. No. 94-1476, at 162 (1976))).

In that sense, there is little incentive for courts to properly address copyright’s full suite of exclusive rights. Instead, courts tend to fixate on one exclusive entitlement—the right of reproduction—to the exclusion of all others. And this pathology, again, is an artifact of copyright’s per-work scheme of statutory damages.

III.  TOWARD STRUCTURAL REFORM

The discussion thus far offers a grim perspective. It paints a picture of a system run amok. It demonstrates that copyright’s scheme of statutory damages is troublesome for any number of reasons: it rests on ever-shifting and poorly developed justifications; it is rooted in a body of caselaw that is both arbitrary and inconsistent; it can lead to outlandish awards; and it allows courts to systematically shun certain exclusive rights.

Where does this leave us? I offer here a high-level sketch of one possible solution. In simple terms, I suggest that we disentangle the number of statutory awards from the number of infringed works. Instead, I develop a framework for assessing damages by reference to the concept of infringement episodes. An infringement episode, in a nutshell, is a series of related infringing acts that together make up a single, larger event. When courts identify a single infringement episode, they may choose to issue only a single statutory award—no matter how many individual works are in play. The proposed framework would thus introduce a degree of much-needed flexibility into our system. Rather than engage in a mechanical exercise of counting works, courts and juries would enjoy a significant measure of discretion to assess whether the defendant’s actions are sufficiently interconnected to constitute a single, larger episode.

This Part begins by offering a brief overview of the proposed framework. I explain that previous proposals have not gone far enough in confronting the main problem, and then describe in general terms how an approach rooted in the concept of infringement episodes might work. I next turn to demonstrate that a similar approach, based on a holistic assessment of the defendant’s actions, already exists and is widely employed in the fields of criminal law, civil procedure, and immigration law. I close by cashing out my proposed framework and developing a more fine-grained account of how courts might identify infringement episodes.

A.  Overview

To reiterate, statutory damages are awarded on a per-work basis. And this is a problem for two related reasons. First, copyright’s per-work scheme forces courts to aggregate damages in ways that lead to unpredictable—and often excessive—awards. In cases like Yellow Pages Photos,211Yellow Pages Photos, Inc. v. Ziplocal, LP, 795 F.3d 1255, 1276–82 (11th Cir. 2015). for example, conflicting views on how to measure the number of works could potentially produce earth-shattering consequences. Under the defendants’ count, the statutory minimum was $120,000 to $135,000, and under the plaintiff’s, the

statutory award could have been as high as $1.5 billion.212Id. at 1276. The court cited slightly different figures, noting that the statutory maximum under the plaintiff’s preferred count was approximately $300 million. Id. The reason for that lower figure is that the jury rejected the plaintiff’s claim that the defendants engaged in willful infringement, so the statutory maximum in this case was merely $30,000 per work, instead of the increased maximum of $150,000 per work in cases where claims of willful infringement are still on the table. Id. at 1271–72. A divergence of this scope and intensity is indefensible. Second, as discussed above, per-work damages generate a legal equilibrium in which the number of infringed rights, as opposed to infringed works, is of little practical significance.213See supra Section II.D. And that is why courts tend to glaze over certain exclusive rights. The result is an impoverished body of caselaw.214See supra Section II.D.

Per-work damages, then, have worked considerable harm to the copyright system. And copyright scholars, for their part, have suggested a number of doctrinal or legislative reforms to address the issue. Let us first consider what is arguably the most serious attempt to confront the problem of excessive damages in recent years: Depoorter’s multifaceted proposal for reducing the incidence and availability of excessive awards.215See generally Depoorter, supra note 15. Based on a close analysis of docket records and court decisions, Depoorter finds that “a vast majority of plaintiffs accuse defendants of willful copyright infringement.”216Id. at 428. Indeed, “[t]the sheer number of willful infringement claims is remarkable,” especially when one considers that enhanced damages were originally designed to address only exceptional cases.217Id. Nevertheless, Depoorter also finds that, of all cases where the plaintiff won on the merits, courts awarded increased damages for willful infringement in only 2.8% of cases.218Id. at 429. This glaring mismatch between what plaintiffs allege and what courts find suggests that plaintiffs engage in remedy overclaiming.219Id. at 439–40.

Based on these findings, Depoorter puts forward a number of prescriptive proposals. First, he advances a series of proposals meant to make remedy-overclaiming more costly to opportunistic plaintiffs. One way to do so is to impose sanctions on plaintiffs who make inflated or exaggerated damage claims.220Id. at 441. Under the current statute, a plaintiff seeking statutory damages need not justify their damage claims on the basis of actual harm.221Id.

And attorney cost fee-shifting is only available to the prevailing party,22217 U.S.C. § 505 (directing that “the court may also award a reasonable attorney’s fee to the prevailing party as part of the costs” (emphasis added)). so a defendant who lost but faced an outlandish award claim (which was ultimately rejected by the court) has no effective recourse. Depoorter thus recommends that Congress amend the Copyright Act to allow for fee-shifting in cases in which the plaintiff is ultimately found to have made inflated damage claims, even if the plaintiff prevailed in litigation.223Depoorter, supra note 15, at 442.

Second, Depoorter also presses a few proposals designed to make remedy-overclaiming less risky to defendants. One way to achieve this is by developing a set of guidelines and standards to govern the application and assessment of statutory damages.224Id. at 443. A second useful step would be to simply reduce the statutory range—which currently extends from $750 to $150,000 in most cases.225Id. Yet another helpful measure would seek to increase transparency by forcing courts to explain, in detail, the “motivation and calculation involved with every statutory award,” as well as by establishing a central database to collect statutory award judgments.226Id. at 443–44. Depoorter also suggests that Congress eliminate enhanced damages for willful infringement or otherwise limit their availability only to cases of commercial infringement.227Id. at 444–45. Another possibility is to impose a cap on the size of the total award.228Id. at 445. In addition, Congress should amend section 504(c) “so that statutory damages are not available when the defendant has offered credible evidence of its profits and/or the plaintiff’s damages.”229Id. at 446.

Similarly insightful is recent work by Bracha and Syed.230See Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1249–53. Focusing more keenly on the justification for statutory damages, they propose a few ways to think about the role that statutory damages ought to serve in the copyright system. One possible approach is to conceive of statutory damages as serving a compensatory role.231Id. at 1250. On this view, courts should strive to award statutory damages that approximate actual harm.232Id. Alternatively, courts can frame statutory damages as a means of achieving optimal deterrence.233Id. at 1250–52. But optimal deterrence, at least on its face, would seem to justify imposing very high awards on a small number of defendants in an effort to deter future infringement.234Id. at 1238–40. Thus, an “optimal deterrence” approach would only be defensible to the extent that it is subject to “judicial safeguards against the incurrence of serious inequitable harms.”235Id. at 1251.

Two other reform proposals merit attention. One is a study by Pamela Samuelson and Tara Wheatland.236Samuelson & Wheatland, supra note 3, at 502–04. Drawing on a comprehensive survey of the history and doctrine of statutory damages, Samuelson and Wheatland make two central claims: first, that statutory damages should ordinarily approximate actual damages; and, second, that enhanced damages should be available only in cases involving the sort of willful infringement Congress had originally contemplated—that is, patently outrageous cases implicating mass-infringement or repeat infringers.237Id.

Another proposal, introduced by Garfield, focuses on three different approaches to calibrating statutory damages: interpretive, statutory, and constitutional.238Garfield, supra note 18, at 37–53. On the interpretive front, Garfield embraces the set of proposals articulated by Samuelson and Wheatland—proposals that would compel courts to approximate actual damages in most cases and reserve enhanced damages for nakedly egregious cases.239Id. at 38–39. But Garfield also notes that such an interpretive fix would not necessarily “translate[] into clear signals that potential users . . . can identify and confidently trust.”240Id. at 39. Garfield thus reasons that additional measures are necessary. On the legislative front, Garfield proposes an amendment of section 504 to (1) clarify that statutory damages should be primarily compensatory, (2) limit enhanced damages to exceptional cases, (3) empower courts to adjust the total award below the statutory minimum even in cases involving multiple works, and (4) give courts discretion to reduce the statutory minimum when a user has a strong innocent infringement claim, even if that user had access to works that bore a valid copyright notice.241Id. at 43. Finally, on the constitutional front, Garfield recommends that courts reinvigorate and harness both Due Process and free-speech limits on statutory damages.242Id. at 46–53.

There is much to admire in these proposals. To be sure, copyright scholars have devoted a great deal of energy to crafting proposals that would limit the scope of statutory damages. But none of these proposals go nearly far enough: they all stop short of severing the link between statutory damages and the number of infringed works. To meet the challenge of the moment, I suggest a legislative reform that would do away with copyright’s per-work remedies altogether. A better framework, I argue, would afford courts a significant degree of discretion to look beyond the number of implicated works and instead evaluate whether the defendant’s conduct gave rise to, and was grounded in, a single infringement episode. By infringement episode, I mean a chain of related infringing acts that together constitute a larger factual event. When the defendant’s conduct is attributable to a single infringement episode, courts should issue only a single statutory award, even if multiple infringed works are at stake.

To illustrate, consider Sony BMG Music Entertainment v. Tenenbaum.243Sony BMG Music Ent. v. Tenenbaum, 660 F.3d 487 (1st Cir. 2011) (affirming the denial of the defendant’s motion for a new trial or remittitur after the jury returned an award of $675,000 in statutory damages). A group of record companies brought action against the defendant, Joel Tenenbaum, for downloading and distributing thirty songs.244Id. at 490. The jury found that Tenenbaum had willfully infringed the plaintiffs’ rights and returned an award of $22,500 per infringed song for a total award of $675,000.245Id. The defendant here was accused of having downloaded works en masse. But what if the court were able to treat the defendant’s conduct as reflecting a single infringement episode? And what if, because the defendant’s actions were sufficiently intertwined, the court were able to issue only a single statutory award?

There is reason to think a single award would have been appropriate in cases like Tenenbaum or Thomas.246Capitol Recs., Inc. v. Thomas, 579 F. Supp. 2d 1210 (D. Minn. 2008). The value of the copyrighted works in both cases was negligible, and the harm to the plaintiff was marginal.247See, e.g., id. at 1227 (explaining that the defendant “infringed on the copyrights of 24 songs,” which were roughly equivalent to three CDs costing about $54). In both cases, the defendants were private individuals who pursued a noncommercial objective by downloading songs for private consumption. And in both cases, the aggregation of per-work awards proved fatal. After all, a person of average means may never be able to withstand (or fully recover from) a damages award approaching $700,000.

Now, to be clear, courts today already consider some of these factors in calibrating the size of the per-work award.248See text accompanying supra notes 78–79 (discussing the various factors that courts consider in calculating statutory damages, including the profits generated by the defendant and the harm suffered by the plaintiff). At times, courts also appear eager to accommodate certain distributive concerns—say, when they fear that a crushing award might drive the defendant out of business. See sources cited infra note 338. Yet the larger problem remains: courts are forced to multiply the award by the number of infringed works.249See supra Section II.C. So even if a court determines that the per-work award should be lower because the infringer was not especially culpable, the total award may nonetheless prove disproportionately large after the per-work award has been multiplied by the number of infringed works. Recall that in Tenenbaum, the per-work award itself ($22,500) was arguably quite modest, amounting to less than a fifth of the statutory maximum.250Sony BMG Music Ent. v. Tenenbaum, 660 F.3d 487, 490 (1st Cir. 2011). But after it was multiplied by thirty, the award grew dramatically.251Id. The rub is that even a modest per-work award can grow significantly due to aggregation.

To address the issue, I suggest that Congress amend the Copyright Act to permit courts to break with this per-work scheme in cases where they find, based on a multifactor inquiry, that the defendant’s acts were attributable to a single infringement episode. Looking for sources of inspiration, the next Section will explore how courts have approached analogous questions in different fields. And the third Section will then offer a more detailed explication of the proposed framework, discussing the different factors that courts might consider in evaluating the defendant’s course of conduct.

B.  Doctrinal Analogues

An assessment of the defendant’s conduct, as explained previously, would have to depend upon an open-textured, case-by-case analysis. But would this system be administrable? Are courts well-positioned to engage in this type of multifactor inquiry? Would the proposed framework spawn lengthy and uncertain litigation?

The answer is no. Across a variety of different legal fields—including criminal law, civil procedure, and immigration law—courts have already developed a rash of somewhat equivalent doctrines aimed at evaluating the defendant’s conduct. These doctrines all share a core commitment: they leverage a flexible, multifactor inquiry to assess whether the defendant’s actions can be lumped together as part of a larger transaction, episode, scheme, or series of occurrences. The following discussion will offer a perfunctory and necessarily incomplete overview of such doctrines. These doctrines, though at times controversial, demonstrate that the proposed framework is both plausible and administrable.

1.  Criminal Law

The defendant’s course of conduct features most notably in the doctrine of double jeopardy. The Double Jeopardy Clause of the Fifth Amendment shields a defendant from being “twice put in jeopardy of life or limb” for the same offense.252U.S. Const. amend. V. The goal of the prohibition against double jeopardy is to protect an individual from “being subjected to the hazards of trial and possible conviction more than once for an alleged offense.”253Green v. United States, 355 U.S. 184, 187 (1957). The Supreme Court has interpreted the Double Jeopardy Clause as protecting against a second prosecution for the same offense after either acquittal or conviction.254North Carolina v. Pearce, 395 U.S. 711, 717 (1969). More broadly, the Double Jeopardy Clause has also been understood to preclude multiple punishments for the same offense.255Id. In other words, the central question under the Double Jeopardy Clause is whether the defendant is being punished or tried twice for the same offense.

How do courts define the term “same offense”? Federal courts have long relied on a decades-old test first developed in Blockburger v. United States256Blockburger v. United States, 284 U.S. 299, 304 (1932). to determine whether the defendant is at risk of being tried twice for the same offense. Under the Blockburger test, when the same act violates two separate statutory provisions, the court is charged with examining “whether each provision requires proof of a fact which the other does not.”257Id. In essence, courts seek to ascertain whether one or two offenses are at issue. This same-elements test examines the statutory elements of each offense to determine whether one of the implicated offenses incorporates an element that the other does not. Accordingly, if a single act or transaction leads to multiple offenses—namely, if one offense requires additional proof beyond what is required by the other—the Double Jeopardy Clause does not apply.

Yet, ultimately, whether one is placed twice in jeopardy for the same offense is not just a matter of federal law. Many states also encode a robust protection against double jeopardy, either through constitutional provisions or through state statutes requiring joinder of certain offenses.258Rebecca A. Delfino, Prohibition on Successive Prosecutions for the Same Offense—In Search of the “Goldilocks Zone”: The California Approach to a National Conundrum, 54 Am. Crim. L. Rev. 423, 424 (2017). The following discussion largely tracks, and is principally based on, a recent study by Rebecca Delfino. See generally Delfino, supra. And the picture here is more intricate. Some states, like Michigan, apply the Blockburger test.259The Michigan Supreme Court adopted the Blockburger test in People v. Nutt, 677 N.W.2d 1, 3, 12–13 (Mich. 2004). Other states, like Louisiana, employ a double-pronged test for defining “same offense”: a variation of the Blockburger same-elements test, coupled with an additional same-evidence test.260See, e.g., State v. Miller, 571 So. 2d 603, 606 (La. 1990) (quoting State v. Knowles, 392 So. 2d 651, 654 (La. 1980)). Under the same-evidence test, courts examine whether the evidence necessary to support the second indictment was also sufficient to support a conviction for the first.261Id.

A number of states, however, reject the Blockburger same-elements test in favor of a more flexible test: the same transaction or course of conduct test. Consider, for instance, New Jersey. As the New Jersey Supreme Court has explained, courts should consider several different factors in assessing whether the defendant’s misconduct is part of a single transaction, including whether the offenses are “based on the same conduct or arose out of the same episode.”262State v. Williams, 799 A.2d 470, 474 (N.J. 2002) (quoting State v. Yoskowitz, 563 A.2d 1, 12 (N.J. 1989)). And New Jersey courts, in turn, have applied this “same episode” test by considering a number of additional factors, including:

[T]he nature of the offenses, the time and place of each offense, whether the evidence supporting one charge is necessary and/or sufficient to sustain conviction under another charge, whether one offense is an integral part of the larger scheme, the intent of the accused, and the consequences of the criminal standards transgressed.263Id. at 475–76 (citing State v. Best, 356 A.2d 385 (N.J. 1976)).

Other states similarly consider whether the defendant’s actions are causally related and whether they were temporally close.264A prime example is Florida. See, e.g., Ellis v. State, 622 So. 2d 991, 1000 (Fla. 1993) (“[T]he crimes . . . must be linked in some significant way. This can include the fact that they occurred during a ‘spree’ interrupted by no significant period of respite . . . or the fact that one crime is causally related to the other, even though there may have been a significant lapse of time.” (citations omitted)). Additionally, a 2017 study found that “[t]hirteen states apply no individual test, but rather multiple factors, to prohibit successive prosecutions.”265See Delfino, supra note 258, at 436. These states use some combination of several existing tests—temporal and spatial tests, “same transaction” tests, evidentiary/same-elements tests, and others—to carry out a more open-ended, multifactor inquiry.266Id. at 436–39.

To conclude, different states diverge radically in their approach to protecting against double jeopardy. Nevertheless, a few relevant factors stand out as particularly relevant. Some factors hinge on the defendant’s conduct: the spatial and temporal proximity of the defendant’s acts; whether they fit into a larger episode or transaction; and the nature of the causal relationship between each of them. A second set of factors look at the legal directives that were violated—do these provisions share the same elements and require the same evidence to establish guilt? A third category of factors lean more broadly on the defendant’s intent and the consequences of the defendant’s conduct.

2.  Civil Procedure

The rule of permissive joinder, codified in Rule 20 of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, provides that multiple plaintiffs may join in one action if (1) they assert a right to relief arising out of the “same transaction, occurrence, or series of transactions or occurrences,” and (2) “any question of law or fact common to all plaintiffs will arise in the action.”267Fed. R. Civ. P. 20(a)(1). A similar rule of permissive joinder applies when multiple defendants face actions arising out of a single series of occurrences and involving questions of law and fact common to all defendants.268Fed. R. Civ. P. 20(a)(2). Rule 20 is permissive in that it does not compel joinder even in circumstances that satisfy its requirements.269See Mary Kay Kane, 7 Federal Practice and Procedure (Wright & Miller) § 1652 (3d ed. 2022) [hereinafter Wright & Miller] (“Rule 20(a) is permissive in character; joinder in situations falling within the rule’s standard is not required unless it is within the scope of compulsory joinder prescribed by Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 19.”).

As a general matter, the rule of permissive joinder is applied liberally and flexibly. The Ninth Circuit, for instance, has adopted a liberal approach in an effort “to promote trial convenience and to expedite the final determination of disputes, thereby preventing multiple lawsuits.”270League to Save Lake Tahoe v. Tahoe Reg’l Plan. Agency, 558 F.2d 914, 917 (9th Cir. 1977). And the Supreme Court has clarified that “[u]nder the Rules . . . joinder of claims, parties and remedies is strongly encouraged.”271United Mine Workers of Am. v. Gibbs, 383 U.S. 715, 724 (1966). It is also important to note that joinder is a procedural device and does not affect the substantive rights of the parties.272Wright & Miller, supra note 269, § 1653. Hence, a judgment for or against one party need not lead to a similar outcome for another party in a joined action.273Id.

More concretely, the first requirement under Rule 20—that the disputes arise out of the same series of occurrences—is most relevant for our current purposes. This requirement appeals to an open-ended assessment of the parties’ entire course of conduct. But, consistent with the flexible spirit animating Rule 20, courts have largely balked at developing “one generalized test” for identifying a single transaction or occurrence.274Id. Instead, courts leverage a case-by-case approach to examine whether the events at stake are all logically related and thus constitute a single series of occurrences.275See, e.g., Mosley v. Gen. Motors Corp., 497 F.2d 1330, 1333 (8th Cir. 1974) (“In ascertaining whether a particular factual situation constitutes a single transaction or occurrence for purposes of Rule 20, a case-by-case approach is generally pursued.” (citing Wright & Miller, supra note 269, § 1653)); Almont Ambulatory Surgery Ctr., LLC v. UnitedHealth Grp., Inc., 99 F. Supp. 3d 1110, 1187–88 (C.D. Cal. 2015) (noting that “[t]he transaction and common-question requirements . . . are flexible concepts used by the courts to implement the purpose of Rule 20 and therefore are to be read as broadly as possible whenever doing so is likely to promote judicial economy” (citing Wright & Miller, supra note 269, § 1653)). This logical-relationship test defies any rigid formulation and is flexible by design. Moreover, some courts complement the logical-relationship test with a variation of the evidentiary standard that criminal courts employ under the double jeopardy rule. They do so by asking whether different legal actions would lead to “overlapping proof and duplication in testimony.”276Wright & Miller, supra note 269, § 1653. When such overlap is likely, courts are more inclined to find that the claims arise out of the same transaction or occurrence.

Given the flexible nature of the permissive-joinder inquiry, it is hardly surprising that courts sometimes find that events stretching over many years could nonetheless be sufficiently connected to warrant joinder. One example is Burton v. American Cyanamid.277Burton v. Am. Cyanamid, 128 F. Supp. 3d 1095 (E.D. Wis. 2015) (denying the defendant’s motion to dismiss in part because the plaintiff’s claims were sufficiently connected to warrant joinder). In Burton, the plaintiffs alleged harm as a result of ingesting lead as children, arguing that their injuries over the years constituted a single series of occurrences that resulted from the defendants’ negligence in manufacturing, promoting, and selling lead paint.278Id. at 1098–99. The court agreed and ordered joinder.279Id. at 1103–04. In another case, a federal court ordered joinder of more than 400 defendants in an action involving some 400 separate insurance and retirement plans, finding that the claims, while addressing many different plans and defendants, all arose from the same series of transactions or occurrences.280UnitedHealth Grp., Inc., 99 F. Supp. 3d at 1119. The rules of permissive joinder, in short, rest on a flexible standard and are thus applied somewhat liberally.

3.  Immigration

Questions about the defendant’s course of conduct also crop up under the Immigration and Nationality Act.2818 U.S.C. § 1227(a)(2)(A)(ii) (directing that “[a]ny alien who at any time after admission is convicted of two or more crimes involving moral turpitude, not arising out of a single scheme of criminal misconduct, regardless of whether confined therefor and regardless of whether the convictions were in a single trial, is deportable”). The Act renders an alien deportable if, at any point after admission, they are convicted of two or more crimes of moral turpitude not arising out of a “single scheme of criminal misconduct.”282Id. One of the central questions in this context is whether the alien’s convictions could be characterized as arising out of a single scheme of misconduct. While the statute does not define the phrase “single scheme of . . . misconduct,”283Id. some early authorities have suggested that a variety of factors might play into an analysis of the alien’s conduct, including the time and purpose of the crimes, the methods and procedures used, the identity of the participants, and the identity of the victims.284Wood v. Hoy, 266 F.2d 825, 828–33 (9th Cir. 1959). In Wood, the court suggested that two armed robberies committed three days apart could constitute part of a single scheme. Id. Although the court ultimately remanded the case with instructions to fully address the “single scheme” element, it also explained that the two robberies seemed plausibly connected:

[B]oth crimes were committed by the same four persons, in both crimes money was obtained from the victims by means of force and fear, and the two crimes were committed within three days of each other. [In addition,] . . . two or three weeks before the crimes were committed, the four defendants met and at the suggestion of one of them, the four agreed to participate in the two particular armed robberies.

Id. at 831.

Nonetheless, clouds of uncertainty enshroud the single scheme exception. Some circuit court cases, as well as decisions issued by the Board of Immigration Appeals (“B.I.A.”), take a restrictive approach. They do so by suggesting that, to qualify for the “single scheme” exception, the alien’s crimes must be temporally close.285Balogun v. INS, 31 F.3d 8, 8–9 (1st Cir. 1994). Likewise, the First Circuit has stated that a single scheme “must take place at one time; there must be no substantial interruption that would allow the participant to disassociate himself from his enterprise and reflect on what he has done.”286Id. at 8 (citing Pacheco v. INS, 546 F.2d 448, 451 (1st Cir. 1976)). These authorities come close to equating a “single scheme” with a “single act”—a uniform, “temporally integrated episode of continuous activity.”287Id. at 9 (citing Pacheco, 546 F.2d at 451–52).

Other courts, by contrast, find that separate crimes committed under a preconceived plan—even if the two crimes were days apart—could qualify as a single scheme of misconduct.288Wood, 266 F.2d at 831; Gonzalez-Sandoval v. U.S. INS, 910 F.2d 614, 616 (9th Cir. 1990). These courts suggest that two crimes executed in pursuit of a common plan could constitute a single scheme.289Nason v. INS, 394 F.2d 223, 227 (2d Cir. 1968) (“The word ‘scheme’ implies a specific, more or less articulated and coherent plan or program of future action.”). And while this “common plan” approach has been rejected by the B.I.A. and the First, Fourth, Fifth, Seventh, and Tenth Circuits,290Matter of Adetiba, 20 I. & N. Dec. 506, 508–12 (B.I.A. 1992); Balogun, 31 F.3d at 8–9; Akindemowo v. U.S. INS, 61 F.3d 282, 286–87 (4th Cir. 1995); Iredia v. INS, 981 F.2d 847, 849 (5th Cir. 1993); Abdelqadar v. Gonzales, 413 F.3d 668, 674–75 (7th Cir. 2005); Nguyen v. INS, 991 F.2d 621, 623–25 (10th Cir. 1993). it has been adopted to varying degrees by the Second, Third, and Ninth Circuits.291See, e.g., Gonzalez-Sandoval, 910 F.2d at 616; Nason, 394 F.2d at 226–27; Sawkow v. INS, 314 F.2d 34, 37–38 (3d Cir. 1963); Wood, 266 F.2d at 828–33. As a consequence, there remains a great deal of disagreement and confusion as to the scope of the “single scheme” exception.

* * *

In summary, each of the doctrines canvassed above seems to lend some support to the suggested framework. Each seeks to identify the circumstances under which a series of wrongful actions might give rise to a single transaction, episode, or scheme. And each appears to mobilize a case-by-case approach. Courts applying these doctrines often consider both the specific attributes of the defendant’s actions and the consequences associated with the larger scheme.

At the same time, it would be a mistake to overstate the significance of this cross-disciplinary survey. The preceding discussion does not aim to provide a fully exhaustive synthesis of three discrete bodies of law. Rather, it seeks only to highlight a few rough, high-level sources of inspiration that could bear in some loose sense upon the proposed framework.

C.  Application

Copyright’s per-work scheme has been the source of much anguish. It tends to produce grossly excessive awards, and it discourages courts from properly developing modern copyright law. A better framework, I argue, would empower courts to look beyond the number of infringed works and focus instead on the defendant’s entire course of conduct. When a series of separate infringing acts can be traced to a single, larger infringement episode, courts should be able to issue only a single statutory award—regardless of how many works are at issue.

But how might courts evaluate the defendant’s course of conduct? In what follows, I map out a number of relevant factors that courts should consider, including the spatial and temporal nature of the defendant’s actions; whether the evidence supporting one infringement is necessary or sufficient to sustain liability for another; whether the defendant’s actions were executed in pursuit of a common plan or a larger creative project; and the potential consequences of a statutory award.

These factors operate along three interrelated dimensions: conduct/evidence, intent, and consequences. Some factors focus on the evidence required to distinguish between—or bring together—the defendant’s actions. A second subset of factors look to the defendant’s intent in pursuing these actions. A third subset of factors dwell on the larger consequences of the defendant’s actions.

Let us consider a few illustrative examples. Think, for instance, of Yellow Pages Photos.292Yellow Pages Photos, Inc. v. Ziplocal, LP, 795 F.3d 1255 (11th Cir. 2015) (affirming a judgment in favor of the plaintiffs in an action for copyright infringement). A local phone book publisher, Ziplocal, licensed thousands of photos owned by the plaintiff.293Id. at 1260–61. The licensing agreement authorized Ziplocal to distribute the photos to its users but prohibited the company from transferring the photos to outside companies or nonemployees.294Id. at 1261. A few years later, Ziplocal subcontracted with an outside company to assist with editing the photos and producing a phone book.295Id. at 1262. The plaintiff brought action for infringement, and the jury found Ziplocal liable for infringing the plaintiff’s rights in 123 individual works.296Id. at 1262–63.

The court, though, could have reasonably concluded that the 123 infringed works were all implicated in a single scheme—a commercial effort by the defendant to produce a phone book. Perhaps more crucially, it seems as though both parties understood the defendant’s actions to constitute a single episode. The plaintiff, after all, never identified with any degree of specificity the circumstances under which particular works were infringed.297The plaintiff’s complaint does not address the specific circumstances attending any particular collection of photos that was allegedly transferred from Ziplocal to the outside company. See Third Amended Complaint at 4–11, Yellow Pages Photos, Inc. v. Ziplocal, LP, No. 12-cv-755, 2014 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 87772 (M.D. Fla. June 27, 2014), aff’d, 795 F.3d 1255 (11th Cir. 2015). The plaintiff did not bother to break down the broader episode into smaller, concrete actions that the defendant carried out.

This becomes all the more apparent when the case is assessed against the same-elements/same-evidence question: Is the evidence supporting one infringement necessary or sufficient to sustain liability for another? Again, the answer here is yes. The plaintiff never adduced any evidence to separate one infringing act from another. Instead, the defendant’s liability was ultimately based on evidence relating to the broader episode rather than any particular infringing acts. Under the same-evidence test, then, the defendant’s actions could be characterized as arising out of a single infringement episode.

The same is true for some file-sharing cases, such as Tenenbaum.298Sony BMG Music Ent. v. Tenenbaum, 660 F.3d 487, 492–96 (1st Cir. 2011). In Tenenbaum, the defendant was accused of illegally downloading and distributing thirty sound recordings.299Id. at 490. But, again, the plaintiffs here failed to present any evidence to distinguish among discrete actions. Consider the plaintiffs’ pretrial motion, which discusses at some length the infringed works and the plaintiffs’ process for detecting them. As the pretrial motion explains, the plaintiffs engaged an external company to assist in detecting infringement.300Plaintiffs’ Pretrial Motion at 3, Sony BMG Music Ent. v. Tenenbaum, No. 07cv11446, 2009 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 115734 (D. Mass. Dec. 7, 2009), amended in part, 721 F. Supp. 2d 85 (D. Mass. 2010), aff’d in part, vacated in part, rev’d in part, 660 F.3d 487 (1st Cir. 2011). The company was able to identify the defendant by pinpointing the IP address of his computer, and the company was also able to ascertain that the defendant had used a file-sharing software called Kazaa to illegally download sound recordings.301Id. But the plaintiffs’ evidence did not identify when the infringed works were downloaded—it could only establish that, at some point, the defendant’s publicly viewable Kazaa folder contained and listed the infringed works.302See id. at 3–4. So the plaintiffs could show that the defendant engaged in a long-running scheme of downloading songs via file-sharing software, but they could not identify any particular actions the defendant took at any particular point in time. The upshot, once again, is that a court may reasonably conclude that the defendant’s actions here—as reflected in the evidence presented and in the plaintiffs’ failure to identify particular acts—were reducible to a single infringement episode.

Now, to take another example, consider the case of Cariou v. Prince.303Cariou v. Prince, 714 F.3d 694 (2d Cir. 2013) (holding that the defendant did not infringe the plaintiff’s rights by incorporating portions of the plaintiff’s photos into the defendant’s collages). Patrick Cariou published a book of portraits depicting Rastafarians in Jamaica.304Id. at 698. A few years later, a well-known appropriation artist by the name of Richard Prince tore out several of Cariou’s photos, altered them, and incorporated them into a series of paintings and collages that he exhibited at art galleries.305Id. Cariou sued Prince for copyright infringement, alleging that Prince had infringed his rights in dozens of separate photos.306Id. at 698–700. The court held that twenty-five of Prince’s artworks made fair use of the infringed photos.307Id. at 706–10. But let us assume, for the sake of argument, that Prince was held liable for his actions involving dozens of infringed works.

Could a court conclude that Prince’s actions arose out of, and were grounded in, a single infringement episode? The common plan test suggests a reason to think so. As the Second Circuit ultimately acknowledged, Prince’s actions were carried out in pursuit of a larger creative plan. Prince incorporated Cariou’s photos into a series of artworks displayed as part of an exhibition, called “Canal Zone,” and these works were later bound up and published in an accompanying exhibition catalog.308Id. at 703. In executing his creative vision, Prince altered the infringed photos and used them to create an exhibition that was far removed from Cariou’s original work. Prince’s exhibition “manifest[ed] an entirely different aesthetic,” turning Cariou’s serene portraits into “crude and jarring works.”309Id. at 706. So while Prince used a large number of Cariou’s works, these works were all incorporated into a larger project conveying a different brand of creative and social commentary. In other words, Prince’s actions arose out of a larger creative project—and were pursued in compliance with a preconceived plan. One could thus conclude that Prince’s infringing acts constituted a single infringement episode and may warrant only a single statutory award.

This suggests that the defendant’s intent, at least to the extent that it involves a larger creative enterprise, should inform the analysis. Why inquire into the defendant’s intent? The general idea is that the defendant’s creative motivation should matter because copyright law is fundamentally about encouraging creativity.310Sony Corp. of America v. Universal City Studios, Inc., 464 U.S. 417, 429 (1984) (pronouncing that copyright law “is intended to motivate the creative activity of authors”). Nowhere is this more apparent than in the context of fair use. The most important factor in the fair use analysis is whether the purportedly infringing use is transformative.311See generally Asay et al., supra note 65 (concluding, on the basis of an empirical study, that transformative use is the most consequential factor in the fair use analysis). The defendant’s use is transformative when it introduces a new purpose, meaning, or message.312Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, Inc., 510 U.S. 569, 579 (noting that the defendant’s use is transformative when it “adds something new, with a further purpose or different character, altering the first with new expression, meaning, or message”). This means that, generally speaking, injecting new creative expression into an original work is likely to be privileged as transformative.313Asay et al., supra note 65, at 950–51 (finding that a significant subset of transformative use cases involve a defendant who altered an original work with new creative expression). The central point, then, is that courts should follow a similar path when adjusting damages. They should consider whether the defendant engaged with an existing work for the purpose of pursuing a new creative project—this is, after all, precisely the kind of creativity that our law seeks to foster.314See William W. Fisher III, Reconstructing the Fair Use Doctrine, 101 Harv. L. Rev. 1659, 1768 (1988) (explaining that, as a matter of copyright policy, “uses of copyrighted material that either constitute or facilitate creative engagement with intellectual products should be preferred to uses that neither constitute nor foster such engagement”); Campbell, 510 U.S. at 579 (noting that “the goal of copyright, to promote science and the arts, is generally furthered by the creation of transformative works”).

In addition, there is another set of considerations that should bear on an assessment of the defendant’s conduct: the potential consequences of a statutory award. Here, courts need to consider two separate questions. The first is whether the defendant’s conduct prevented cost recoupment by the plaintiff. Did the plaintiff already recoup the costs of creating and distributing their works? If so, courts should be more inclined to find that the defendant’s actions derive from a single episode.

To see why, consider the dominant justification for copyright law in the United States: the incentive-access tradeoff. On this account, the copyright system provides authors with incentives to create intellectual works.315Shani Shisha, Fairness, Copyright, and Video Games: Hate the Game, Not the Player, 31 Fordham Intell. Prop. Media & Ent. L.J. 694, 773–75 (2021); see also Mazer v. Stein, 347 U.S. 201, 219 (1954) (“The economic philosophy behind the clause empowering Congress to grant patents and copyrights is the conviction that encouragement of individual effort by personal gain is the best way to advance public welfare through the talents of authors and inventors in ‘Science and useful Arts.’ ”). Because intellectual goods are non-rivalrous and non-excludable,316Shisha, supra note 315, at 773–74. authors need some form of legal protection to prevent others from free riding on their creative efforts.317Id. at 777 (“[The copyright owner] might have to rely on IP to prevent competitors from copying the work and infusing the market with cheap copies. Subsequent copies are often costless and easy to mass-produce.”). Without copyright protection, copyists will be able to distribute cheap copies and undercut the author’s prices. Consequently, authors will not be able to recoup the costs of producing their works, and so they may choose not to create at all.318Id. Cost recoupment is central to this story. By providing authors with a legal entitlement to exclude copyists, copyright aims to ensure that authors are able to recover their costs.319Shani Shisha, Commercializing Copyright, 65 B.C. L. Rev. 443, 482–83 (2024). Copyright law, then, provides authors with an economic incentive to invest in the production of intellectual works.

But copyright protection comes at a price. When a copyright owner enjoys legal exclusivity, they can increase the price they charge for access to their work.320Id. at 774 (“Copyright exacts a heavy toll: it allows creators to charge supracompetitive prices, thereby pricing some consumers out of the market.”). This means that more consumers will be priced out of the market.321Kal Raustiala & Christopher Jon Sprigman, The Second Digital Disruption: Streaming and the Dawn of Data-Driven Creativity, 94 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 1555, 1606 (2019). And the problem runs deeper: by limiting access to existing works, copyright law runs the risk of frustrating, rather than encouraging, creativity.322Id. Indeed, authors often create new works by engaging with existing ones.323Mark A. Lemley, The Economics of Improvement in Intellectual Property Law, 75 Tex. L. Rev. 989, 997 (1997) (explaining that “knowledge is cumulative—authors and inventors must necessarily build on what came before them”). Therefore, if copyright law seeks to make good on its promise of encouraging creativity, it must ensure that copyrighted works are ultimately made accessible to current and future users.324Shisha, supra note 65, at 1771. That is why copyright protection must be limited in scope and duration—it must “protect authors only to the extent necessary,”325Sinclair, supra note 38, at 943 (“[Copyright law] protect[s] authors only to the extent necessary to encourage continued production of works of merit. To extend protection beyond this point would be to lose sight of the very purpose of copyright law.”). while allowing for “the creation of new works that build upon earlier ones.”326Roger D. Blair & Thomas F. Cotter, An Economic Analysis of Damages Rules in Intellectual Property Law, 39 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 1585, 1606 (1998); see also Mark A. Lemley, Beyond Preemption: The Law and Policy of Intellectual Property Licensing, 87 Calif. L. Rev. 111, 124–25 (1999). To do so, our law should strike a balance between two conflicting interests: the need to incentivize authors on the one hand, and the need to ensure that works are accessible to society at large on the other.327Shisha, supra note 33, at 104–05.

Consistent with this understanding of copyright law, it is crucial to figure out whether the copyright owner was able to recoup their costs. And that question should inform not only the duration and scope of copyright entitlements;328Glynn S. Lunney, Jr., Copyright and the 1%, 23 Stan. Tech. L. Rev. 1, 58 (2020) (proposing an alternative framework that would take into account cost recoupment as a condition of “establish[ing] infringement or obtain[ing] injunctive relief”). it should also interact with the question of remedies. My core claim, in other words, is that in assessing whether to multiply the number of awards, courts should be able to confront the question of cost recoupment. If the plaintiff suffered little harm and reaped enormous profits—and if there is no risk the plaintiff might fail to recoup their costs—courts should find that the defendant’s actions constitute a single episode.329On the centrality of the cost-recoupment question, see id. at 57 (“When a copyright owner has had the opportunity to recoup, and certainly, when the copyright owner has recouped, its persuasion costs, the purpose of copyright has been satisfied. At that point, copyright protection should end.”).

Admittedly, the question of cost recoupment extends beyond the defendant’s immediate conduct. But assessing cost recoupment makes sense as a matter of copyright policy: it allows courts to account for the underlying objective of our system.

Finally, courts should also give pride of place to various distributional concerns. To assess whether it would be reasonable to treat the defendant’s conduct as arising out of a single scheme, courts must consider the distributional effects of an aggregate statutory award. As Bracha and Syed explain, distributional concerns should typically provoke a distinction between corporate and individual defendants.330Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1251–52. By and large, when the defendant is a corporation or a firm with dispersed liability, “neither distributive nor aggregation concerns are likely to prove worrying enough to require any [judicial] safeguard[s].”331Id. at 1251. However, when the defendant is a private individual, courts should ask whether a statutory award—multiplied by the number of infringed works—would “so eat into an average individual’s income or wealth”332Id. as to trigger significant distributive concerns. A hefty award directed at an individual of average means may well “have serious effects in areas such as housing, health, education, and more generally the ability to make and pursue basic life choices.”333Id. at 1248.

It follows, then, that courts should account for the identity (and relative wealth) of the defendant in considering whether their conduct is best characterized as reflecting a single, larger event. When the defendant is a private individual of moderate means—like the defendants in Thomas or Tenenbaum—it would be more appropriate to conclude that the defendant’s actions were the product of a single episode.

In conclusion, the proposed framework turns on a number of related factors. It attends not only to the defendant’s immediate conduct, but also to some of the broader distributional and utilitarian concerns that underpin our system. In particular, it directs courts to take into account the spatial and temporal nature of the defendant’s actions; whether the evidence supporting one infringement is necessary or sufficient to sustain liability for another; whether they were executed in accordance with a common plan or a larger creative project; and the potential consequences of a statutory award.

IV. OBJECTIONS

This Part briefly considers three potential objections: that the proposed system draws inspiration from the wrong sources; that it fails to alleviate the indeterminacy that ails our law; and that it is poorly suited to the task of compensating aggrieved plaintiffs. For various reasons, none of these objections is particularly compelling. Below I explain why.

A.  Doctrinal Transplants

One preliminary objection is that the doctrinal analogues I have identified above are irrelevant or otherwise inapplicable. The basic idea is that these doctrines emerged in very different settings and were designed with different goals in mind: streamlining civil proceedings, protecting criminal defendants, and demarcating grounds for deportation. These doctrines, put simply, serve different objectives, are subject to different limitations and judicial safeguards, and should not be applied to copyright lawsuits. Accordingly, it is not clear why these discrete bodies of law should bear in any meaningful sense on copyright remedies.

Yet this objection misfires for a number of reasons. One is that, as clarified above, I do not mean to suggest here that these doctrinal analogues are directly applicable to the law of copyright remedies. The point, rather, is that these doctrines could be treated as rough sources of inspiration. A doctrinal analogue is just that—an analogue. And while the proposed framework does incorporate some notable doctrines borrowed from other fields—the same-evidence test, the temporal question, and the common plan test—I nonetheless chose to pass over certain other doctrines.

I should also clarify that, in order to account for the underlying objectives of our system, I propose that we reorient some of these doctrinal analogues. Take the “common plan” test used by courts to determine whether an alien is deportable for committing two crimes of moral turpitude.3348 U.S.C. § 1227(a)(2)(A)(ii) (“Any alien who at any time after admission is convicted of two or more crimes involving moral turpitude, not arising out of a single scheme of criminal misconduct . . . is deportable.”). Under this test, some courts ask whether the two crimes were executed in pursuit of a common, preconceived plan. When that is the case, the two crimes are thought to have arisen out of a “single scheme of criminal misconduct.”335Id. Note, however, that as I have discussed above, there is a circuit split on the issue of the common plan test. While the B.I.A. and the First, Fourth, Fifth, Seventh, and Tenth Circuits reject the common plan test, the Second, Third, and Ninth Circuits have adopted it. See text accompanying supra notes 289–91. But under the framework developed here, the “common plan” test would be expanded to cover a larger creative enterprise.336See text accompanying supra notes 303–09. This is important because, as discussed above, modern copyright law seeks to stimulate precisely this type of creativity—namely, to allow users and authors to pursue creative projects.337See text accompanying supra notes 310–14. It would thus make sense for courts to evaluate the defendant’s creative motivation when calculating remedies. Even if the defendant is found to have infringed the plaintiff’s rights—such that the defendant’s conduct cannot be shielded by the fair use doctrine—we may still think it desirable to treat such infringements as less culpable so long as the defendant pursued a creative vision.

Moreover, in a broad sense, the framework envisioned here is a rather familiar one. Though the suggested system relies on a smattering of different factors, many of these factors are ones that courts already consider. It is just that courts typically do so when considering the size of the award, rather than the number of available awards. Applying these factors, then, should not require much adaptation—courts and juries have long attended to these factors anyway. Consider, for instance, the distributional issues I discussed above, which courts today sometimes assess by asking whether a large award would “put [the defendant] out of business.”338J & J Sports Prods., Inc. v. Arboleda, No. 6:09-cv-467-Orl-18, 2009 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 99768, at *19–20 (M.D. Fla. Oct. 5, 2009) (report and recommendation of magistrate judge) (“The Court must strike a balance between deterring other incidents of piracy by these Defendants and others, and not making the award such that it will put a small business out of business.”), adopted by No. 6:09-cv-467-Orl-18, 2009 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 99782 (M.D. Fla. Oct. 27, 2009); see, e.g., Garden City Boxing Club, Inc. v. Polanco, No. 05 Civ. 3411, 2006 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 5010, at *16–17 (S.D.N.Y. Feb. 7, 2006) (noting that “[a single] violation is not so serious as to warrant putting the restaurant out of business”), aff’d, 228 F. App’x 29 (2d Cir. 2007); R.A. Guthrie Co., Inc. v. Boparai, No. 4:18-cv-080, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 61507, at *32–33 (E.D. Tex. Mar. 1, 2021) (report and recommendation of magistrate judge) (“[T]he Court is cognizant that the purpose of willfulness damages is not to put the Defendants out of business.”), adopted by No. 4:18-cv-080, 2021 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 61506 (E.D. Tex. Mar. 25, 2021); Kingvision Pay-Per-View Ltd. v. Lake Alice Bar, 168 F.3d 347, 350 (9th Cir. 1999) (“Depending on the circumstances, a low five figure judgment may be a stiff fine that deters, while a high five figure judgment puts a bar out of business.”); Dae Han Video Prod., Inc. v. Chun, No. 89-1470-A, 1990 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 18496, at *19–20 (E.D. Va. June 18, 1990) (“The court is unwilling to . . . award [the plaintiff] what would amount to a windfall award that could potentially drive the defendants’ store out of business.”); G&G Closed Cir. Events, LLC v. GCF Enters. LLC, No. EP-15-CV-00111, 2015 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 156672, at *12 (W.D. Tex. Nov. 19, 2015) (“[T]he Court also recognizes that the purpose of these damages is not to drive Defendants out of business.”); Joe Hand Promotions, Inc. v. Ducummon, No. 11-CV-278, 2012 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 56672, at *6 (N.D. Okla. Apr. 23, 2012) (noting that an enhanced damages award should not be “so substantial that it will likely put defendants out of business” (citation omitted)). In so doing, courts impose a proportionality requirement—a requirement that the final award not be so large or disproportionate as to put the defendant out of business. My suggestion, then, is that courts simply consider this factor in one additional context: not just when calibrating the size of the award but also when evaluating whether to issue one award or multiple ones.

So, to sum it up, my choice of looking outward for inspiration is defensible. I suggest that we do so by devising a careful and nuanced framework, one that accounts for the ultimate objectives of the copyright system. And, essentially, this system is structured around an assortment of factors that courts already consider in different contexts, both within and outside of copyright law.

B.  Indeterminacy

Another objection is that the proposed system would not resolve the problem of indeterminacy. As everyone seems to agree, the caselaw is a mess. Courts issue divergent awards in similar cases and rarely offer any explanation for doing so. The caselaw, then, turns out to be inconsistent and arbitrary. And the proposed framework, in turn, does little to confront this issue. Instead, it affords courts and juries even more discretion, asking them to carry out a flexible, holistic inquiry on the basis of several unweighted factors. Won’t that make matters worse?

One possible response is that the proposed system will not make things any worse than they are now—the law is already an unmitigated disaster. As others have observed, courts tend to issue awards that are simply inexplicable, often dispensing radically different awards in similar circumstances.339See supra Section II.B. So even if my proposed system will not yield a measurable improvement in consistency, it is also unlikely my framework will make matters any worse. We’ve already hit rock bottom.

In any event, it is important to remember that a host of other issues bedevil our system. In a system driven by per-work aggregation, statutory awards can swell up dramatically.340See supra Section II.C. The result is that some defendants face a significant risk of excessive awards. Copyright’s per-work structure also discourages courts from developing substantive law.341See supra Section II.D. And it is here that one can clearly see the benefits of a more flexible system: if we decouple the number of awards from the number of infringed works, at least in cases where the defendant’s conduct resulted from a single infringement episode, the twin problems of aggregation and underdevelopment are likely to diminish. Given that these problems derive from per-work remedies, we could mitigate their effects by allowing courts to break from our per-work scheme. This means that, while my approach cannot tackle all of the relevant issues, it can surely contribute to eliminating or addressing some of them.

This suggests a related point: I am not claiming here that the proposed framework is a catchall solution. Rather, my proposal must be accompanied by a suite of additional reforms designed to overhaul our remedial scheme. Many of the proposals other scholars have advanced—such as reducing the statutory range,342See Depoorter, supra note 15, at 443. imposing a statutory cap,343Id. at 445. tying statutory damages to actual losses,344Samuelson & Wheatland, supra note 3, at 502–03; Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1249–50. and imposing sanctions on plaintiffs who make inflated claims345See Depoorter, supra note 15, at 442.—could work in tandem with my proposed system. While these proposals seek to reorient or limit the courts’ discretion in adjusting the size of the award, my proposal would allow courts to do away with per-work damages altogether.

C.  Compensation

One final objection is that the proposed scheme would make it harder for plaintiffs to obtain compensation for the actual harm they suffered. As noted above, most copyright scholars agree that courts are insufficiently attentive to the rationales underlying statutory damages.346See supra Section II.A. And while it is clear that Congress intended for courts to award enhanced damages only in a narrow subset of “exceptional cases”—those involving large-scale infringement or repeat transgressors—it is also clear that, in most other cases, statutory damages were meant to serve a largely compensatory role.347Shisha, supra note 65, at 1756–57 (“The legislative history shows that increased damages for willful infringement were originally meant to apply to exceptional cases—nakedly egregious cases in which the infringer brazenly flouted the law. So while statutory damages are largely compensatory, there are exceptional circumstances in which courts might award punitive-like damages for willful infringement.” (citing Samuelson & Wheatland, supra note 3, at 441)). Thus, with one limited exception, statutory damages were meant to ensure that copyright owners would be compensated for their losses.

Yet there is a problem lurking beneath the surface: if statutory damages were engineered to serve a compensatory role, courts would have to account for the number of infringed works. After all, each work represents a distinct source of harm.348Id. at 1789. A copyright owner will often charge a licensing fee for access to each of their works. To account for the plaintiff’s lost fees, then, the court will have to take stock of each and every work at issue. My proposal, however, could frustrate this process. By severing the connection between the number of awards and the number of works, the suggested system threatens to deny plaintiffs the opportunity to obtain proper compensation for their actual damages.

But is that really the case? As I have emphasized before, there is more than one way to compensate a copyright holder for the harm they sustained.349Id. at 1790. One way is to adjust the number of awards based on the number of infringed works. But there is another possibility, and perhaps an equally effective one: “control[ing] for the number of infringed works by increasing or reducing the size of the aggregate award” within the statutory range.350Id. Courts and juries have at their disposal an incredibly robust statutory range stretching from $200 to $150,000, depending on the type of case at hand. And they can increase or reduce the total award within that range based on the number of works infringed and the defendant’s level of culpability.

For example, suppose the defendant copied three of the plaintiff’s photos. Now suppose that the plaintiff typically charges a licensing fee of $1,000 for each of their photos, meaning that the plaintiff’s total loss is $3,000. In adjusting the award, the court can pursue one of two possibilities: it can issue three separate awards of $1,000 each; or, alternatively, the court can dispense a single, aggregate award in the amount of $3,000. In other words, the court should be able to ensure full compensation by calibrating a single, aggregate award within the statutory range.

Nevertheless, there is an additional wrinkle here: if courts are to rely on a single, aggregate award, the statutory range has to be sufficiently broad to accommodate cases involving a large number of works or a small number of particularly valuable ones. To be sure, there may be cases where so many works are at stake—hundreds or even thousands—that a single award, even at the statutory maximum of $150,000, simply won’t do. For example, if the defendant copied 5,000 songs, each valued at $50, the plaintiff’s total loss would amount to $250,000 (5,000 x $50). This means that a single award of $150,000 simply wouldn’t suffice. Or imagine a case implicating 25 works, each valued at $10,000—again, a total loss of $250,000 would exceed the statutory maximum. What this suggests is that the statutory range must be robust enough to accommodate an array of possible scenarios.

These concerns, however, are overblown. First, even under the proposed approach, courts may nonetheless find that a mass-infringement event does not qualify as a single infringement episode. Perhaps such an event would be better described as a series of separate episodes, each warranting an additional statutory award. Exceptional cases call for exceptional remedies. Second, there is good reason to believe that such cases would be vanishingly rare. The vast majority of copyrighted works command little market value, if any, and the current statutory range would likely be sufficiently broad to ensure proper compensation in a large majority of cases.351Shisha, supra note 315, at 782 (concluding, on the basis of recent empirical work, that “in practice, few works carry market value, and most are only commercially viable for short periods of time”); Shisha, supra note 319, at 456–58 (noting that most creative works—across a range of different industries—command little commercial value). In a sense, any concrete cap on the amount of damages would be arbitrary—we simply have to draw the line somewhere. But given that most works have little value, the current statutory limit seems more than sufficiently robust to accommodate the typical infringement case.

CONCLUSION

The law of statutory damages is in a state of disrepair. It often produces “arbitrary, inconsistent, unprincipled, and grossly excessive awards.”352Samuelson & Wheatland, supra note 3, at 497. Courts command “a contested, somewhat obscured, and even outright confused” understanding of copyright’s remedial system.353Bracha & Syed, supra note 14, at 1230. And statutory damages are susceptible to pervasive “overclaiming” across “virtually all areas of copyright law.”354Depoorter, supra note 15, at 407. But most reform proposals to date have papered over the real issue. So entwined are statutory damages in our copyright system that any attempts at serious reform may seem hopeless. And although commentators uniformly agree that statutory damages present a problem of colossal proportions, they have not yet been able to tackle the core problem: per-work damages.

This Article attempts to do just that. It seeks to jumpstart a conversation about structural reform and offer a roadmap for legislative and judicial action to confront the risk of inflated damages. It proposes, in short, that we do away with per-work damages altogether. It develops an alternative system that would accord judges a significant degree of discretion to look beyond the number of infringed works. Courts could do so by examining whether the defendant’s actions are collectively attributable to a larger infringement episode. When the defendant’s conduct arises out of a single episode, courts should issue only a single statutory award—no matter how many individual works are at issue. If adopted, this system would reduce the risk of excessive awards, prompt courts to properly adjust damages, and introduce a degree of pragmatism into our system.

This framework may seem radical. That is so in part because it appears to mandate a sharp break from a centuries-old system of per-work damages. But, in a sense, the proposed system is, in fact, a familiar one—after all, courts have forged similar doctrines to address analogous problems across a variety of otherwise distinct areas of law, including criminal law, civil procedure, and immigration law.

In the end, this Article envisions a world without per-work damages. What distinguishes the proposed system from other proposals is that it takes seriously the core issue: per-work remedies make it too easy for courts and juries to aggregate damages in ways that lead to outlandish awards. After thirty years of faint-hearted debates, it is well past time that policymakers try something different.

97 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1029

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* Assistant Professor, SMU Dedman School of Law; Fellow, Berkman Klein Center for Internet & Society, Harvard Law School, 2021–22. For valuable feedback and generative conversations, I thank William Fisher, William McCoy, Guy Rubinstein, Brian Soucek, Oren Tamir, and Rebecca Tushnet. I received helpful comments from participants at the Harvard Law School Art of the Response Paper Workshop. I am also grateful to Vice Dean Gabriella Blum and Assistant Dean Catherine Peshkin for providing institutional support for this project. I am indebted to the editors of the Southern California Law Review, particularly Madeline Goossen, Ariana Croll, Mariem Masmoudi, Carus Newman, and Chloe Williams, for superb editorial work. Finally, I would like to thank the Harvard Law School Graduate Program for generous financial support.

Nothing Comes from Nothing: Andy Warhol and the Inadequacy of the Fair Use Analysis of Contemporary Art

Andy Warhol looms large—not just within the ivory tower of contemporary visual arts, but in American culture. To many, his colorful silkscreen portraits of such celebrities as Marilyn Monroe or Elizabeth Taylor are paradigmatic of contemporary art. Yet, despite the near-universal reach of his work and his significant celebrity in his own right, the theoretical and conceptual underpinnings of his work remain less accessible to casual viewers.

In 1984, Lynn Goldsmith, a celebrity portrait photographer, licensed a 1981 photograph she took of the musical artist Prince (the “Goldsmith Photograph”) to Vanity Fair Magazine for use as an artist reference in an illustration that appeared twice in the magazine, with attribution back to Goldsmith for the “source photograph.”1Andy Warhol Found. for the Visual Arts, Inc. v. Goldsmith, 143 S. Ct. 1258, 1266 (2023). Vanity Fair hired Andy Warhol to create a silkscreen portrait of Prince based on the Goldsmith Photograph to accompany an article about Prince’s music and newfound celebrity. Unbeknownst to Goldsmith until she discovered “Orange Prince,” an orange silkscreen portrait of the singer, on the cover of Condé Nast’s posthumous tribute to Prince in 2016, Warhol created fifteen additional works based on her photograph (the “Prince Series”) before his death. Goldsmith sued for copyright infringement, and the district court for the Southern District of New York (the “Warhol district court”) initially found the Prince Series was transformative and granted summary judgment to the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts (“AWF”) on its fair use defense. The Second Circuit reversed upon concluding that each of the four statutory fair use factors2  See infra Part I              . weighed in favor of Goldsmith. The Supreme Court granted certiorari to examine the first fair use factor, ultimately finding in a 7-2 decision that the first factor favored Goldsmith and counseled against fair use because the purpose of Orange Prince was substantially the same as the Goldsmith Photograph and AWF’s licensing of Orange Prince to Condé Nast’s special issue commemorating Prince was of a commercial nature.3Andy Warhol Found. for the Visual Arts, Inc. v. Goldsmith, 143 S. Ct. at 1278, 1280. Justice Kagan, joined by Chief Justice Roberts, penned a sharply-worded dissent in defense of Warhol’s transformative use of his source material, accusing the majority of leaving the Court’s first factor inquiry “in shambles”4Id. at 1292 (Kagan, J., dissenting). and “our world poorer.”5Id. at 1312 (Kagan, J., dissenting).

Warhol’s fame complicates the fair use analysis in the case at hand (“Warhol”) because it raises questions of “celebrity-plagiarist privilege”6Andy Warhol Found. for the Visual Arts, Inc. v. Goldsmith, 11 F.4th 26, 31, 43 (2d Cir. 2021) (“[T]he more established the artist and the more distinct that artist’s style, the greater leeway that artist would have to pilfer the creative labors of others.”). and how the Supreme Court’s ruling may influence less established artists in future copyright suits. The Warhol district court and the Second Circuit, amici for both parties, and Supreme Court Justices have all debated the proper role, or the absence thereof, that Warhol’s fame might play in the Court’s analysis of whether Orange Prince could be protected as fair use of the Goldsmith Photograph. Despite the fact that this case is far from the first time Warhol’s appropriation of photographs for his silkscreen work has embroiled him in copyright disputes with the photographers of the underlying works (most disputes were settled out of court),7Kate Donohue, Andy the Appropriator: The Copyright Battles You Won’t Hear About at the Whitney’s Warhol Exhibit, Colum. J.L. & Arts (Aug. 2, 2019), https://journals.library.columbia.edu/
index.php/lawandarts/announcement/view/112 [https://perma.cc/73LG-4FNT].
this case promised to be of unprecedented significance because of the myriad of ways in which Warhol epitomizes the challenges that appropriation art,8Appropriation art refers to the practice of using preexisting images or objects to create new artwork with minimal physical transformations to the originals; often to challenge traditional notions of authenticity, creativity, and authorship. Appropriation, Tate, https://www.tate.org.uk/art/art-terms/a/appropriation [https://perma.cc/B8UL-VH45]. and the contemporary visual arts more broadly, have historically posed for the fair use doctrine.

The task of formulating a clear standard for evaluating fair use in cases involving appropriation art has only become more challenging in our digital age, in which the use of appropriation in art is no longer limited to the “relatively small segment of creators who practice ‘appropriation art.’ ”9Amy Adler, Fair Use and the Future of Art, 91 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 559, 571 (2016). The practice of copying has become “both the topic of contemporary art and its technique” and “now permeates art in an extraordinarily diverse range of ways.”10Id. at 571–72. Accordingly, Warhol represented a crucial opportunity for the Supreme Court to tailor a more specialized and better-informed standard of fair use in the context of the conceptual visual arts so that the fair use doctrine may continue to evolve alongside advancements in the arts.

This Note proposes that the Supreme Court should have vacated and remanded Warhol to the district court to supplement its evaluation of the first and fourth fair use factors with an evidentiary analysis of the perspective of an art market consumer or magazine editor. Part I of this Note offers an overview of the legislative intent of the fair use defense and the four statutory factors, then traces subsequent articulations of the doctrine in U.S. fair use jurisprudence. Part II discusses the issues of scope and incompatibility that arise from the fraught application of the Second Circuit’s analysis of “transformativeness” under the first factor to conceptual art. Part III explores how adapting the substantial similarity analysis to fair use by allowing courts to consider the perspective of the art market consumer under the first and fourth factors can contribute to a more equitable and informed application of the fair use doctrine.

Co-Creating Equality

When a creative work has many co-creators, not all of whom contributed equally, how should they split ownership? In the absence of a contract, copyright law has long adopted an all-or-nothing answer to this question: if you are deemed to be a “co-author” you get an equal split; otherwise, you get nothing. Because the privileges of co-authorship are so great, courts have erected an onerous barrier to qualifying as a “co-author”: you must have had “control” over the whole collaborative work. This barrier has been criticized both for being arbitrary and for unfairly resulting in lesser contributors going unrecognized and uncompensated. But removing this barrier—in the context of the longstanding rule granting co-authors an automatic equal split—risks unfairly diluting majority contributors. So, in deciding whether to remove the barrier, we have to balance the perceived unfairness of minority contributors going uncompensated against the perceived unfairness of majority contributors being diluted. In this Article I will show that this question of perceived fairness can be answered empirically.

To determine creators’ revealed preferences for how to treat lesser contributing collaborators, I assemble two datasets. Both datasets are in the core copyright domain where the default co-authorship rules are most relevant: co-songwriting. First, I construct a dataset of the songwriting contribution levels, writing credits, and copyright registrations of every band that has a certified Gold Record and writes its own songs. This is over one thousand music groups. Second, by cross-correlating data released by the principal performance rights organizations in response to recent antitrust probes, I estimate royalty splits between the co-writers of over 1.2 million songs. The studies in this Article are the largest and most comprehensive investigation into joint authorship to date that accounts for parties’ contributions.

My primary finding is that the typical behavior of creators is to credit everyone involved in writing as a co-author, even the lesser contributors. A secondary finding is that co-authors who were lesser contributors typically share equally in songwriting royalties. Main contributors thus choose to share much more with lesser contributors than they would be compelled to under current law in the absence of a contract. This revealed preference suggests that we can adopt a more inclusive legal criterion for co-authorship—and in particular remove the arbitrary and exclusionary barrier that to be a co-author one must have control over the entire work—and that we can do so without violating creators’ own sense of fairness. Beyond copyright law and the music industry, these findings have implications for the design of incentives in intellectual property law and creative collaboration more broadly.

INTRODUCTION

Over the last few decades, people have been collaborating to produce creative works more than ever before, from songs to software. But in the absence of an explicit contract, the law of co-authorship now recognizes as “co-authors” only those contributors who have control over the whole collaborative work.1See infra Section I.C. This control doctrine2This is the theory of authorship advanced in Aalmuhammed v. Lee, 202 F.3d 1227, 1234 (9th Cir. 2000) and Erickson v. Trinity Theater, Inc., 13 F.3d 1061, 1068 (7th Cir. 1994), present in Thomson v. Larson, 147 F.3d 195, 202–03 (2d Cir. 1998) as the “decisionmaking authority” factor, and followed in those and other circuits. See infra Sections I.B–C. has been broadly criticized: the doctrine seems arbitrary; it may leave lesser contributors entirely uncompensated; and it may obscure the identities of the lesser co-creators.

Under current law, the question of who counts as a co-author has a lot riding on it. This is because there is a longstanding rule granting co-authors an automatic equal split of royalties.3Statutory law is silent on ownership shares, stating only that the “authors of a joint work are coowners of copyright in the work.” 17 U.S.C. § 201(a). The equal split default was developed as a common law rule. The contemporary common law of joint authorship was codified as part of the Copyright Act of 1976. See infra Sections I.A–B. Unless they have a contract that says otherwise, the default “equal split” rule is that joint authors share license proceeds equally.4While the ability to license the work on a nonexclusive basis is only one of a bundle of rights possessed by the copyright holder—the right to transfer the work on an exclusive basis most notable among them—it is the most economically significant right in most contexts, and therefore the focus of this Article.

Thus under current law, outcomes tend to be binary. Either you have control over the entire work, in which case you count as a co-author and by default get an equal split; or you do not, in which case no matter how much you contributed to the final product you are not a co-author and by default receive nothing.

There are three paths forward. One is to maintain the status quo, leaving the control doctrine in place, at the risk of unfairly leaving minor contributors entirely uncompensated5When efforts are not rewarded, rational workers scale back efforts to conserve their resources. Charles G. McClintock, Roderick M. Kramer & Linda J. Keil, Equity and Social Exchange in Human Relationships, 17 Advances in Experimental Soc. Psych. 183, 195 (1984). (among other problems). A second choice is to remove the control doctrine for co-authorship, while also removing the (more long-standing) “equal split” rule, and make the royalty share proportional to the level of contribution. A third option is to remove the control doctrine but leave the equal split rule in place, at the risk of unfairly diluting the shares of the main authors.

If the wrong choice is made, we risk disincentivizing creative collaboration, either by giving rise to credit allocations that creators view as unfair and demotivating, or at any rate by imposing the transaction costs of having to contract out of them.6See Dan L. Burk & Mark A. Lemley, Policy Levers in Patent Law, 89 Va. L. Rev. 1575, 1639 (2003) (“Rules are cheap to administer because they are simple and straightforward, but due to their inflexibility they may lead to costly outcomes if they fit a given situation poorly.”). The important question is then what is fair as judged by the creators7This appears to be the overriding concern of the courts, although couched in utilitarian language. It may be that courts intuitively recognize the (empirically sound) notion that creators’ perception of fairness can motivate them to create (or demotivate them when perceived fairness is lacking). See Stephanie Plamondon Bair, Rational Faith: The Utility of Fairness in Copyright, 97 B.U. L. Rev. 1487, 1502–06 (2017). My argument is rooted in the idea that the utilitarian ends of copyright may, in a joint authorship context, be served by attention to the fairness concerns of co-authors. For a discussion and further empirical support, see Sarah Polcz, Loyalties v. Royalties, Hastings L.J. (forthcoming 2023). to whom the default rules apply, not as judged by the general public or by legal scholars. Joint authorship default rules are uniquely relevant for co-songwriting; they are preempted by work for hire or other practices in most other contexts. For this reason, in this Article I will attempt to answer the following empirical question: as revealed by their actions, what do the majority of co-songwriters view as a sensible way to grant co-authorship and split songwriting license proceeds? In particular, how do they treat lesser contributing collaborators?

To pursue these questions, I assemble two datasets. First, I construct a dataset of the songwriting contribution levels, writing credits, and copyright registrations of over one thousand music groups—every band with a certified Gold Record that primarily releases its own songs, since certifications began to the present (1959–2021). I explore how co-author-crediting decisions are associated with features of the creative context including members’ levels of songwriting contributions, number of collaborators, geography, genre, and era. Second, I extend beyond music groups and explore royalty splits between co-writers for over 1.2 million songs by leveraging the data sharing undertaken by the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers (“ASCAP”)8ASCAP, along with Broadcast Music, Inc. (“BMI”), are the two largest organizations that collect public performance royalties on behalf of songwriters and music publishers (performance rights organizations, or “PROs”) in the United States. Combined, ASCAP and BMI control approximately ninety percent of the public performance licensing market. Anousha Sakoui, Justice Department Leaves Decades-Old Music Industry Decrees Unchanged, L.A. Times (Jan. 15, 2021), https://www.latimes.com/
entertainment-arts/business/story/2021-01-15/justice-dept-consent-decrees-music-industry-ascap [https://
perma.cc/5Z8F-7MXW].
in response to its ongoing antitrust action. I find that lesser contributors are most often credited as co-authors, and as co-authors they most often share equally in songwriting royalties. The results support the position that calls for rethinking the control doctrine while retaining joint authorship’s equal split default rule.

Part I reviews the history of the equal split rule, the phases of the development of the control doctrine in joint authorship law, and the competing proposals for its revision. Part II makes the case that empirical data can guide our way forward. Parts III and IV present the methodologies and results of two studies. Part V discusses the legal implications of the results.

I. CONTEXT

A co-author who licenses a joint work—for example, allowing a song to be used in a television show—must give their co-authors a share of that money.9H.R. Rep. No. 94-1476, at 121 (1976); Paul Goldstein, Goldstein on Copyright § 4.2.2.1, at 4:30 (3d ed. 2020 & Supp. 2020). If the co-authors have a contract between them, they receive the agreed amount. Otherwise, each co-author is entitled to an equal share,10Goldstein, supra note 9, § 4.2.2, at 4:29 (“Each co-owner’s share of license proceeds will be measured according to a principle of strict equality, and will not be proportioned to the quantity or quality of each co-owner’s contributions to the joint work.”). even if the parties have indisputably made unequal contributions to the joint work.11See, e.g., Sweet Music, Inc. v. Melrose Music Corp., 189 F. Supp. 655, 659 (S.D. Cal. 1960).

A. The Equal Split and the “Intent to Merge”

This was not always the case.12For a brief history of accounting in Anglo-American copyright law prior to 1874, see Accountability Among Co-Owners of Statutory Copyright, 72 Harv. L. Rev. 1550, 1553–55 (1959). For the first century after copyright laws appeared in the United States, there was no default rule dictating how to split co-authorship profits, or concerning co-authorship generally.13See Subcomm. on Patents, Trademarks & Copyrights of Sen. Comm. on the Judiciary, 86th Cong., 2d Sess., Copyright Law Revision: Studies Nos. 11–13, at 89 (Comm. Print 1960) (authored by George D. Cary) (“[N]either in the hearings nor in the report accompanying the bill that became the copyright law of 1909, does one find a reference to the problems of joint authorship or joint ownership.” (footnotes omitted)); Accountability Among Co-Owners of Statutory Copyright, supra note 12, at 150 (pointing out that no judicial statement on co-authorship had been made in Anglo-American law prior to 1871). Copyright registration was relatively unimportant for the first century of the United States under the Constitution, for reasons both philosophical14Copyright, and intellectual property protection generally, were regarded as species of monopoly, which could lead to political and social corruption. See 1 William F. Patry, Patry on Copyright § 1:18, Westlaw (database updated Sept. 2022). While these protections were regarded as too useful to be abolished, even early supporters like James Madison thought they should be treated with caution. See James Madison, Detached Memoranda, ca. 31 January 1820, Nat’l Archives, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Madison/04-01-02-0549 [https://perma.cc/VV9L-5QYX]. and economic.15A calculation by Professor William Patry, placing copyright registrations between 1790 and 1800 at approximately five percent of domestically published books, suggested the local nature of publication, the relative lack of piracy, burdensome formalities of copyright, and the preponderance of British-authored books—for which no protection was available under the Copyright Act of 1790—as prevailing reasons for the lack of registration. Patry, supra note 14, § 1:19. The expansion of the domestic publishing industry, without a concomitant expansion of domestic authorship, would stymie copyright reform throughout the nineteenth century: piracy of foreign (mainly British) authored works was regarded as a boon to the free spread of ideas throughout the democratic polity. Peter Baldwin, The Copyright Wars 114 (2014). Economically, the primary focus was on the protection of the American publisher—often of unauthorized foreign reprints—rather than the American author. See id. at 118. But in the wake of the transatlantic success of American authors, most significantly Harriet Beecher Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin, Congress fully extended copyright protection to foreign authors in 1891. See id. at 121–22. The modern period of American copyright could be said to have begun, and the modern period of American joint authorship law would soon follow. When co-authorship did arise, co-authors settled among themselves whether or not they would share licensing income. The first judicial decision on accounting between co-authors was not until 1874. The court in Carter v. Bailey held that a co-author could license their joint work without their co-authors’ consent16Carter v. Bailey, 64 Me. 458, 463 (1874) (“In the absence of any contract modifying their relations, they are simply owners in common . . . each owning a distinct but undivided part which or any part of which alone he can sell, as in the case of personal chattels.”). and without having to redistribute that licensing income among any co-authors of the work not party to the licensing transaction.17Id. at 463–64. The rationale behind this was that the left-out co-authors were equally able to do the same if they put forth the effort, because a license to one person does not use up intangible property.18See id. at 462. Each co-author owned an undivided interest in the entire work, and so had the full right to license that property so long as they did not interfere with their co-authors’ rights to do the same.19See id. at 464–65. This mirrored the situation with patent co-owners.20Id. at 464; see also Theodore R. Kupferman, Copyright—Co-Owners, 19 St. John’s L. Rev. 95, 103–04 (1945); Accountability Among Co-Owners of Statutory Copyright, supra note 12, at 1555.

In the decades that immediately followed Carter, the copyright landscape in the U.S. was transformed by a boom of popular culture and means for its dissemination. By the early twentieth century, entertainment industries were expanding, changing, or being freshly created.21In the United States, record sales increased from approximately 3 million units in 1900 to 30 million in the early 1910s to 140 million in 1921. Pekka Gronow, The Record Industry: The Growth of a Mass Medium, 3 Popular Music 53, 59 (1983). Radio broadcasting stations increased from five in 1921 to over five hundred in 1924. Christopher H. Sterling & John Michael Kittross, Stay Tuned: A History of American Broadcasting 827 (3d ed. 2002). By 1930, 40.3% of American households owned radio sets; by 1940 the figure was 82.8%, and 95% saturation was reached by 1950. Steve Craig, How America Adopted Radio, 48 J. Broad. & Elec. Media 179, 182 (2004). For a history of the similar growth of the American film industry during this time period, see generally Eileen Bowser, The Transformation of Cinema 1907–1915 (1990) and Richard Koszarski, An Evening’s Entertainment: The Age of the Silent Feature Picture 1915–1928 (1990). Co-authorship grew from the minority case to a common way of producing creative works in important domains. Moreover, dissemination of works was so improved that the circumstances that justified the holding in Carter—that there was no duty to account because one co-author’s licensing of the joint work would not impair the excluded authors’ ability to license it—quite clearly no longer applied.22See Accountability Among Co-Owners of Statutory Copyright, supra note 12, at 1556 (contrasting the reach of publication in the time of Carter with the ability to reach “virtually the entire potential audience” with then-contemporary publication). Technologies like radio and film could reach the entire market for a joint work,23A similar logic was applied in Crosney v. Edward Small Prods., Inc., 52 F. Supp. 559 (S.D.N.Y. 1942) (accounting appropriate between co-owners of motion picture rights where licensing destroys the value of the res). leaving nothing for excluded authors and thereby effectively destroying the value of the work’s copyright for them.24See Shapiro, Bernstein & Co. v. Jerry Vogel Music Co., 73 F. Supp. 165, 168 (S.D.N.Y. 1947). Most later cases recognize—or at least recite—an equitable “constructive trust” basis for recovery, rather than a tenancy in common theory analogizing ouster or destruction of the res. See Maurel v. Smith, 220 F. 195, 201 (S.D.N.Y. 1915) (“[W]hen the Smiths took out these statutory copyrights the literary property, which by publication they used and destroyed . . . .”). Modern cases often leave the legal basis indeterminate. See, e.g., Oddo v. Ries, 743 F.2d 630, 633 (9th Cir. 1984) (describing duty to account as derived from “equitable doctrines relating to unjust enrichment and general principles of law governing the rights of co-owners” (quoting Harrington v. Mure, 186 F. Supp. 655, 657–58 (S.D.N.Y. 1960))).

This rule first shifted in 1915 with Maurel v. Smith.25Maurel, 220 F. at 201. In Maurel, three parties agreed to jointly author an operatic work. The plaintiff wrote the plot (the “scenario”), while the first defendant H. Smith translated the plot into script and claimed to have made substantial modifications. The second defendant added lyrics for musical numbers without reference to the plot.26The composer was not a party to the suit. The defendants then registered the copyright for the work without including the plaintiff, blocking her from exploiting her property, as under the 1909 Copyright Act an author’s rights followed from registration.27Copyright Act of 1909, Pub. L. No. 60-349, § 9, 35 Stat. 1075, 1077. The court held that the license proceeds were held in a constructive trust for the excluded co-author,28Maurel, 220 F. at 201. in effect creating a duty to account, because there had been no other way for the excluded co-author to obtain license revenue. Cases following Maurel, however, interpreted it as establishing a general duty for co-authors to account to each other for profits.29See, e.g., Jerry Vogel Music Co. v. Miller Music, Inc., 74 N.Y.S.2d 425, 428 (N.Y. App. Div. 1947), aff’d, 87 N.E.2d 681 (1949) (confirming the accounting rule in co-authorship as “promot[ing] sound and orderly marketing of a work and a fair division of profits on the basis of mutual interest”). The case itself concerned, as early joint authorship cases often did, the words and music of a song. Moreover, they were to share equally in those proceeds, at least in the absence of a contract stating otherwise. This position has been treated as settled law since it was established more than one hundred years ago.30See 1 Melville B. Nimmer & David Nimmer, Nimmer on Copyright § 6.08 (2022). Courts have not given consideration to uneven shares.31See Justin Hughes, Actors as Authors in American Copyright Law, 51 Conn. L. Rev. 1, 66 (2019) (noting that Sweet Music, Inc. v. Melrose Music Corp., 189 F. Supp. 655 (S.D. Cal. 1960) is the “rare, possibly lone case directly deciding this issue”), a finding with which my research agrees. In Thomson v. Larson, 147 F.3d 195, 205 (2d Cir. 1998), plaintiff Lynn Thomson proposed an award of “24 per cent of two-thirds of the authors’ share attributable to the work as a whole, or in other words, 16 per cent,” on the theory that she had co-authored two-thirds (book and lyrics, but not music) of a revised version of Rent with Jonathan Larson, 48% of which consisted of new material. Brief of Plaintiff-Appellant at 50, Thomson v. Larson, 147 F.3d 195 (2d Cir. 1998) (No. 97-9085). The court appeared to give no consideration to this suggestion.

Importantly, Maurel established that contributions to the joint work do not need to be balanced; co-authorship would be found so long as the collaborators share a “common design.”32Maurel, 220 F. at 199. One defendant had argued that the plaintiff should not be considered his co-author because substantial changes had been made to the plot she contributed,33Id. in essence asserting that his contributions to the totality were significantly greater than the plaintiff’s. On this point, Judge Learned Hand adopted the view put forth in the English case Levy v. Rutley,34Levy v. Rutley, L.R. 6 C.P. 523 (1871). that as long as the parties had agreed upon a common scheme for the joint work there “can be no difficulty in saying that they are joint authors of the work, though one may do a larger share of it than the other.”35Id. at 530 (opinion of Montague Smith, J.). Having established that the plaintiff was indeed a co-author with the defendants, Judge Hand found that the copyright was the resulting res of their three contributions, “and by every equitable rule the defendants hold any legal rights they have upon trust in the same proportion.”36Maurel, 220 F. at 201. In so declaring, Judge Hand applied the common law of tenancy in common to the parties’ relationship, one of equal ownership by default.37See Avner D. Sofer, Joint Authorship: An Uncomfortable Fit with Tenancy in Common, 19 Loy. L.A. Ent. L.J. 1, 7–8 (1998).

But tenants in common can refute their equal undivided shares by showing evidence of unequal financial contributions to the purchase of the common property.38This was established by the time Maurel was decided. See, e.g., In re McConnell, 197 F. 438, 441 (N.D.N.Y. 1912) (citing Bittle v. Clement, 54 A. 138 (N.J. Ch. 1903)). In the case of a joint work, the analog would be to adjust the co-authors’ shares to reflect some proportion of their inputs, whether the relative quantity of their creative contribution or value created. Judge Hand did not address this feature of tenancy in common explicitly, but effectively shut out its application in the case when he took up the claims of the second defendant. The second defendant, R. Smith (brother of defendant H. Smith), argued that he did not need to share with the plaintiff profits resulting from a separate publication of the song lyrics he had written for the opera. Judge Hand took the view that the lyricist could not claim the opera played no role in the later sales success of his lyrics. In a consequential declaration, Judge Hand found determining the contribution of the whole to the success of the part in this manner was not possible.39Maurel, 220 F. at 200 (“[I]t is impossible to say how much of their vogue was due to [the lyrics] alone, and how much to their presentation along with the opera as a whole. . . . I do not think that it is in the least possible to undertake a satisfactory analysis of the extent of the mutual influences between the parts of such a piece.”). For this reason, the lyricist would be required to split any profits from the separate sale of lyrics equally with his co-authors in the whole opera.

Judge Hand (and decisions accepting the logic of Maurel) treated that reasoning as sufficient to implicate the converse scenario as well: that the particular contribution of any co-author to the success of the whole could not be measured,40See Edward B. Marks Music Corp. v. Jerry Vogel Music Co., 140 F.2d 266, 267 (2d Cir. 1944) (Hand, J.) (“The popularity of a song turns upon both the words and the music; the share of each in its success cannot be appraised . . . .”). leading to the generalized pronouncement that when “several collaborators knowingly engage in the production of a piece which is to be presented originally as a whole only, they adopt that common design . . . and unless they undertake expressly to apportion their contributions, they must share alike.”41Maurel, 220 F. at 200. The underlying causal premises of Judge Hand’s reasoning is that when all authors’ contributions are necessary for a work’s value,42Professor Shyamkrishna Balganesh proposes the application of a Necessary Elements of a Sufficient Set (“NESS”) test to determine whether causation rises to the level of authorship. Shyamkrishna Balganesh, Causing Copyright, 117 Colum. L. Rev. 1, 57–61 (2017). the degree to which each comparatively adds to that value cannot be assessed. Each contribution has its effect at the level of whether or not it is made (that is, categorical) because the contributions are mutually contingent; in this sense all contributions are equally responsible for the work’s total value. This suggests an equal split because it cannot be said that one person’s contribution is “more” of a cause than another’s.

In Maurel, there was disagreement about the parties’ proportional contributions, as the defendants sought to justify excluding the plaintiff from the copyright registration by minimizing her contribution. But the decision suggests that Judge Hand considered the parties’ true contributions to be of comparable magnitude.43Such a perception would be supported by the plaintiff and first defendant having on several previous occasions negotiated an equal split of profits for a collaboration with the same division of labor as in the case at bar, although Judge Hand stated his decision was not based on this consideration. See Maurel, 220 F. at 198. It may be for this reason that, after rejecting the possibility of determining the responsibility of each party separately for the opera’s success, Judge Hand did not find it helpful to entertain the alternative of dividing royalty rights according to some measure of each author’s direct inputs. But whatever the reason, this position has been enforced even when parties did not dispute that the co-authors’ contributions to the joint work were not equal. In Sweet Music, Inc. v. Melrose Music Corp.,44Sweet Music, Inc. v. Melrose Music Corp.,189 F. Supp. 655 (S.D. Cal. 1960). the assignee of a co-author requested a three-quarter share in a song’s renewal copyright, on the basis that he had written “half the words and all the music.”45Id. at 659. In the absence of “evidence indicating that the ownership was intended as other than an undivided one-half interest for each of the co-authors,”46Id.; see also Eliscu v. T. B. Harms Co., 1966 WL 7662, at *2 (N.Y. Sup. Ct. Oct. 27, 1966) (“Plaintiff as a joint contributor to the composition is entitled to share equally with the other collaborators, absent any agreement to the contrary.” (citations omitted)). the court applied the default rule.

When the Copyright Act of 1976 was passed, it left unchanged court-made law on accounting responsibilities of joint authors to one another.47H.R. Rep. No. 94-1476, at 121 (1976). Courts had not yet addressed the question of how comparatively lesser a collaborator’s contribution could be while still being fairly entitled to the equal benefits of authorship. No court had given serious reconsideration to Maurel’s assertion that co-authors are entitled to equal shares of proceeds in the absence of a contract. The Copyright Act codified the criteria for joint authorship in Maurel,48Judge Hand further expanded upon Maurel’s analysis in Edward B. Marks Music Corp. v. Jerry Vogel Music Co., 140 F.2d 266 (2d Cir. 1944), in which joint authorship was used as a defense to an infringement action, and held that in a work originally intended to be joint, renewal of the copyright was to the whole work rather than its constituent elements—here the words and music of a song. The focus was on the nature of the work itself, rather than the mindset of the parties in relation to one another: because the words and music were intended to be performed as a single piece, joint authorship exists. Disregarding the relationship of the creating parties did, however, give rise to the notion that the parties themselves could be unknown to one another. Id. at 267. This is Judge Hand’s one innovation that was explicitly repudiated by the Copyright Act. See H.R. Rep. No. 94-1476, at 120 (1976) (emphasis added) (“The touchstone here is the intention, at the time the writing is done, that the parts be absorbed or combined into an integrated unit.”). requiring that collaborators have an intent to merge their contributions into a unitary whole.49See H.R. Rep. No. 94-1476, at 120 (1976) (“Under the definition of section 101, a work is ‘joint’ if the authors collaborated with each other, or if each of the authors prepared his or her contribution with the knowledge and intention that it would be merged with the contributions of other authors as ‘inseparable or interdependent parts of a unitary whole.’ ”).

B. Gatekeeping Against Lesser Contributors: From “Intent to Merge” to “Intent to be Co-Authors”

For the first decade after the Copyright Act of 1976 was passed, most courts followed a literal reading of the statute—and, per legislative history, the common law precedent—to decide joint authorship claims. The longstanding rule was that co-authors share equally in the benefits of co-authorship regardless of their relative contributions. Co-authorship rewards were potentially high, but the intent to merge standard for minting co-authors was low. Lesser contributors, with whom a work’s more significant authors may not have intended to collaborate,50For instance, if an author creates a work from one of their own previous joint works, does the “intent to merge” from the previous work carry over into the putative derivative work, joining the earlier co-author automatically? See Weissmann v. Freeman, 684 F. Supp. 1248, 1261 (S.D.N.Y. 1988), aff’d in part, rev’d in part, 868 F.2d 1313 (2d Cir. 1989) (finding a joint work in this fact pattern, which was overturned on appeal by a divided Second Circuit panel). or whose contributions were quantitatively small in comparison to their co-author’s,51See Fisher v. Klein, No. 86 CIV. 9522 (PNL), 1990 WL 10072477, at *1 (S.D.N.Y. June 26, 1990). The putative co-authors prevailed at the district court level in Fisher as in Weissmann. Id. at *19. While the Second Circuit’s doubts concerning Weissmann’s intent standard were addressed on appeal, Fisher was allowed to stand. Fisher, which had co-authorship turn on a “dominant author’s” intent to share authorship, was a major influence on the landmark Childress case, albeit to inhibit a finding of joint authorship rather than to support it. See Childress v. Taylor, 945 F.2d 500, 508 (2d Cir. 1991). were being granted co-authorship at the district court level, seeding frustration in the Second Circuit.

Beginning in the 1990s, courts heard a series of cases about creative works arising from joint efforts in which the disparities between the collaborators’ contributions were stark. Under the intent to merge statutory standard, they would nevertheless have been equal co-authors. Courts’ gut reaction to these cases was that equal co-authorship would be unfair.52Second Circuit courts had, on occasion, previously expressed concern with the relative contributions of the collaborators in joint authorship cases. See Kenbrooke Fabrics, Inc. v. Material Things, No. 82 CIV. 7187-CSH, 1984 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 15458, at *17–24 (S.D.N.Y. June 28, 1984); Picture Music, Inc. v. Bourne, Inc., 314 F. Supp. 640, 647 (S.D.N.Y. 1970). Primary creators, it was perceived, would not want to share equal proceeds with collaborators who had made lesser contributions to the work;53This is the implication behind the observation in Childress, not further explained by the court, that the “equal sharing of rights should be reserved for relationships in which all participants fully intend to be joint authors.” Childress, 945 F.2d at 509. When one author is a “dominant author,” it is “especially important.” Id. at 508. Why? The unspoken assumption—unspoken because it seems unquestionable—is that a majority contributor would naturally not want to share equally with someone who made a much smaller contribution. To overcome this “common sense” view requires a strong showing to the contrary. if forced by the law to do so, they would be disincentivized to collaborate out of fear of sharing authorship.54See Erickson v. Trinity Theatre, Inc., 13 F.3d 1061, 1069 (7th Cir. 1994).

But equal co-authorship was well entrenched in the law. Modifying collaborators’ co-authorship shares to reflect their relative contributions was not an option under consideration. Instead, courts granted a prerogative to greater contributors to share, or not share, co-authorship with a work’s lesser contributors. This was given effect by adding a mutual intent to be co-authors requirement to the statutory intent to merge and necessary independently copyrightable contributions.55Copyrightable works are “original works of authorship fixed in any tangible medium of expression.” 17 U.S.C. § 102(a) (2016). “[M]usical works, including any accompanying words,” are one category of works of authorship. Id. § 102(a)(2). A work may be fixed in a “copy or phonorecord.” Id. § 101. For a discussion of the originality requirement as it pertains to musical compositions, see infra notes 159–63. In joint works, an ongoing area of dispute is whether contributions need to satisfy a “non-de minimis” standard or should be independently copyrightable: these approaches are associated with Professors Melville and David Nimmer (the “Nimmer standard”), 1 Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 30, § 6.07, at 6-20 to 6-21, and Paul Goldstein (the “Goldstein standard”), Paul Goldstein & P. Brent Hugenholtz, International Copyright 248 (2d ed. 2010), respectively. Most circuits follow the latter standard. These cases proposed that evidence of the parties’ subjective intentions to be co-authors could be inferred from, for instance, how the work was billed or credited.

C. Introduction of the Control Doctrine

While the intent to be co-authors test raised the bar for co-authorship, it did not foreclose it.56Furthermore, it wasn’t until Thomson v. Larson, 147 F.3d 195, 202 (2d Cir. 1998) that the Childress analysis was held to apply to fact patterns in which lesser contributions were “major,” or of a type that would be independently copyrightable. This led to the “conundrum” of Thomson having made independently copyrightable contributions on a non-work-made-for-hire basis to a work of which she was not an author. Id. at 205. The pressing question (if Thomson was not a co-author of the work, could she then enjoin the Larson heirs from producing Rent with the lines she contributed?) was avoided by the court on procedural grounds and formed the basis of subsequent litigation. See Jesse McKinley, Family of ‘Rent’ Creator Settles Suit Over Authorship, N.Y. Times (Sept. 10, 1998), https://www.nytimes.com/
1998/09/10/theater/family-of-rent-creator-settles-suit-over-authorship.html [https://perma.cc/MV99-HPTA]. This issue appears never to have been resolved in the circuit. See Kwan v. Schlein, No. 05 CIV. 0459 (SHS) (JCF), 2009 WL 10678967, at *5 (S.D.N.Y. Apr. 23, 2009) (“[W]hile it seems clear that Ms. Kwan is not a co-author, it is possible that, if her contributions were great enough, she might own a copyright as sole author in the portions she wrote.”).
A new requirement for co-authorship, a need to have control over the whole work, was invented. In the Seventh Circuit,57Erickson, 13 F.3d at 1064. it was framed as additional and necessary evidence of the mutual intent test for joint authorship. In the Ninth Circuit, it was framed as a new test of authorship, without which, as before, there could be no question of joint authorship—regardless of the extent of one’s copyrightable contribution.58A common approach in this line of cases was for the court to dismiss lesser contributions as “suggestions.” Erickson, 13 F.3d at 1072; Childress, 945 F.2d at 509; see also Thomson, 147 F.3d at 206 (defendant brief refers to plaintiff’s independently copyrightable contributions as “suggestions”). “Suggestions” says nothing as to the copyrightability of those contributions; it makes their relevance turn on their relationship to the control factor. Later cases would arguably turn on “control,” often to the near-complete exclusion of copyrightability considerations. In Aalmuhammed v. Lee,59Aalmuhammed v. Lee, 202 F.3d 1227 (9th Cir. 2000). appellant Jefri Aalmuhammed served (without a contract) as an Islamic consultant on the Warner Brothers film Malcolm X. In addition to these services, he made comparatively minor scriptwriting and directorial contributions that were included in the completed film. These contributions would have been independently copyrightable.60Id. at 1231. All creative contributors intended that their contributions were to be merged into the whole,61Id. satisfying the statutory intent test. The panel voiced concern that dominant authors would be deterred from beneficial collaboration if they had to share the benefits of authorship with a co-author whose contributions were substantially less,62Id. at 1235 (“Progress would be retarded rather than promoted, if an author could not consult with others and adopt their useful suggestions without sacrificing sole ownership of the work. Too open a definition of author would compel authors to insulate themselves and maintain ignorance of the contributions others might make.”). Referencing Childress’s description of the putative co-author’s contributions in that case as merely “some form of assistance,” id. (citing Childress, 945 F.2d at 504), the Aalmuhammed court envisioned a parade of horribles likely to follow if lesser contributors were granted co-authorship in joint works: “Claimjumping by research assistants, editors, and former spouses, lovers and friends would endanger authors who talked with people about what they were doing . . . .” Aalmuhammed, 202 F.3d at 1235–36. The work in the case at hand, Aalmuhammed’s work, fit into none of those suspect classifications. Here, the court is groping at a basis for a potential standard for when joint authorship is likely intended: note that the court appears to see the existence of a close relationship as indicative of a lack of co-authorship intent. strongly implying that on policy grounds they sought a construction of authorship that would exclude Aalmuhammed. As evidence against the existence of a mutual intent to be co-authors, the Ninth Circuit adopted the control concept introduced by the Seventh Circuit.63See id. at 1233 n.24. Focusing on Spike Lee’s control over including Aalmuhammed’s contributions in the film,64Id. at 1235 (“Aalmuhammed did not at any time have superintendence of the work. Warner Brothers and Spike Lee controlled it.” (citation omitted)). control was elevated as the most important factor needed to find there had been an intent to be co-authors.

Since Aalmuhammed, in the absence of a contract, lesser contributors’ joint authorship claims have turned on evidence establishing that they exercised control. As the joint authorship test for the Ninth Circuit,65Modern cases cite typically to Richlin v. Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Pictures, Inc., 531 F.3d 962, 968 (9th Cir. 2008), which restated the Aalmuhammed factors as a concise test:

First, we determine whether the “putative co-authors ma[de] objective manifestations of a shared intent to be co-authors.” A contract evidencing intent to be or not to be coauthors is dispositive. Second, we determine whether the alleged author superintended the work by exercising control. Control will often be the most important factor. Third, we analyze whether “the audience appeal of the work” can be attributed to both authors, and whether “the share of each in its success cannot be appraised.”

Id. (citations omitted). In the absence of a contract, “control” or lack thereof is generally sufficient for determining co-authorship intent. To date, no case has turned on the “audience appeal” factor. For a comprehensive discussion of audience appeal’s role in joint authorship cases, see Timothy J. McFarlin, Shouting the People: Authorship and Audience in Copyright, 93 Tul. L. Rev. 443, 469–79 (2019). it has been applied in songwriting joint authorship cases,66In Ford v. Ray, 130 F. Supp. 3d 1358, 1363 (W.D. Wash. 2015), the putative co-author had allegedly contributed the beat that was the “basis for the song” and scratching for the chorus and solos. Applying Aalmuhammed, his claim was defeated because he lacked control over the whole composition, there were no objective manifestations of shared intent, and the court drew no conclusion on the audience appeal prong though he had allegedly contributed the beat that was the “basis for the song” and scratching for the chorus and solos. Id. at 1363–64. In addition to the plaintiff having waited too long to bring the claim, the court clearly did not countenance that a lesser contributor could fairly expect to be entitled to co-authorship status. Id. The court’s comments normatively take for granted that co-authorship for lesser co-authors is at the discretion of the dominant author, characterizing the plaintiff as “motivated by an unfair desire to cash in on the efforts of another.” Id. at 1364; see also Robertson v. Burdon, No. ED CV18-00397 JAK (SHKx), 2019 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 85468, at *19 (C.D. Cal. Apr. 3, 2019) (“The allegations . . . support the inference that [the plaintiff] and [the defendant] shared an intent that the songs would be written together.”). more often than not,67In a case involving three putative co-songwriters, Taylor v. Universal Music Corp., No. CV 13-06412 RGK (AJWx), 2014 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 195775, at *8–10 (C.D. Cal. Mar. 10, 2014), the district court appeared to require (at most) a lessened Aalmuhammed standard for a joint authorship claim to survive a motion to strike. (The standard was applied in full to the related sound recording.) The court referenced dicta in Aalmuhammed, similarly present in Childress, that “traditional” forms of joint authorship, for instance involving the music and lyrics of a song, might not require a full Aalmuhammed inquiry. See id. at *4 (citing Aalmuhammed, 202 F.3d at 1232); cf. Childress, 945 F.2d at 508 (“[Whether the putative joint authors regarded themselves as joint authors] requires less exacting consideration in the context of traditional forms of collaboration, such as between the creators of the words and music of a song.”). This is the only case I have found in which a court operating under the control standard was willing to consider the dicta that the test should perhaps be less stringent when involving traditional forms of co-authorship. although the former was discouraged by the Aalmuhammed court in dicta.68See Aalmuhammed, 202 F.3d at 1232 (“It is also easy to apply the word [“author”] to two people who work together in a fairly traditional pen-and-ink way, like, perhaps, Gilbert and Sullivan. . . . But as the number of contributors grows and the work itself becomes less the product of one or two individuals who create it without much help, the word is harder to apply.”). In practice, control has meant control over the whole work,69See id. at 1233 (“Burrow-Giles defines author as the person to whom the work owes its origin and who superintended the whole work, the ‘master mind.’ ” (citing Burrow-Giles Lithographic Co. v. Sarony, 111 U.S. 53 (1884))); see also Moi v. Chihuly Studio, Inc., No. C17-0853RSL, 2019 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 103576, at *9 (W.D. Wash. June 20, 2019); Beautiful Slides, Inc. v. Allen, No. 17-cv-01091-MMC, 2018 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 226907, at *8 (N.D. Cal. Sept. 7, 2018) (“[The defendant] contends she ‘had her roles for which she had nearly exclusive control’ . . . .”). though a minority position has found control over “separate and indispensable elements of the completed product” to meet the control requirement.70Reinsdorf v. Skechers U.S.A., 922 F. Supp. 2d 866, 872 (C.D. Cal. 2013) (quoting Morrill v. Smashing Pumpkins, 157 F. Supp. 2d 1120, 1124 (C.D. Cal. 2001)). But see Heger v. Kiki Tree Pictures, Inc., No. CV 17-03810 SJO (Ex), 2017 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 237195, at *13–16 (C.D. Cal. July 24, 2017) (explicitly repudiating this interpretation). More recently, there are also signs that the Aalmuhammed-like concept of control is resonating with other circuits and trumping creative contribution considerations.71In 16 Casa Duse, LLC v. Merkin, 791 F.3d 247, 252–53 (2d Cir. 2015), a director claimed joint authorship in a film in which the producer (as in Aalmuhammed) had failed to secure a work for hire agreement. The Second Circuit held that the “dispositive inquiry is which of the putative authors is the ‘dominant author,’ ” and cited the four Thomson factors—decisionmaking authority, billing or credit, agreements with third parties, and other evidence—in making the determination. Id. at 260. But whereas in Thomson the dominant author was found to be the one who contributed the significant majority of independently copyrightable material, Casa Duse’s authorship was predicated on an Aalmuhammed­like control standard, in which authorship requires no independently copyrightable creative contribution: “Casa Duse initiated the project; acquired the rights to the screenplay; selected the cast, crew and director; controlled the production schedule; and coordinated (or attempted to coordinate) the film’s publicity and release.” Id. The court held that these contributions represented greater control over the project than did the contributions of the director and therefore awarded sole authorship to the production company. Id. at 261; see also Anthony J. Casey & Andres Sawicki, The Problem of Creative Collaboration, 58 Wm. & Mary L. Rev. 1793, 1835 (2017) (“The court created the fiction of a dominant author and then that label was bestowed on the party exercising the fewest acts of creative authorship. It had to do this to consolidate formal ownership and authorship . . . .” (citation omitted)).

In Corwin v. Quinonez, 858 F. Supp. 2d 903, 912 (N.D. Ohio 2012), the plaintiff band member’s contributions to sound recordings were denied joint authorship status due to lack of mutual intent with the defendant band leader, principally under the control standard: the defendant did not “cede[] control of the recordings to Plaintiff” and “made the final decision of what [was] used for the song.” As in Aalmuhammed, the language used by the court here presupposes a single author despite the undeniably collaborative nature of the work. Corwin cites principally to Erickson v. Trinity Theatre, Inc., 13 F.3d 1061 (7th Cir. 1994), but also to Janky v. Lake Cnty. Convention & Visitors Bureau, 576 F.3d 356 (7th Cir. 2009). In Janky, the Seventh Circuit found joint authorship in a case in which the putative co-songwriter likely did not make an independently copyrightable contribution, see Janky, 576 F.3d at 364 (Ripple, J., dissenting), partly on the theory that the co-author “wielded considerable control over what the song finally looked like,” id. at 362. (Janky followed the earlier Gaiman v. McFarlane, 360 F.3d 644 (7th Cir. 2004) in repudiating, at least in certain circumstances, the Seventh Circuit’s longstanding adherence to the Goldstein standard.) Janky is, for now, the exception that tests the rule that the control standard is strictly a one-way ratchet for denying joint authorship claims. Its legacy across the circuits may be to serve as a means of granting authorship within the control framework to a party who has made no copyrightable contribution, and possibly no creative contribution at all. But the general consequence of the expanding influence of the control standard is that lesser contributors are blocked from the equal sharing of authorship, and lacking authorship, have no entitlements in the absence of a contract.72On very rare occasions, as in Aalmuhammed itself, unrewarded creative contributors have been allowed to pursue recovery under unjust enrichment or similar theories, although rarely with success. See, e.g., Ahn v. Midway Mfg. Co., 965 F. Supp. 1134, 1140 (N.D. Ill. 1997); Cabrera v. Teatro Del Sesenta, Inc., 914 F. Supp. 743, 769 (D.P.R. 1995). But see Lopez v. Musinorte Ent. Corp., 434 F. App’x 696, 699 (9th Cir. 2011) (upholding a jury award in which one member of a five-member band had received one-fifth of the band’s profits and future royalties). In the two circuits most consequential for the copyright industries,73As discussed supra, influential rulings in joint authorship issue primarily from the Ninth and Second Circuits. The Ninth (32.38%) and Second (16.71%) are also the two circuits that produce the largest volume of copyright litigation. Christopher A. Cotropia & James Gibson, Copyright’s Topography: An Empirical Study of Copyright Litigation, 92 Tex. L. Rev. 1981, 2000 (2014). The districts in which most of these cases originate (the Central District of California and the Southern District of New York) disproportionately find for the defendants in copyright cases. Id. at 2008. Three out of four plaintiffs in the Central District of California (77.46%) are “individuals or small firms.” Id. The most common type of copyright registration for individuals is “text and music” (that is, songs). Dotan Oliar, Nathaniel Patterson & K. Ross Powell, Copyright Registrations: Who, What, When, Where, and Why, 92 Tex. L. Rev. 2211, 2214 (2014). there is now a trend toward finding works to be single-authored.

The intent to be co-authors test, which replaced the intent to merge test, and the control doctrine, itself designed to further strengthen the intent to be co-authors test, are widely regarded by scholars as suboptimal. Courts aspired to recognize the interests of both lesser and greater contributors, but existing law was understood to force an all-or-nothing choice between the two groups.74That is, if the desired end was co-authorship of a joint work. Recovery less than “all” but more than “nothing” could potentially have been pursued through a claim of copyright infringement. Indeed, it is by analogy to recovery in infringement that scholars have advanced the possibility of proportional recovery in joint authorship. See Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 30, § 6.08. Joint authorship typically arises in litigation as an affirmative defense to copyright infringement. In the leading cases, infringement claims are rarely advanced. This may be because, applying the analogy to infringement damages, recovery in most cases would not be worth the cost of litigation. But when it is undeniable that the creator contributed independently copyrightable material, a significant question is whether, absent an agreement to the contrary, they retain a separate copyright interest in that material. The retention of such a right in a commercial work would place significant pressure on the majority owner to settle to avoid hold-up costs. That is in fact how the Thomson case was ultimately resolved, and likely explains the ruling in Casa Duse that a director had no copyright interest in the film footage that he shot. The consequences of exclusion from co-authorship for lesser contributors include leaving them uncompensated for their work. Also of concern is the disordering effect of these standards on author identification, a central goal of copyright law. Goldstein criticizes the control standard as being “both overinclusive and under-inclusive.”75Goldstein, supra note 9, § 4.2.1.2, at 4:18.3. It allows contributors primarily of non-copyrightable expression, such as film producers, to be recognized as authors. At the same time, it complicates the identification of the authors of most other multi-authored works.

D. Scholarly Positions

Scholars generally agree that lesser contributors who make copyrightable contributions should be counted as co-authors.76In contrast to the courts, scholars often express concern over disincentivizing effects of joint authorship law on lesser contributors. See Abraham Bell & Gideon Parchomovsky, Copyright Trust, 100 Cornell L. Rev. 1015, 1020–21 (2015); Gregory N. Mandel, Left-Brain Versus Right-Brain: Competing Conceptions of Creativity in Intellectual Property Law, 44 U.C. Davis L. Rev. 283, 349–50 (2010); Jennifer Yamin, Note, Analyzing Aalmuhammed v. Lee in the Context of Entertainment Industry Employment, 8 NYU J. Intell. Prop. & Ent. L. 91, 114 (2018). Arguments in favor of authorship for lesser contributors are often subsumed within arguments in favor of proportionality, typically on fairness or efficiency grounds. See Mandel, supra, at 353 (“The outcomes would be more efficient because they would provide the proper incentives to potential collaborators . . . . The outcomes would be more equitable because each joint creator would be rewarded in appropriate proportion to his or her contribution.”). Other objections are purely legal: specifically, that nothing in the Copyright Act or the circumstances surrounding its enactment supports the idea that authorship requires equal contributions. See Mary LaFrance, Authorship, Dominance, and the Captive Collaborator: Preserving the Rights of Joint Authors, 50 Emory L.J. 193, 232 (2001). Beyond that, scholars are divided into two camps with respect to how the law ought to treat them vis-à-vis their majority contributing co-authors.

One camp would retain the equal split default while granting equal shares to lesser co-authors.77Professor Mary LaFrance offers this proposal: “Where [the] contribution is substantial as well as independently copyrightable, joint authorship should be presumed, and a party seeking to rebut that presumption would be required to show that the contribution in question was incorporated into the finished work under an express or implied derivative work license.” LaFrance, supra note 76, at 203. Goldstein would apply the plain language of the statute and allow equal ownership to all contributors of independently copyrightable material if they intended to merge their contributions in a unitary whole. If Warner Brothers does not want to share equal ownership in Malcolm X with Aalmuhammed, it should not fail to negotiate with him for the value of his services—and be more careful in the future.78Contra 1 Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 30, § 6.08 (“If the only choice that the court faced was between making Aalmuhammed a half-owner or a non-owner of the resulting film, then that hard case would understandably force the bad law of the latter result.” (citation omitted)); Anthony J. Casey & Andres Sawicki, Copyright in Teams, 80 U. Chi. L. Rev. 1683, 1721 (2014). Goldstein also offers a less radical compromise, consistent with the logic of Childress, suggesting that courts could find an implied transfer of copyright ownership on the basis of the nature of the relationship between the collaborators. Goldstein, supra note 9, § 4.2.1.1. The example given is the editor and author relationship: editors rarely expect to share joint authorship in the work they edit. Similarly, given the prevalence of work for hire agreements in the film industry, it could fairly be said that Aalmuhammed did not expect to be a joint author of Malcolm X. However, Aalmuhammed testified that he approached an executive producer seeking credit as a screenwriter and was told “there is nothing I can do for you,” but that they would discuss the matter in the future. Aalmuhammed v. Lee, 202 F.3d 1227, 1231 (9th Cir. 2000). Goldstein levels similar criticisms of the extra-statutory introduction of the intent to be co-authors and control requirements to the Copyright Act’s intent language.79See Goldstein, supra note 9, § 4.2.1.1. While the statutory intent (intent to merge) approach “will sometimes give an economic interest to a contributor . . . who probably did not intend to receive it,” the Copyright Act should not be distorted to protect the economic interests of dominant contributors.80Id. A better outcome is for dominant contributors to bear the burden of adjusting shares via contract to avoid an undesired equal split.81Childress places that burden on the nondominant contributor. See Childress v. Taylor, 945 F.2d 500, 507 (2d Cir. 1991).

The other camp of scholars focuses on courts’ unease with non-equal contributors receiving equal authorship rights as the source of courts’ statute-distorting jurisprudence. This camp would endorse lesser co-authors receiving a lesser split.82See, e.g., Mandel, supra note 76, at 353–57. The shared assumption of this camp—that if lesser contributors reap financial rewards greater than their contributions seem to merit, majority contributors will be disincentivized and creative production will suffer as a result—is rarely questioned.83Paying high- and low-performing workers the same leads high performers to lower their efforts. Jason D. Shaw, Pay Dispersion, 1 Ann. Rev. Org. Psych. & Org. Behav. 521 (2014). The inefficiency of equal pay is widely accepted. There is an assumption that fairness has an important role to play in economic productivity. But there is more to the psychology of linking compensation to contributions than simply motivating cool-headed, rational workers. The sentiment held by many is that a contribution-based default should be established because fairness requires a correspondence84Perhaps intuitions are less strict than absolute proportionality, but they would at least require that the individual who contributed the most received the most; the individual who contributed the second most, the second most; and so on: that fairness requires a rank order between inputs and outputs. between inputs and outputs.85Aristotle, who noted that “in acts of justice what is equal in the primary sense is that which is in proportion to merit, while quantitative equality is secondary,” was an early proponent of this construction of fairness. Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics 151 (David Ross trans., Oxford World’s Classics ed. 2009). This dynamic between inputs and outputs is referred to as “equity” in justice studies; in sociology it has been called the “principle of differentiation”; in organizational behavior, “pay dispersion.” The boundaries of the concept shift only slightly across disciplines. See Morton Deutsch, Equity, Equality, and Need: What Determines Which Value Will Be Used as the Basis of Distributive Justice?, 31 J. Soc. Issues 137, 143 (1975); Jennifer L. Hochschild, What’s Fair: American Beliefs About Distributive Justice 111 (1986); Shaw, supra note 83.

There are two main approaches, which hold in common that it is possible to make adjustments to existing joint authorship law.86Other scholars propose alternate regimes that allow for proportional recovery. See Bell & Parchamovsky, supra note 76 (proposing a “copyright trust” that would allow for one controller of the work while contributors divided profits in proportion); Casey & Sawicki, supra note 78, at 1725 (separate authorship from ownership and grant ownership to the joint work’s “team manager”); Rochelle Cooper Dreyfuss, Commodifying Collaborative Research, in The Commodification of Information 397, 412 (Niva Elkin-Koren & Neil W. Netanel eds., 2002) (allow proportionality via “collaborative work[s]” that are not work for hire but fail the joint authorship test); Russ VerSteeg, Intent, Originality, Creativity and Joint Authorship, 68 Brook. L. Rev. 123, 179 (2002) (allow proportional recovery in quantum meruit if joint authorship is objectively unreasonable). The proposed implementation which has attracted the most scholarly support is a rebuttable presumption of equality.87See Brief of Professors Shyamkrishna Balganesh. Justin Hughes, Peter Menell, and David Nimmer as Amici Curiae in Support of Neither Party at 28–29, Garcia v. Google, Inc., 786 F.3d 733 (2015); Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 30, § 6.08 (2019); Hughes, supra note 31, at 65–67 (2019); Roberta Rosenthal Kwall, “Author-Stories”: Narrative’s Implications for Moral Rights and Copyright’s Joint Authorship Doctrine, 75 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1, 58 (2001); Benjamin E. Jaffe, Rebutting the Equality Principle: Adapting the Co-Tenancy Law Model to Enhance the Remedies Available to Joint Copyright Owners, 32 Cardozo L. Rev. 1549 (2011). This may be because it receives textual support in the legislative history88“Under the bill, as under the present law, coowners of a copyright would be treated generally as tenants in common, with each coowner having an independent right to use or license the use of a work, subject to a duty of accounting to the other coowners for any profits.” H.R. Rep. No. 94-1476, at 121 (1976). and is drawn from the analogy of joint authorship with real property tenancy in common. In such cases, while undivided equal shares are the default, co-owners may rebut that presumption by showing that unequal contributions had been made to the purchase price. This would allow unequal shares to be awarded if there is evidence the co-authors’ contributions were unequal. Aalmuhammed’s contributions to Malcolm X could be determined by experts to have been responsible for some small fraction of the film’s success, and he could be compensated accordingly.89What is often left unexplained with these proposals is whether lesser contributors would only be entitled to royalties in proportion to their contribution, or whether they would have full authorial rights, such as the right to license the work on a nonexclusive basis. A smaller group of scholars, perhaps relying on the silence of the Copyright Act as to shares in the copyrighted work, argue that proportionality should be the default rule in all joint authorship cases. For these scholars, fairness, as they believe it to be perceived, is a paramount concern. If songwriters prefer to split equally even when a co-author makes a lesser contribution, it would be a challenge to this notion of fairness.

II. WHAT SHOULD BE DONE?

How should we choose whether to reject the intent to be co-authors and control doctrines and instead include lesser contributors as co-authors? And if we do decide to include lesser contributors as co-authors, what would be the most efficient rule for splitting revenue between joint authors: retaining the equal split, or revising it to be contributions-based? With respect to the first issue to be decided, it is possible, if unlikely, that most creators would prefer lesser creators to be excluded from co-authorship and simply paid for their services. Often in collaboration situations where the parties do not have a contract or the contract is silent about co-authorship shares, which is when the default joint authorship rules apply, a main creator will not have funds to pay lesser contributors in advance for services, and the unevenness of contributions may not be clear until the joint work is complete.

With respect to the second question, some would argue that well-established common law default rules are presumptively efficient90See Richard A. Hillman, The Richness of Contract Law 225 (1997) (noting the standard view that the rule most parties would want is synonymous with the efficient rule). because they have been accepted by parties across contexts over time.91See Alan Schwartz & Robert E. Scott, The Common Law of Contract and the Default Rule Project, 102 Va. L. Rev. 1523, 1585–86 (2016) (“[E]nduring common law rules have to be transcontextual; that is, they must be satisfactory to parties over broad sections of the economy. . . . [F]ew rules can satisfy the structural requirement that they are (almost) everywhere applicable just because commercial parties (almost) everywhere like them.”). The control doctrine did not arise to thwart the equal split rule for nearly a century.92The tenure of the equal split rule is comparably long to the cohort of common law contract default rules argued to have stood the test of time as trans-contextually acceptable to parties and therefore efficient. See id. at 1535. It has similarly satisfied the criteria of having been applied and accepted in different industry contexts. See, e.g., Greene v. Ablon, 794 F.3d 133 (1st Cir. 2015) (scholarship); Brownstein v. Lindsay, 742 F.3d 55 (3d Cir. 2014) (software); Berman v. Johnson, 518 F. Supp. 2d 791 (E.D. Va. 2007), aff’d, 315 F. App’x 461 (4th Cir. 2009) (film); Gordon v. Lee, No. 1:05-CV-2162-JFK, 2007 WL 1450403 (N.D. Ga. May 14, 2007) (architecture); Words & Data, Inc. v. GTE Commc’ns Servs., Inc., 765 F. Supp. 570 (W.D. Mo. 1991) (business); Strauss v. Hearst Corp., No. 85 CIV. 10017 (CSH), 1988 WL 18932 (S.D.N.Y. Feb. 19, 1988) (advertising); Fishing Concepts, Inc. v. Ross, 226 U.S.P.Q. 692, 696 (D. Minn. 1985) (advertising); Mister B Textiles, Inc. v. Woodcrest Fabrics, Inc., 523 F. Supp. 21 (S.D.N.Y. 1981) (textiles); Donna v. Dodd, Mead & Co., 374 F. Supp. 429, 430 (S.D.N.Y. 1974) (literature); Noble v. D. Van Nostrand Co., 164 A.2d 834 (N.J. Super. Ct. Ch. Div. 1960) (scholarship); G. Ricordi & Co. v. Columbia Graphophone Co., 258 F. 72 (S.D.N.Y. 1919) (music). The expansive treatment of work made for hire under the Copyright Act of 1909 may have forestalled potential joint authorship claims and thus challenges to the equal split. On the other hand, the equal split rule’s detractors regard as self-evident that it is unfair and unpopular. The suboptimality of the equal split default feels like a frictionless assumption. Proportional compensation is the norm in wage labor contexts, which are related but distinct.93Shaw notes: “Moreover, theories purportedly supporting the benefits of pay compression do not, in a general sense, advocate equal pay for unequal work. . . . [E]ven Pfeffer’s (1998) simplified practitioner-oriented treatment, which advocates pay compression as a best practice, also extols individual pay-for-performance as something organizations should universally adopt.” Shaw, supra note 83, at 534 (citing Jeffrey Pfeffer, Competitive Advantage Through People: Unleashing the Power of the Work Force (1994)). It is not clear what inputs are, but they are somehow quantitative and contextually determined. Often there is an assumption that focal inputs should be those antecedents with a more direct link to outcomes. See Robert Folger, Rethinking Equity Theory, in Justice in Social Relations 145 (Hans Werner Bierhoff, Ronald L. Cohen & Jerald Greenberg eds., 1986).

The traditional view is that an efficient default reflects the preferences of “most contracting parties—or perhaps most contracting parties in a given industry.”94Russell Korobkin, The Status Quo Bias and Contract Default Rules, 83 Cornell L. Rev. 608, 616 (1998). The universe of possible contracting parties in this case is those creative collaborators who would potentially contract with one another over the division of license proceeds. This universe consists principally of
co-songwriters. The core copyright industries include literature, music, theater, film, the media, photography, software, visual arts, and advertising.95The World Intellectual Property Organization (“WIPO”) identifies the core copyright industries as those “wholly engaged in the creation, production and manufacture, performance, broadcasting, communication and exhibition, or distribution and sale of work and other protected subject matter.” World Intell. Prop. Org., Guide on Surveying the Economic Contribution of the Copyright Industries 51 (2015), https://www.wipo.int/edocs/pubdocs/en/copyright/893/wipo_pub_
893.pdf [https://perma.cc/E8AD-9ZQ7]. These include literature, music, theatre, film, the media, photography, software, visual arts, advertising services, and collective management societies. Id. at 52–53.
Collaborative creative production has been on the rise across all of the core copyright industries, but it nevertheless accounts for a very small proportion of output (<0.5%) in most of the visual arts96Approximately 500,000 pieces of contemporary art—works of “painting, sculpture, drawing, photography, prints, installation & video” created by artists born after 1945—were sold at auction in the last decade. See The Contemporary Art Market Report 2018, Artprice, https://www.artprice.
com/artprice-reports/the-contemporary-art-market-report-2018 [https://perma.cc/4S6J-W2JS]. The Museum of Modern Art (“MoMA”) Collection dataset (“MoMA dataset”) contains records of nearly 200,000 artworks and their creators, including dates of birth and death, year of creation, artwork type, and date of creation. See The Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) Collection, Github, https://github.com/MuseumofModernArt/collection [https://perma.cc/Z2H8-CDD4]. Filtering the dataset for contemporary artists (artists born 1945 or later) returns 21,238 works, 20,952 of which were created by a single artist, or a co-authorship rate of 1.3%. Extrapolating based on the Artprice data, approximately 6,500 pieces of co-authored art have been auctioned over the last ten years.
(for example, fine art,9710/2358 (“Painting” Classification) in MoMA dataset. The Museum of Modern Art (MoMA) Collection, supra note 96. sculpture,9816/1725 (“Sculpture” Classification) in MoMA dataset. Id. and photography991449/31730 (“Photography” Classification) in MoMA dataset. Id.). The rate is higher, albeit still very low, in literature and theater. In music, however, the co-authorship rate of songs100Hereinafter, “songs” refers to songs listed in performance rights organization databases. is 37%.101See infra Section IV.B. Copyright works are much more likely to be produced through collaboration in the film, software,102See Patrick Cauldwell, Code Leader: Using People, Tools, and Processes to Build Successful Software xxi (2008) (noting that “almost all software projects” are written by teams of programmers). and music103See supra note 101 and accompanying text. industries, and in academia.104Approximately 3 million articles are published yearly in scholarly peer-reviewed English-language journals. Rob Johnson, Anthony Watkinson & Michael Mabe, The STM Report: An Overview of Scientific and Scholarly Publishing 5 (5th ed. 2018), https://www.stm-assoc.org/2018_10_04_STM_Report_2018.pdf. Outside of the humanities, the vast majority of scholarly articles are co-authored. See Smriti Mallapaty, Paper Authorship Goes Hyper, Nature Index (Jan. 30, 2018), https://www.natureindex.com/news-blog/paper-authorship-goes-hyper [https://perma.cc/27AH-P6P9]. However, in all but the music industry, the joint authorship default rules are for the most part inapplicable.

There are two reasons for this. First of all, only authors can be joint authors. This means that whenever collaborators’ works are officially “authored” by their employer,105As set forth by statute,

In the case of a work made for hire, the employer or other person for whom the work was prepared is considered the author for purposes of this title, and, unless the parties have expressly agreed otherwise in a written instrument signed by them, owns all of the rights comprised in the copyright.

17 U.S.C § 201(b) (2016). the default rules are not relevant.106The Copyright Act defines a work made for hire as,

a work prepared by an employee within the scope of his or her employment; or . . . a work specially ordered or commissioned for use as a contribution to a collective work, as a part of a motion picture or other audiovisual work, as a translation, as a supplementary work, as a compilation, as an instructional text, as a test, as answer material for a test, or as an atlas, if the parties expressly agree in a written instrument signed by them that the work shall be considered a work made for hire.

17 U.S.C. § 101 (2016). Work for hire arrangements are not generally practiced in the music industry,107Modern courts have not typically held musicians to be employees of their record labels. See Daniel Gould, Time’s Up: Copyright Termination, Work-for-Hire and the Recording Industry, 31 Colum. J.L. & Arts 91, 109 (2007). Sound recordings, mentioned elsewhere in the Act, are also notably absent from the list of works made for hire, a circumstance which has generated considerable scholarly comment. See, e.g., Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 30, § 5.03; Gould, supra, at 108 (2007); Mary LaFrance, Authorship and Termination Rights in Sound Recordings, 75 S. Cal. L. Rev. 375, 379 (2002). Sound recordings have been held not to fall under the “audiovisual work” label. Lulirama Ltd. v. Axcess Broad. Servs., Inc., 128 F.3d 872, 878 (5th Cir. 1997). Works made for hire are otherwise confined strictly to the categories of work enumerated in section 101. See Cmty. for Creative Non-Violence v. Reid, 490 U.S. 730, 748 (1989). Even when music is composed as a work made for hire, royalties are distributed to the actual author per ASCAP rules. Robert Brauneis, Copyright and the World’s Most Popular Song, 56 J. Copyright Soc’y U.S.A. 335, 411 (2009). but they are the norm in film108See Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 30, § 6.05 n.19 (“The reality is that contracts and the work-made-for-hire doctrine govern much of the big-budget Hollywood performance and production world.” (quoting Garcia v. Google, Inc., 786 F.3d 733, 743 (9th Cir. 2015))). and software. (The stakes for Warner Brothers in Aalmuhammed illustrate why.) Second, in academia, journal articles, which comprise the bulk of academic publishing,109Academic journal revenue is roughly three times larger than that of academic book publication. See Johnson et al., supra note 104, at 22. Over 3 million science, technology, and medicine (“STM”) scholarly articles are published per year. Id. at 5. as a matter of course reassign royalty streams from creators to publishers.110See Ann Okerson, With Feathers: Effects of Copyright and Ownership on Scholarly Publishing, 52 Coll. & Rsch. Libr. 425, 427–28 (1991). The open access movement opposes assigning copyrights to paywalling publishers, but even under an open access model the publishing royalties would still be inconsequential for authors, albeit for a different reason.111While authors typically retain their copyrights in the work under an open access regime, the works are often published under royalty-free licenses. See Giancarlo Frosio, Open Access Publishing: A Literature Review 98 (Ctr. For Copyright & New Bus. Models in the Creative Econ., Working Paper 2014/1), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=2697412 [https://perma.cc/UJ6L-7W4X]. These practices—work for hire and publisher assignments—cover two paths to corporate ownership of copyrightable work and most contexts of creation in film, the media, software, and advertising.112See Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 30, § 6.05 n.19 (“The reality is that contracts and the work-made-for-hire doctrine govern much of the big-budget Hollywood performance and production world.” (quoting Garcia v. Google, Inc., 786 F.3d 733, 743 (9th Cir. 2015))).

A. The Unique Relevance of Co-Songwriting

Songwriting is not included in the categories of creative work covered by work for hire.113See 17 U.S.C. § 101 (2016). Typically, musicians who are signed by record labels will be paid an advance against future royalties.114These are often structured as funds, which combine the recording budget with advances against royalties in a lump sum, but traditional advances are still utilized. See Donald S. Passman, All You Need to Know About the Music Business 111 (9th ed. 2015). In exchange, most artists transfer the copyrights to their recordings (“the masters”) to the label. See id. at 211. However, in those cases, this is not an assignment of ownership of their songwriting copyrights to the labels.115Songwriters often sign away a portion of their songwriting copyrights to publishers through co-publishing agreements. See id. at 235; Jill A. Michael, Music Copublishing and the Mysterious ‘Writer’s Share,’ 20 Ent. & Sports L. 13, 14 (2002). Record labels may also take a portion of the songwriting copyright, or the proceeds thereof, as part of a “360 deal.” See Edward Pierson, Negotiating a 360 Deal: Considerations on the Promises and Perils of a New Music Business Model, 27 Ent. & Sports L. 1, 34 (2010). So co-songwriters, as a matter of course, will be either contracting out of, or relying on the default rules for, joint authorship to specify the allocation of songwriting royalties.

Songwriting is one of the copyright domains in which the parties are the least likely to be thinking in legalities at the time of creation, or even in terms of industry norms: songwriters have only limited knowledge of other songwriters’ split practices. Unlike scholarship, commercial filmmaking, or software development, songwriting can be (and often is) undertaken by a handful of teenagers in a garage band for whom default rules in the absence of contract are particularly relevant.116Theater is probably the closest analogue. Like songwriting, it has been the domain of several landmark joint authorship cases, discussed supra. See Thomson v. Larson, 147 F.3d 195 (2d Cir. 1998); Erickson v. Trinity Theater, Inc., 13 F.3d 1061 (7th Cir. 1994); Childress v. Taylor, 945 F.2d 500 (2d Cir. 1991). Moreover, 68% of music groups are primarily composed of friends or family members.117Polcz, supra note 7, at 38. Other domains where joint authorship rules tend to apply do not approach the volume of creation—and therefore individual works which are potentially subject to contracting about royalty splits—of co-songwriting. There are over 750,000 people who have co-written a song in the ASCAP repertory alone.118ACE Repertory Search, ASCAP, https://www.ascap.com/repertory [https://perma.cc/8A8F-QB3W] [hereinafter ASCAP Repertory]. The downloadable version in CSV format (current as of Mar. 26, 2020) was used.

Finally, joint authorship rules are financially consequential for co-songwriters.119See Justin Hughes & Robert P. Merges, Copyright and Distributive Justice, 92 Notre Dame L. Rev. 513, 532 (2016) (“[E]ven in the music industry—and with access to very little empirical data—we can see the powerful role that copyright plays in securing incomes for creative individuals.”) Justin Hughes and Robert Merges also note the importance of the copyright system in advancing African-American prosperity at a time when the failure of other systems to do so is being increasingly, if belatedly, recognized. See id. at 551–55. The economic importance of songwriting royalties120See id. at 532–33 (making as a “low-ball estimate,” PROs collected at least $4.1 billion in public performance royalties for songwriters in the 2010 to 2014 period). is not an argument in favor of focusing on co-songwriters to set the default joint authorship rules. But it is an additional reason why we should be interested in efficiently setting the joint authorship rules more generally. In the history of popular music, the importance of songwriting royalties to musicians has waxed and waned.121In 1978, the Copyright Act revised the mechanical royalty rate, which had remained unchanged since the Copyright Act of 1909 set it at 2 cents per song. Royalties started at 2.75 cents per song, and have increased to 9.1 cents per song today. U.S. Copyright Off., Mechanical License Royalty Rates, https://www.copyright.gov/licensing/m200a.pdf [https://perma.cc/PNY6-7S5N]. Songwriting royalties became meaningful for musicians after the 1960s transition to solo artists and bands who wrote their own songs122American popular music of the pre-rock era was largely written by professional songwriters, rather than songwriter-performers. See generally Russell Sanjek, American Popular Music and Its Business: The First Four Hundred Years (1988). and who, by the 1970s, had the bargaining power to control their own publishing revenues.123See id. at 537–39. Beginning in the band era of the 1960s, songwriting royalties for the most successful songs were worth millions.124See id. at 473. The revenue for artists derived from songwriting has declined again with the advent of streaming.125Royalties generally, and songwriting royalties in particular, took a significant hit from the rise of streaming music, legal and otherwise. Streaming as a whole has undercut physical music sales. See John Seabrook, The Song Machine: Inside the Hit Factory 187 (2015). Even legal streaming services like Spotify can offer little benefit to songwriters. Id. at 188 (“On most streaming services . . . the owners of the recording get most of the performance royalty money, while the owners of the publishing get only a fraction of it.”); Jason B. Bazinet, Mark May, Kota Ezawa, Thomas A. Singlehurst, Jim Suva, Alicia Yap, Jennifer Breithaupt, Kevin Brown & Bjorn Niclas, Putting the Band Back Together: Remastering the World of Music 74 (2018), https://www.citivelocity.com/
citigps/music-industry/ [https://perma.cc/HAG2-5TR9] (“[I]f you are a fully independent artist, you are likely to earn around $15,000-$20,000 per million plays on a streaming service and that gets split between the writers . . . . [I]f you are on an ‘old industry’ label, you can expect to only get $1,700 per million plays, because the label is taking the lion’s share . . . .”) Labels feeling the pinch from declining physical sales have also increasingly turned to “360 deals,” whereby artists are obliged to surrender percentages of other revenue streams (like songwriting) in order to land a recording contract. See Passman, supra note 114, at 102–03; Lee Marshall, The 360 Deal and the New Music Industry, 16 Eur. J. Cultural Stud. 77 (2012). Increasing royalties from digital streaming may indicate that the importance of this revenue stream will only increase in the future. See Ed Christman, NMPA Claims Victory: CRB Raises Payout Rate from Music Subscription Services, Billboard (Jan. 27, 2018), https://www.billboard.
com/articles/news/8096590/copyright-royalty-board-crb-nmpa-spotify-apple-music-streaming-services [https://perma.cc/YC99-TWH5]; U.S. Sales Database, RIAA, https://www.riaa.com/u-s-sales-database/ [https://perma.cc/GA2H-EZMJ] (showing a reversal in recorded music revenue decline due to the growth of monetized streaming).
Nevertheless, songwriting royalties are a significant portion of total income for many successful musicians. This became particularly clear during the COVID pandemic which eliminated touring income for over a year for many artists. A survey prior to the COVID pandemic of working musicians found that, in the most recent decade, indie rock bands have earned about 21% of their gross income from songwriting royalties and advances on those royalties.126See Future of Music Coa., Artist Revenue Streams: Case Study: Indie Rock Composer-Performer 9 (Mar. 15, 2012), http://money.futureofmusic.org/wordpress/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/ARScasestudyA.pdf [https://perma.cc/6UUY-MLPN]. This information was gathered by the Future of Music project, which sought to compile information on musicians’ and composers’ revenue streams via surveys and interviews. See Artist Revenue Streams, Future of Music Coa., http://futureofmusic.org/article/research/artist-revenue-streams [https://perma.cc/XMS3-VHNK]. For a discussion of the survey’s results, see Peter DiCola, Money From Music: Survey Evidence on Musicians’ Revenue and Lessons About Copyright Incentives, 55 Ariz. L. Rev. 301 (2013). Across other genres this figure was approximately 8% of income,127The survey found that “[m]usicians in rock, pop, country, folk and all other genres [other than classical or jazz] earn 8% of their revenue from compositions.” DiCola, supra note 126, at 329. rising to 39% for people who identified as composers, whether performing or not.128Self-identified composers, including both performers and non-performers, earned 39%. Id. And songwriting royalties often provide a measure of financial security for musicians. Unlike money from tours, for instance, the checks keep coming in once a musician’s most active career years are over.129See, e.g., Dean Goodman, Songwriter “Dirty Dancing” All The Way to the Bank, Reuters (Nov. 10, 2010), https://www.reuters.com/article/uk-dirtydancing/songwriter-dirty-dancing-all-the-way-to-the-bank-idUKTRE6A84IJ20101110 [https://perma.cc/T3B8-MUP5] (“Previte estimates that he gets quarterly checks of $10,000 to $30,000 for radio airplay, additional quarterly checks of $50,000 to $100,000 from the hit stage adaptation, and annual checks of $100,000-$125,000 when [1987’s “(I’ve Had) The Time of My Life”] is used in commercials.”); J.J. Cale: A Veteran Songwriter’s ‘Old Man’ Music, NPR (Feb. 25, 2009), https://www.npr.org/2009/02/25/101148876/a-veteran-songwriters-old-man-music [https://perma.cc/S9HM-STKD] (“Those royalty checks keep coming in, so Cale doesn’t have to tour or record much.”). Songwriters can also receive substantial payouts for licensing their compositions for film, TV, commercials, or video games.130Synchronization fees vary based on the media, how the song is used, how much of the song is used, and the status of the songwriter. Passman, supra note 114, at 265–66. Typical fees for using songs in television shows can range from $10,000 to $50,000 or more, depending on the previous popularity of the song and how prominently it features. Id. at 269. These fees will scale if, for example, the song is licensed for less or more than a year. If the master is being used in addition to the song, a master use license is also required; this is typically equal in cost to the synchronization fee. Id. at 265. Fees for licensing a song for television play can be as low as $1,000131For instance, if an artist accepts a low-ball offer in exchange for audience exposure. Id. at 269. per year to more than $100,000132Id. at 270. per year for well-known hits.

If you combine the considerations of (1) collaborations not covered by employment, work for hire, and where there is no standard practice of assignment of copyright, with (2) the volume of collaborations and works produced, there is a strong case to be made that default joint authorship rules are primarily relevant for co-songwriting. It may be that by volume, default joint authorship rules that are efficient for co-songwriting are efficient for most co-authorship cases to which those rules apply in general.

If fairness in labor contexts means applying the proportionality principle, we would expect musicians to find the equal split default rule unfair. But there is no evidence suggesting that songwriters tend to take issue with Judge Hand’s view that they must “share alike.” There has been no movement against it. Proposed amendments to the Copyright Act have never sought to revise the equal split rule, nor have music industry representatives testifying before Congress problematized it. This suggests that the equal split rule has persisted not merely because it is precedent, but because either very little is at stake, or because it leads to what collaborators consider a fair result.

B. Identifying Efficient Joint Authorship Rules Is an Empirical Task

If one agrees with the prevailing view that an efficient default reflects the preferences of most contracting parties,133There is also the view that the most efficient default rule for a given fact pattern may not be a “majoritarian” default, but rather a “penalty” default: a default that most contracting parties would not prefer. See, e.g., Ian Ayres & Robert Gertner, Filling Gaps in Incomplete Contracts: An Economic Theory of Default Rules, 99 Yale L.J. 87, 91 (1989) (explaining that penalty defaults are intended to serve a twofold information-forcing purpose: to force one party to reveal to another information that, if concealed, could increase their private gain on the contract at the expense of the total gain; and to force parties to reveal information to courts when it would be less efficient for courts themselves to discover it.) The equal split default was clearly not intended as a penalty default: it was derived from the equal split rule in tenancy in common, which was itself not intended as a penalty default. Judge Hand’s (and subsequent courts’) reasoning does not support such a reading. Judge Hand disagreed with courts dividing joint authorship shares other than equally, not because he thought it would impose a fact-finding burden on the court that would be better placed on the parties, or because he identified an asymmetry of information or market power between the parties, but because he regarded it (correctly or not) as philosophically impossible. Maurel v. Smith, 220 F. 195, 200 (S.D.N.Y. 1915). Could the equal split default function as a penalty default? Assuming majority or plurality contributors do not want to split equally, it would serve as a penalty default to them. But majoritarian defaults are penalty defaults to those not in the numerical majority; in most arrangements, the lesser contributors would be the more numerous beneficiaries. Furthermore, the only relevant information that might be withheld is the existence of the default itself; there is no reason to suppose that majority contributors, as a rule, would be the more legally well-informed parties. (Well-informed lesser contributors would be incentivized to strategically withhold information.) Also, while a proportional default would indeed impose additional fact-finding on courts, creative labor is particularly ill-suited to ex ante bargaining. Any efficiency gain likely to arise from compelling authors to quantify their contributions in advance would therefore be small, and might actually hinder creative production. This consideration may inform, at least in part, the lack of equal split defaults in non-American jurisdictions. See infra notes 142–44. then determining the most appropriate default relies on identifying the preferences of those parties. This can be achieved by looking at what contracting terms those individuals actually agree to, an empirical question.134See, e.g., Richard A. Epstein, In Defense of the Contract at Will, 51 U. Chi. L. Rev. 947, 951 (1984) (selecting a rule “because it reflects the dominant practice in a given class of cases and because that practice is itself regarded as making good sense for the standard transactions it governs”); Stewart J. Schwab, Collective Bargaining and the Coase Theorem, 72 Cornell L. Rev. 245, 286 (1987) (looking to “actual contracts” to determine “which party values the entitlement most highly”); J. Hoult Verkerke, An Empirical Perspective on Indefinite Term Employment Contracts: Resolving the Just Cause Debate, 1995 Wis. L. Rev. 837, 842 (1995) (using contract data to find support for a default rule in “[t]he revealed preferences of market participants”). An objection to modeling default rules on actual contracting behaviors is that, where a well-developed default rule already exists, the universe of contracting decisions is distorted by the existence of the default rule. Cf. Jacob Goldin & Daniel Reck, Revealed-Preference Analysis with Framing Effects, 128 J. Pol. Econ. 2759, 2760 (2020) (describing default rules as a type of framing effect); Cass R. Sunstein, Switching the Default Rule, 77 N.Y.U. L. Rev. 106 (2002) (discussing default rules and the endowment effect). Parties who find the default objectionable will explicitly contract out of it, while those who find it acceptable will leave a gap. See Ayres & Gertner, supra note 133, at 115–16. However, even among its detractors, this market-mimicking approach has been considered desirable in circumstances similar to those surrounding artistic creation in general and songwriting co-authorship in particular—for example, where parties are unaware of the default or lack a contract entirely, as the distorting effect would not be present. See id. at 115 n.122. Additionally, a large majority (75%) of bands maintain their split preferences over the lifetime of the band. See infra Section III.B.1. Moreover, in the case of co-songwriting, this is answerable.135The royalty splitting directions that co-songwriters provide to performance rights organizations (“PROs”) may or may not be backed up by a written contract. PRO registration is not a contract between co-authors, and only needs to be signed by one of a song’s co-authors or their legal agents. I argue that looking at actual allocating behavior is an effective proxy for looking at actual contracting behavior. For this reason, while presumptively all split directives will have incurred negotiating transaction costs, they may or may not also have incurred contracting transaction costs. Unlike many questions governed by default terms in contract law which may have a remote chance of becoming operational, if a song earns any songwriting royalties that the co-songwriters want to collect, they will have to face the question of with whom and how to divide them up.

Co-songwriters create a record of who shares co-authorship of their joint work when they register a song with a performance rights organization (“PRO”).136Registration forms must indicate the identities of the writers, their publishers and their respective royalty shares. See Work Registration Form, Broadcast Music, Inc., https://www.bmi.com/pdfs/work-reg-e.pdf [https://perma.cc/J6H9-CTST]. As registrations must be signed only “by an affiliated writer or an authorized representative of the submitting publisher,” they do not function as contracts between putative co-authors. Id. Similarly, split sheets—internal documents indicating the relative ownership shares of songwriting contributors—have been held not to provide “conclusive evidence of copyright ownership or authorship,” although they have evidentiary value in determining the validity of such a claim. See Montalvo v. LT’s Benjamin Records, Inc., No. CV 12-1568 (GAG), 2015 WL 13815393, at *5 (D.P.R. May 8, 2015). The individuals completing a PRO’s registration form must specify how royalties are to be split between those credited as writers: there is no default split as far as the PROs are concerned. PROs then channel the royalties they collect to a song’s listed co-writers in accordance with that information. The major PRO repertories are public and include nearly the full set of co-authorship crediting decisions made by co-songwriters in the United States.

I am interested in the co-authorship crediting decisions and royalty split choices of collaborations where contributions are uneven. Ideally, I could identify all songs resulting from uneven contributions and see if all contributors, including lesser contributors, are typically credited as co-authors. That information is not attainable. However, in this Article I construct a unique database including songwriting contribution levels for over 1,000 music groups with certified Gold Records—every band with a Gold Record that primarily writes its own songs, from the first certifications to the time of writing (1959–2021) (the “Gold Record bands”). The songwriting process of each band in the Gold Record database is coded for the contribution levels of its band members based on publicly available information.

Because the membership of these most popular bands is well-known, we can determine by looking at their PRO-registered songwriting credits whether lesser contributors are most often counted as co-authors. PRO credits were obtained for bands in the Gold Record database from the song repertories of the American Society of Composers, Authors and Publishers (“ASCAP”) and Broadcast Music, Inc. (“BMI”), which together represent 90% of the U.S. market in public performance rights (Study 1).

If the answer to whether lesser contributors are counted as co-authors is “no,” then the consequence of the control doctrine that lesser contributors are excluded from co-authorship status will have been shown to align with creator preferences in this case. This would weaken at least one key objection to the control doctrine (see Figure 1).

If the answer is “yes,” for which I make the case, the next question is whether, as co-authors, lesser contributors typically share equally in the benefits of co-authorship.137The economic benefits of co-authorship involve the authors’ ability to profit from the copyright on either an exclusive (sale) or nonexclusive (license) basis. Exclusive transfers require the consent of all owners of the copyright; nonexclusive transfers can be executed by any single owner. While the practice of songwriters selling their catalogue is not unknown, the primary means by which they derive economic benefits from their work is through licensing. For this Article, I conducted two studies to investigate this question (Study 2a and Study 2b). In Study 2a, I estimated the royalty splits of a third of the uneven Gold Record bands which include all members as co-authors. First, I compiled statements by the bands themselves or those close to them (managers, for example) disclosing the bands’ royalty split practices. The second method used the repertories of ASCAP and BMI to infer the splits of Gold Record bands. In Study 2b, I used this same methodology to infer the splits of 1.2 million co-written songs.

If the results of Study 2 support that “yes,” typically lesser contributing co-authors do receive an equal split of royalties, then the existing equal split rule is presumptively the most efficient default.

If the analysis in Study 2 suggests that “no,” lesser contributing co-authors typically do not receive an equal split of royalties, then the proposals of the second camp of scholars for revisiting the equal split default ought to be debated further.

Figure 1.  What Is Creators’ Preferred Treatment of Lesser Contributors?

C. Relevance of Empirical Data

Can the transaction cost implications of these studies help guide us between an equal split and proportional split rule? Even if the results of Study 2 suggest that we should retain the equal split default, some might question if there is any added value to empirical preference data over and above existing transaction cost arguments in favor of the equal split. Even if preference data were to show that creators prefer a proportional split, the argument might go: an equal split default would still be most efficient because the transaction costs of a proportional split default are too high. I argue that it seems unlikely that the transaction costs of implementing a proportional default split are as high as some contend. The thought is that a contribution-based rule would entail a considerable fact-finding burden and require jurists to assign percentages based on their subjective appraisals of each co-author’s contributions.138See LaFrance, supra note 76, at 257; Timothy J. McFarlin, An Idea of Authorship: Orson Welles, The War of the Worlds Copyright, and Why We Should Recognize Idea-Contributors as Joint Authors, 66 Case W. Res. L. Rev. 701, 753 n.190 (2016). Unlike in copyright infringement cases, where courts already make such appraisals,139Under one approach to the prevailing substantial similarity standard, finders of fact must “break[] the works ‘down into their constituent elements, and compa[re] those elements for proof of copying.’ ” Swirsky v. Carey, 376 F.3d 841, 845 (9th Cir. 2004) (quoting Rice v. Fox Broad. Co., 148 F.Supp.2d 1029, 1051 (C.D. Cal. 2001)) (describing the extrinsic test), and determine “whether the ordinary reasonable person would find ‘the total concept and feel of the works’ to be substantially similar,” Pasillas v. McDonald’s Corp., 927 F.2d 440, 442 (9th Cir. 1991) (quoting Data East USA, Inc. v. Epyx, Inc., 862 F.2d 204, 208 (9th Cir. 1988)) (describing the intrinsic test). Therefore, in an infringement action, the finder of fact continually makes percentage assignments both formal and informal. See, e.g., Copeland v. Bieber, 789 F.3d 484, 494 (4th Cir. 2015) (discussing the relative importance of the chorus in pop); Newton v. Diamond, 388 F.3d 1189, 1196 (9th Cir. 2004) (no infringement where the sampled portion “is roughly two percent of the four-and-a-half-minute ‘Choir’ sound recording”); Three Boys Music Corp. v. Bolton, 212 F.3d 477, 487 (9th Cir. 2000) (“The jury found that 28% of the album’s profits derived from the song, and that 66% of the song’s profits resulted from infringing elements.”), overruled by Skidmore v. Led Zeppelin, 952 F.3d 1051 (9th Cir. 2020); cf. 17 U.S.C. § 107(3) (fair use determined in part by “the amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the copyrighted work as a whole.”). in joint authorship disputes the value of a work is not necessarily known.140See McFarlin, supra note 65, at 490–91. This position rests on evidentiary assumptions that are not compelling. Assigning joint authors uneven shares in a song involves approximate and imprecise appraisals.

Yet those aspects of making proportional attributions would not be unique. Courts are accustomed to carving up responsibility in contexts of nebulous causality to arrive at liability determinations in common law torts.141See Restatement (Third) of Torts: Apportionment Liab. § 8 (Am. L. Inst. 2000). English courts have awarded proportional shares in cases where authorship was found in the absence of contract and contributions were unequal,142See Fisher v. Brooker, [2006] EWHC (Ch) 3239 (Eng.) (awarding a 40% share to a co-author of a copyrighted song, although Fisher had argued for a 50% share); Bamgboye v. Reed [2002] EWHC (QB) 2922 (Eng.) (awarding a one-third share). and ownership is proportional by default in Germany.143Gesetz über das Urheberrecht und verwandte Schutzrechte (Urheberrechtsgesetz) [UrhG] [Act on Copyright and Related Rights], Sep. 9, 1965, as amended, Art. 8(3) (Ger.), https://www.gesetze-im-internet.de/englisch_urhg/englisch_urhg.html [https://perma.cc/M33C-5Q42] (“Proceeds derived from the use of the work are due to the joint authors in accordance with the extent of their involvement in the creation of the work, unless otherwise agreed between the joint authors.”). If there are reasons to think American jurists would face unique obstacles to determining proportional ownership shares, they have yet to be raised. In general, while degrees of interdependence vary across collaborative contexts, almost as a rule people succeed in translating comparative contributions into pay differences within a tolerated margin of error. If most collaborators must contract out of the default regime because an equal split does not match their royalty distribution preferences, then on the whole a proportional split default rule could be more efficient. The pre-existing arguments against the proportional split and in favor of the equal split are weak.144Another efficiency-based argument in favor of the existing equal split rule is that a proportional split rule would increase how often joint authorship is litigated, because co-authors would self-servingly bring claims arguing they are entitled to larger shares than their co-authors will acknowledge. However, this seems unlikely. See Mandel, supra note 76, at 356. (“Equitable apportionment would reduce the stakes of expected outcomes from litigation, which would be expected both to reduce litigation and to increase the rate of settlement of any litigation that is initiated.”). These arguments do not fare well if you believe the central preference contention of the advocates of a contributions-based split. The aggregate transaction costs of contracting out of the default rule are the most significant potential drag on efficiency. For this reason, it is important to know both if creators—in this article particularly songwriters—think lesser contributors deserve to be co-authors, and as co-authors, how much they think they deserve.

III.  WHO IS A CO-AUTHOR?

A. Study 1: Are Lesser Contributors Considered Co-authors?

1. Methodology

When songwriters collaborate to write a song, but one of them contributes more than the other, will they all still be credited as co-authors? To answer this question, I focused on a large group of songwriting collaborators: music groups that write their own songs and have one or more Gold Records. As popular music groups, they are often on record about which of their members contribute to writing their songs and how much of a contribution145Importantly, they are a non-arbitrarily defined set of music groups. Descriptions of the co-songwriting processes for songs by Gold Record bands are broadly similar to those of co-songwriting by less successful bands and in non-band collaborations; on this basis, comparable shares of songs written through even and uneven contributions are expected between the Gold Record bands and co-songwriting more generally. Sufficient information was found to code 96.16% of all Gold Record bands that primarily release songs written by band members. The percentage of results excluded for missing data is 3.84%, because either there was insufficient information available for songwriting process coding or writing credit information was absent or uninterpretable. This level of missing data has been characterized as inconsequential. See Yiran Dong & Chao-Ying Joanne Peng, Principled Missing Data Methods for Researchers, 2 SpringerPlus 222, 223 (2013) (citing Joseph L. Schafer, Multiple Imputation: A Primer, 8 Stat. Methods Med. Res. 3, 7 (1999)). those members make to writing their songs.146See supra text accompanying note 55 for general copyrightability considerations. See infra notes 159–64 and accompanying text for the analysis applied to data in this study. The 1,003 bands in this study include Gold Record awardees from across the full sixty years (1959–2021) during which Gold Records have been awarded147Gold & Platinum, RIAA, https://www.riaa.com/gold-platinum/ [https://perma.cc/8SHS-2YRF]. by the Recording Industry Association of America (“RIAA”).148The search of the RIAA Gold & Platinum database for Group and Duo artists resulted in an initial list of 1,669 group and duo performances, many of which were not by bands. The study excluded 666 search results. Search results were excluded for non-band group performances as well as bands mostly performing songs not written by band members (19.47% of results; for example, Mormon Tabernacle Choir or folk groups performing songs in the public domain), backing bands (4.55% of results; for example, Dave Matthews Band), and bands for which insufficient information was available concerning songwriting process or song credits (3.84% of results). The RIAA certifies albums149RIAA and GR&F Certification Audit Requirements: RIAA Album Award, RIAA (Mar. 2021), https://
http://www.riaa.com/wp-content/uploads/2021/03/ALBUM-AWARD-RIAA-AND-GRF-CERTIFICATION-AUDIT-REQUIREMENTS.pdf [https://perma.cc/R3LS-VZVM]. Gold certification indicates sales of 500,000 and Platinum of 1,000,000 units. A unit is defined as a physical or digital album sale, 10 permanent track downloads, 1,500 on-demand streams, or some combination of the above. Prior to 1975, Gold certification required $1 million in wholesale sales, with no unit sales requirement. See Adam White, The Billboard Book of Gold & Platinum Records viii (1990).
and singles150RIAA and GR&F Certification Audit Requirements: RIAA Digital Single Award, RIAA
(Feb. 2016), https://www.riaa.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/DIGITAL-SINGLE-AWARD-RIAA-AND-GRF-CERTIFICATION-AUDIT-REQUIREMENTS.pdf [https://perma.cc/M7RQ-ZXM9]. Gold certification indicates sales of 500,000 and Platinum of 1,000,000 units. A unit is defined as a permanent digital download, 150 on-demand streams, or some combination of the two. (Physical singles sales are now largely nonexistent.) Between 1976 and 1989, Platinum certification indicated sales of 2 million units. See White, supra note 149, at viii.
based on sales.

The Gold Record bands have previously discussed their songwriting processes in numerous interviews.151The sources consulted were primarily interviews, biographies and feature articles covering a band’s songwriting process and the degree of band members’ involvement. Such interviews were the principal basis for identifying bands in which all the members contribute to songwriting but do not contribute evenly (uneven contributions bands).152To classify bands, I hired outside coders to compile and review publicly available sources of information on the songwriting processes of the Gold Record bands and to code them according to the songwriting contributions protocol. The reliability of source material for each band was classified by a coder as very strong, strong, satisfactory, or insufficient information (these bands were excluded). Source reliability was very strong when the code was based primarily on unambiguous direct interview quotes from the band members. Source reliability was strong when third-party quotes were drawn from mainstream or music-focused publications and clearly delineated the songwriting process. Satisfactory reliability was given to codes based primarily on tertiary or amateur sources. Overall, source reliability was very strong or strong for 78% of the bands and 22% satisfactory. Multiple sources support the coding of 87% of bands, and source reliability was very strong or strong a majority of the time (79%) when coding was based on a single source. An independent coder coded an overlap of 10% of the bands (100). These bands occupied a middle ground between, on the one hand, groups in which all members made more or less even contributions to songwriting (even contributions bands), and, on the other hand, bands in which some members did not contribute to songwriting at all (some members do not contribute bands).153Band members’ contributions to songwriting were assessed on the basis of the writing process for individual songs, rather than the band’s overall song output. This means bands such as Queen, in which all band members contributed solo written songs to the group’s output more or less evenly, were coded as some members do not contribute, rather than as even contributions. While this approach has the potential to cloud the interpretation of co-authorship crediting, in practice the codes assigned at the per song level and overall output level converged 99% of the time. The research and coding processes were highly labor intensive, taking several hundred hours over which thousands of sources were screened and compiled.154First, the coders collected and coded data on a subset of the Gold Record bands. I fine-tuned the coding protocol, then all bands were re-coded. The design of the coding process incorporated guidelines, derived from Klaus Krippendorff and Kimberly Neuendorf, presented in Mark A. Hall & Ronald F. Wright, Systematic Content Analysis of Judicial Opinions, 96 Cal. L. Rev. 63, 107–17 (2008). Interrater reliability was measured as 84.5% using Krippendorff’s alpha; percent agreement was 91%. Krippendorff’s alpha is a standard measure of agreement between multiple coders. See Klaus Krippendorff, Content Analysis: An Introduction to Its Methodology 221–22 (2d ed. 2004).

In addition, unless all of a band’s members made independently copyrightable contributions to songwriting, the band was classified as one in which some members do not contribute.155The footnoted sentences in this paragraph which follow are reproduced from Sarah Polcz, supra note 7, which relies upon the same dataset. The copyrightability of songwriting contributions was assumed when quotes labeled band members as songwriters or confirmed members’ involvement in songwriting in general terms.156Uncontradicted assumptions were informed by genre norms; for example, rappers were taken to be delivering their own verses, and members of electronic dance music (“EDM”), rap and hip-hop groups described as “producers,” “programmers,” or “beat makers” were assumed to be making copyrightable musical contributions. See Tonya M. Evans, Sampling, Looping, and Mashing . . . Oh My!: How Hip Hop Music Is Scratching More than the Surface of Copyright Law, 21 Fordham Intell. Prop. Media & Ent. L.J. 843, 852–53 (2011); Chris Robley, Should My Producer Get Publishing and Songwriting Credit?, DIY Musician (July 11, 2018), https://diymusician.cdbaby.com/music-rights/does-my-producer-deserve-publishing-and-songwriting-credit [https://perma.cc/MF8P-DLS3]. If any band members were described as making only contributions to songs that are not legally considered songwriting—such as arrangement, suggestions or feedback—then their bands were coded as some members do not contribute. To distinguish between uneven and even contributions by band members, industry norms, where existing, supplied assumptions; for example, lyrics were weighted as comprising half of the song. See Daniel Abowd, FRE-Bird: An Evidentiary Tale of Two Colliding Copyrights, 30 Fordham Intell. Prop. Media & Ent. L.J. 1311, 1329 (2020). Since compositions may be the product of jam sessions or studio experimentation, a sound recording may represent the fixed form of the composition. See Bridgeport Music, Inc. v. UMG Recordings, Inc., 585 F.3d, 267, 276 (6th Cir. 2009); Robert Brauneis, Musical Work Copyright for the Era of Digital Sound Technology: Looking Beyond Composition and Performance, 17 Tul. J. Tech. & Intell. Prop. 1, 28 (2014) (“By 2012, 77% of musical work registrations were accompanied by phonorecord deposits and only 17% by deposits of musical notation . . . .”). With this in mind, coders were instructed to regard contributions as “arrangements”—contributions to the sound recording rather than the music composition—only when band members clearly described them as such, with the understanding that the interviewee was aware of the distinction. These represent the categories of contribution ruled not to be protectible under the Childress standard. See Erickson v. Trinity Theatre, Inc., 13 F.3d 1061, 1068 (7th Cir. 1994); Childress v. Taylor, 945 F.2d 500, 509 (2d Cir. 1991); BTE v. Bonnecaze, 43 F. Supp. 2d 619, 623 (E.D. La. 1999) (holding no joint authorship when a musician contributes unfixed “ideas and helpful insights”). Interviewees discussed a variety of contributions, some copyrightable (whether to the composition or to the sound recording) and others likely not. When members’ particular contributions were described,157See, e.g., Tim Louie, An Interview with Sixx:A.M.: Returning with Their Own Prayers for the Damned, Aquarian (May 18, 2016), https://www.theaquarian.com/2016/05/18/an-interview-with-sixxa-m-returning-with-their-own-prayers-for-the-damned/ [https://perma.cc/2L9S-U4WU] (“It’s the three of us getting together in a room picking up instruments and talking. We talk a lot before we even start writing, discussing subject matters, and working through melody ideas, working through riff ideas and we all bring in ideas.”). case law (interpreting the Copyright Act) was the primary basis for assessing their copyrightability.158Additionally, the United States Copyright Office (“USCO”) was a source for the concept that a musical work consists of four copyrightable elements: melody, rhythm, harmony, and lyrics. U.S. Copyright Off., Compendium of U.S. Copyright Office Practices § 802.3 (3d ed. 2021). Band member contributions which included the elements of a musical work—lyrics,159Individual words and short phrases are typically denied copyright protection. Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 30, § 2.01[B][3]. However, this general rule may not be applicable in a songwriting context. See Goldstein, supra note 9, § 2.8, at 2:102–2:102.1 (“[T]he Act’s inclusion of ‘accompanying words’ in its reference to musical works means that musical and lyrical elements that by themselves would not be sufficiently original and expressive to qualify for copyright may combine with each other to produce a copyrightable work.”) Courts have been willing to consider the copyrightability of lyrics that would not reach the originality threshold if published as a literary work. See, e.g., May v. Sony Music Ent., 399 F. Supp. 3d 169 (S.D.N.Y. 2019) (refusing to dismiss an infringement claim based on the lyric “We run things. Things no run we.”). It is unlikely that band members would be described as lyricists, lyric writers or lyrical contributors if their only contributions failed to meet this threshold of originality. melody,160Goldstein wrote,

Melody in a musical composition consists of a succession of notes, as well as the long and short durations of individual notes, organized around the composition’s rhythm. Because melody is so salient, and is relatively unconstrained by musical convention, it is typically the principal vessel of originality in musical compositions.

Goldstein, supra note 9, § 2.8, at 2:102.1–2. harmony,161“Harmony gives depth to a musical composition. It might consist of two or more voices, separated by a constant span of notes, simultaneously singing the melody, or it might consist of chords—the simultaneous sounding of individual notes—harmoniously connected to each other and to the composition’s melody.” Goldstein, supra note 9, § 2.8, at 2:102.2. See also Williams v. Gaye, 895 F.3d 1106 (9th Cir. 2018) (Blurred Lines Case) (finding no reversible error in an infringement verdict based substantially on rhythmic and harmonic elements). Harmonic elements appeared in the coding in the form of chords and chord progressions. and rhythm162“Rhythm is the physical element of music, the steady beat that sets a listener’s fingers tapping. Although rhythm can be varied, the dictates of musical convention will typically constrain variety. As a result, courts rarely find originality in rhythm alone.” Goldstein, supra note 9, § 2.8, at 2:102.1–2; see also Bridgeport Music, Inc. v. UMG Recordings, Inc., 585 F.3d 267 (6th Cir. 2009) (rhythmic elements copyrightable); New Old Music Grp., Inc. v. Gottwald, 122 F. Supp. 3d 78 (S.D.N.Y. 2015) (drum part copyrightable); BMS Ent./Heat Music LLC v. Bridges, No. 04 CIV. 2584 (PKC), 2005 WL 1593013, at *1 (S.D.N.Y. July 7, 2005) (rhythmic elements copyrightable); Santrayll v. Burrell, No. 91 CIV. 3166 (PKL), 1996 WL 134803, at *1 (S.D.N.Y. Mar. 25, 1996) (rhythmic elements copyrightable). Rhythmic songwriting elements often appeared in the coding in the form of drum parts, basslines, and beats.—were assumed to be sufficiently original163The originality (and thus copyrightability) of the type of contribution is discussed supra. The minimum quantity of contribution also required consideration. A recent case offers the guideline (in dicta) that this is certainly more than three or four notes, but perhaps as few as seven. See Skidmore v. Zeppelin, 952 F.3d 1051, 1071 (9th Cir.) (en banc). In practice, sources did not reach this degree of specificity. See also U.S. Copyright Off., supra note 158, § 802.5(B) (“There is no predetermined number of notes, measures, or words that automatically constitutes de minimis authorship or automatically qualifies a work for copyright registration.”). and treated as copyrightable.164The copyrightable expression in a musical composition is typically found in its melody, harmony, rhythm or some combination of the three. See Goldstein, supra note 9, § 2.8, at 2:102.1–102.3.103; Nimmer & Nimmer, supra note 30, § 2.05[D]; see also 2 William F. Patry, Patry On Copyright, § 3:93 (“Originality in a musical composition consists not just of melody or harmony, but also in the combination of these two in addition to any other elements, such as rhythm or orchestration.”). While melody was long privileged as the sole source of copyrightable expression in musical compositions, courts have sometimes—and perhaps increasingly—been willing to find other aspects of the work copyrightable. See Joseph P. Fishman, Music as a Matter of Law, 131 Harv. L. Rev. 1861, 1870–73 (2018). Joint authorship cases concerning songwriting are typically decided on intent and rarely reach the question of copyrightability. Most discussion of the copyrightability of song elements has therefore arisen out of an infringement context. Infringement cases in music, involving highly fact-specific determinations, have understandably not produced a list of copyrightable and uncopyrightable elements that can be applied mechanically: the most that can be said is that certain elements may (or may not) be copyrightable. Furthermore, the infringement analysis does not itself determine copyrightability. In some instances, infringement has been found on the basis of elements that may not themselves be independently copyrightable. See Swirsky v. Carey, 376 F.3d 841, 848 (9th Cir. 2004) (“[T]o disregard chord progression, key, tempo, rhythm, and genre is to ignore the fact that a substantial similarity can be found in a combination of elements, even if those elements are individually unprotected.”); Three Boys Music Corp. v. Bolton, 212 F.3d 477, 485–86 (9th Cir. 2000). Most bands were classified as some members do not contribute(555/1,003, or 55%), followed by uneven (258/1,003, or 26%); it was least common for all members to contribute evenly to songwriting (190/1,003, or 19%).

Next, I assessed whether uneven bands credited all members as co-authors of their songs. A song’s writers are listed in several places: liner notes, on PRO registrations, and in United States Copyright Office (“USCO”) registrations. I consulted PRO registrations and validated that they correspond to USCO registrations.165Courts have not recognized PRO registrations as evidence of authorship, but USCO registrations constitute “prima facie evidence of the validity of the copyright and the facts stated in the certificate of registration.” U.S. Copyright Off., supra note 158, § 202. Therefore, USCO registrations were searched and compiled for ten songs by all bands with uneven contributions that include all members as co-authors. The credited writers in the PRO registrations match listed co-authors in USCO registrations 99% of the time. Also, 37% of the songs registered with PROs were not registered in the USCO database. See Zvi S. Rosen & Richard Schwinn, An Empirical Study of 225 Years of Copyright Registrations, 94 Tul. L. Rev. 1003, 1030 (2020) (noting that, over the course of the past thirty years, music registrations with USCO “f[e]ll off a cliff to levels not seen since the 1930s”). A band was classified as one in which all members are co-authors (true/false)166This relied on assembling, per song, the number of band members and the number of co-authors credited. if, for a majority of its songs, all the members of the band in the year the song was released were credited as writers.167The number of members with writing credit was compared to the number of members the band had in the year each song was released. If the number of member co-authors was less, the song was coded as false (per song; variable used only in computing per band level all members are co-authors), otherwise as true (per song). The total number of true songs was counted and compared to the total number of the band’s songs. When more than 50% of a band’s songs were credited to all members of the band in the year the song was released, the band was coded as true for the variable all members are co-authors. To determine the number of members in each band at the time their songs were released, discographies including year of release information were obtained from AllMusic, https://www.allmusic.com/ [https://perma.cc/4GVX-XYGQ]. Discography data was web-scraped. When AllMusic did not provide details on the year in which a song was released, a web search was conducted. After this, several sources were reviewed to find the number of band members in each year songs were released: band members were listed on AllMusic, Wikipedia, band websites, in liner notes, and often named in interviews. Touring and session musicians were not counted as band members. The names of the writers credited with the songs of bands in the Gold Record database were obtained from the online repertories of ASCAP and BMI. For 38% of the 1,003 bands in the study, it was true that all members are co-authors.

Other factors beyond writing contribution may influence whether or not lesser contributors receive co-authorship credit. For this reason, I collected data on a number of factors. I designated the lowest number of members the band had during its active years as a representative band size168The size of a band’s membership could influence how willing members are to include all members as co-authors. Particularly for uneven contributions to songwriting bands, as group size grows, so does the possible economic penalty for including all members as co-authors. To investigate whether the number of members in a band predicts the inclusion of lesser contributors as co-authors, representative band size was generated for each band (Two (21%); Three (22%); Four (35%); Five (16%); Six+ (6.1%)). For bands with variable numbers of members, the lowest number of members during the band’s active years was used. More than 90% of music groups had five or fewer members. The most common band size was four members (349/1,003, or 35%). and identified each band’s genre169Genre data was obtained from AllMusic’s “genres” listing for each band. Music Genres, AllMusic, https://www.allmusic.com/genres [https://perma.cc/KN52-AVL9]. AllMusic’s proliferation of subgenres (over 120) is highly useful for capturing subtle commonalities across the site’s more than 30 million tracks. However, this subgenre classification scheme is too granular for the size of this study’s dataset. At the same time, AllMusic’s twenty-one higher level genre classifications potentially collapse meaningful differences within the study sample of Gold Record bands (for instance, by combining Pop and Rock into a single genre). For this reason, I decided to group together the bands’ AllMusic subgenres into the following nine genre categories: Rock (48%); Latin (2.9%); Country (4.4%); Metal (6.5%); Punk (2.1%); Pop (15%); Reggae (0.8%); Hip Hop, R&B, Gospel, Jazz (19%); and Electronic (1.7%). AllMusic frequently associates artists with multiple subgenres. In the event of a band’s multiple subgenre classifications corresponding to more than one of the study genre groups, the band was assigned to the study genre group with fewer observations. of music, region of origin,170Geographic regions are sometimes thought to vary in terms of attitudes that could relate to decisions about including lesser contributors as co-authors (for example, Southern communalism or coastal capitalism). For this reason, the geographic regions of bands from the United States and its territories were coded according to the location where the band was started. Location data was obtained from Wikipedia, which was then classified into regions using the boundaries of the U.S. Divisions and Regions of the U.S. Census Bureau, widely used regional divisions for statistics and data collection: Northeast (17%); Midwest (8.4%); West (26%); and South (20%). U.S. Census Bureau, Geography Div., Census Regions and Divisions of the United States, https://www2.census.gov/
geo/pdfs/maps-data/maps/reference/us_regdiv.pdf [https://perma.cc/FD3M-3LUY]. As the U.S. Census Bureau does not include Puerto Rico in any census region, bands from Puerto Rico were classified as South. All bands originating outside the United States and its territories were classified as Non-USA (28%).
and decade171In keeping with the common practice of organizing discussions of the history of popular music around particular decades, bands were assigned to a period spanning ten years according to the year in which their first album was released. The years in which albums were released was obtained from each band’s profile on AllMusic. The decade classifications used are 1960s and earlier (8.9%); 1970s (13%); 1980s (23%); 1990s (29%); 2000s (18%); and 2010s and later (8.6%). In general, no region or decade dominated group genesis, though there were comparatively fewer music groups prior to 1980. of formation (see Table 1). I also evaluated whether co-author inclusion changed over time.172This was analyzed as a true/false variable. It relied on assembling a year-specific version for all members are co-authors variable for the first and last year of a band’s existence. Bands might initially decide to include all members as co-authors, or not, but change their co-author inclusion practices in subsequent years. To track the potential for this occurrence, an all members are co-authors by year (true/false) variable was produced for each year the band has released songs. Bands were then categorized as initial year co-author inclusion (true/false), based on the value of all members are co-authors by year, in the year of their first release. The initial year co-author inclusion code for each band was compared against the all members are co-authors by year codes for each release year. If there were any occurrences differing from the bands’ initial year co-author inclusion code, the band was code as true for co-author inclusion changed, and otherwise as false. Further, 75% of bands were false for co-author inclusion changed.

Table 1.  Descriptive Statistics for Gold Record Bands 1959–2021

Variable

N = 1003

All members are co-authors

379 (38%)

Songwriting

 

Even

190 (19%)

Uneven

258 (26%)

Some members do not contribute

555 (55%)

Decade

 

1960s and earlier

89 (8.9%)

1970s

129 (13%)

1980s

234 (23%)

1990s

288 (29%)

2000s

177 (18%)

2010s and later

86 (8.6%)

Members

 

2

215 (21%)

3

220 (22%)

4

349 (35%)

5

158 (16%)

6+

61 (6.1%)

Genre

 

Rock

478 (48%)

Hip Hop, R&B, Gospel, Jazz

190 (19%)

Pop

151 (15%)

Metal

65 (6.5%)

Country

44 (4.4%)

Latin

29 (2.9%)

Punk

21 (2.1%)

Electronic

17 (1.7%)

Reggae

8 (0.8%)

 

Region

 

Northeast

170 (17%)

Midwest

84 (8.4%)

West

265 (26%)

South

204 (20%)

Non-USA

280 (28%)

2. Results

From 1959 to 2021, uneven bands typically included all members as co-authors (140/258 or 54%). This tendency strengthened over time, specifically throughout each of the last three decades, even while accounting for genre, region of origin, and representative band size (p < 0.01).173First, for all Gold Record bands with any level of band member songwriting contributions, I used logistic regression analysis to investigate whether all members are co-authors was associated with songwriting contributions, genre, region, decade, or representative band size. The reference group for decade was “1980s.” Songwriting contributions were the most important predictors of all members are co-authors. Compared to bands in which some members do not contribute to songwriting, bands with even (or 2.9, p<0.001) and uneven (or 1.9, p<0.001) were significantly more likely to include all members as song co-authors. Significant associations were also found with representative band size, decade, and genre, but not region (p<0.001). Representative band size: Compared to four-member groups, two-member groups were significantly more likely to include all members as co-authors (p<0.001); five-member groups (p<0.05) and groups with six or more members (p<0.005) were significantly less likely to do so. For “decade,” compared to the 1980s, groups formed in the 1960s or earlier were significantly less likely (p<0.05) to include all members as co-authors, whereas this was less common with bands formed in the 1990s (p<0.05), 2000s (p<0.005), and 2010s and later (p<0.01). Genre: Compared to Pop groups, Latin (p<0.05) and Hip Hop, R&B, Gospel, and Jazz (p<0.05) groups were significantly less likely to include all members as co-authors. For the subgroup of uneven songwriting contributions bands, to a lesser extent, a band size of two members was also associated with all members included as co-authors (p<0.05). Most uneven bands with fewer than five members include all members as co-authors.174Z-test of one proportion, p<0.05. Among bands with five or more members, a considerable majority (66%) have some members who do not contribute to songwriting, and there were too few even or uneven contribution bands of that size to investigate co-author inclusion rates and whether copyrightable contributions by all members suffice for co-authorship credit or whether some other factor, perhaps control, is required.175Such analysis would be underpowered.

To pursue the trend of increasing co-author inclusion over time, I focused on uneven bands formed after 1990 (n=175). A significant majority of these groups credit lesser contributors as co-authors (111/175, or 63%).176Z-test of one proportion, p<0.001, 95% CI 56%–71%. This preference was less common with larger bands, but otherwise was not associated with other factors.177I used logistic regression to investigate associations with representative band size, genre, and region. The only significant association was with larger band sizes, which were negatively associated with all members are co-authors (five members p<0.05, or -1.1; six or more members p=0.054, or -1.8). Overall, bands with five or more members were significantly more likely to be coded as some members do not contribute (145/219, or 66%) than bands with four or fewer members (410/784, or 52%) (z-test of two proportions p<0.001).

Table 2.  Logistic Regression for Co-Author Inclusion: UnevenContributions Bands 1959–2021

Variable

log(OR)

95% CI

p-value

Decade (ref. cat.: 1980s)

     

1960s and earlier

-0.30

-1.6, 0.92

0.6

1970s

-0.12

-1.3, 1.0

0.8

1990s

1.2

0.35, 2.1

0.007*

2000s

1.2

0.34, 2.1

0.007*

2010s and later

1.5

0.39, 2.6

0.009*

Members (ref. cat.: 4)

     

2

1.2

0.21, 2.3

0.022*

3

-0.04

-0.81, 0.73

>0.9

5

-0.73

-1.5, 0.05

0.067

6+

-1.4

-3.0, 0.05

0.075

Genre (ref. cat.: Pop)

     

Rock

0.61

-0.25, 1.5

0.2

Hip Hop, R&B, Gospel, Jazz

-0.80

-1.9, 0.27

0.15

Country

-1.7

-3.6, 0.01

0.060

Metal

-0.09

-1.3, 1.1

0.9

Punk

-0.47

-2.7, 1.7

0.7

Electronic

-1.4

-3.4, 0.57

0.2

Reggae

13

-167, NA

>0.9

 

Region (ref. cat.: Northeast)

     

Midwest

-0.51

-1.9, 0.82

0.5

West

-0.07

-0.91, 0.77

0.9

South

0.36

-0.57, 1.3

0.5

Non-USA

0.11

-0.80, 1.0

0.8

Notes: *p < 0.05; **p < 0.005.

Table 3.  Logistic Regression for Co-author Inclusion: UnevenContributions Bands 1990–2021

Variable

log(OR)

95% CI

p-value

Songwriting (ref. cat.: Some members do not contribute)

     

Even

2.9

2.4, 3.5

<0.001**

Uneven

1.8

1.4, 2.1

<0.001**

Decade (ref. cat.: 1980s)

     

1960s and earlier

-0.94

-1.7, -0.20

0.016*

1970s

-0.33

-1.0, 0.27

0.3

1990s

0.50

0.06, 1.0

0.026*

2000s

0.74

0.23, 1.2

0.004**

2010s and later

0.90

0.23, 1.6

0.009*

Members (ref. cat.: 4)

     

2

0.91

0.43, 1.4

<0.001**

3

0.02

-0.42, 0.45

>0.9

5

-0.61

-1.1, -0.11

0.017*

6+

-1.5

-2.6, -0.56

0.003**

Genre (ref. cat.: Pop)

     

Rock

0.37

-0.14, 0.89

0.2

Hip Hop, R&B, Gospel, Jazz

-0.79

-1.4, -0.16

0.014*

Country

-1.0

-2.0, -0.09

0.034*

Metal

0.27

-0.52, 1.0

0.5

Latin

-1.5

-3.0, -0.18

0.032*

Punk

0.87

-0.29, 2.0

0.13

Electronic

-0.50

-1.8, 0.90

0.5

Reggae

1.0

-1.6, 4.1

0.5

Region (ref. cat.: Northeast)

     

Midwest

-0.68

-1.4, 0.04

0.069*

West

0.01

-0.49, 0.51

>0.9

South

0.11

-0.43, 0.65

0.7

Non-USA

0.26

-0.26, 0.78

0.3

Notes: *p < 0.05; **p < 0.005.

             

A significant majority of bands (75%) did not deviate from the practice of crediting or not crediting all members as co-authors which they had established in the year of their first release.178Z-test of one proportion, p < 0.001. Of those 25% of bands that switched credit practices, most of those that changed did so to credit all members as co-authors rather than vice versa.179Test of two proportions, p < 0.001. To note, 20% of bands which began by including all members as co-authors at some point switched to not including all members as co-authors; 36% of bands which began by not including all members as co-authors at some point switched to including all members as co-authors.

3. Open Questions

Study 1 investigated co-author inclusion practices, but the data did not contain details on how songwriting royalties are allocated between the band members who are credited as co-authors.

If creators do consider it unfair for lesser contributors to receive equal co-authorship benefits, then we might expect that even though bands’ lesser contributors are most often treated as co-authors, they receive a smaller share of songwriting royalties than their co-authors who made the most significant contributions. This would be the practice predicted by the scholars advocating for a proportional split default. Study 2 was designed to test this hypothesis.

IV. DO LESSER CO-AUTHORS RECEIVE LESS ROYALTIES?

The scholars arguing for a proportional default split would predict that when collaborators’ contributions to a joint work are unequal, they prefer an unequal royalty split. Study 2 tests this hypothesis not only for music groups, but for co-written songs in general. Study 2a investigates the songwriting royalty percentage splits of the uneven contributions bands in the Gold Record database using two different approaches. Study 2b adapts one of these approaches to estimate the proportion of uneven co-authored songs in general, using co-written songs in the ASCAP repertory.

A. Study 2A: Gold Record Bands Royalty Splits

Study 2a compiles uneven Gold Record bands’ and their managers’ disclosures about their royalty splits, along with statements about their splits from other reliable sources. If the proportional preference hypothesis is correct, the results should indicate that when co-authors’ contributions are uneven, they prefer to split songwriting royalties unevenly as well.

1. Methodology

First, a coder180Despite the success of machine learning techniques for classifying image data, machine learning techniques have been less successful with music genre classification and human coding continues to generate more satisfactory results. Email from Joel Shor, Senior Software Engineer, Google Research, to Sarah Polcz (May 29, 2019) (on file with author). searched for information on the songwriting royalty split practices of every uneven band in the Gold Record database that includes all members as co-authors (n=140). Split information was found for 21% of these bands that met a standard of “reasonably certain” source reliability (29/140); on this basis their splits were classified as equal or unequal.181An equal split variable was created for which bands were coded as true/false. Data was obtained through the online searches only for a subset of uneven bands, and it is not clear whether the bands whose splits are not public is data that is missing at random.

Second, to gain further insight into how uneven bands split songwriting royalties, I consulted the ASCAP repertory. In 2015, ASCAP began to disclose the percentages of song royalties under the control of its repertory,182This terminology is used by ASCAP to refer to the aggregate percentage of a song’s royalties administered by ASCAP on behalf of its members and/or members of affiliated non-U.S. performance rights organizations. See ASCAP Reveals Its Percentage Share of Over 10M Songs Online, Music Bus. Worldwide (Nov. 12, 2015), https://www.musicbusinessworldwide.com/ascap-reveals-its-percentage-share-of-over-10m-songs-online/ [https://perma.cc/7PNF-SU5Z]. likely in preparation for an antitrust review by the U.S. Department of Justice.183See U.S. Dept. Just., Statement of the Department of Justice on the Closing of the Antitrust Division’s Review of the ASCAP and BMI Consent Decrees 2 (Aug. 4, 2016), https://www.justice.gov/atr/file/882101/download [https://perma.cc/7XW6-CE7D]. (The review recommended, in part, that ASCAP and BMI should be required to license songs on a “100%” basis, rather than only the percentage under their control. Strongly opposed by the PROs, this proposal was ultimately defeated.) See Songwriters Win in Second Circuit Ruling on 100% Licensing Decision, ASCAP (Dec. 19, 2017), https://www.ascap.com/news-events/articles/2017/12/songwriters-win-in-second-circuit-ruling [https://perma.cc/7RT6-QQCF]. ASCAP is the only PRO that currently discloses the writers’ share of royalties it controls.184Broad. Music, Inc. (BMI), https://bmi.com [https://perma.cc/HB3A-AF8T] and Glob. Music Rts. (GMR), https://globalmusicrights.com [https://perma.cc/HGR6-HEVQ], list each PRO’s percentage of control over a work’s total public performance right, without specifying the extent to which this percentage is derived from the writer’s and/or publisher’s share. SESAC, https://www.sesac.com/ [https://perma.cc/FQ4W-F2DZ], does not include any control data in its publicly available repertory. SESAC Repertory, Sesac (2022), https://www.sesac.com/documents/SESAC_REPERTORY.pdf [https://perma.cc/B3DP-S8TN]. I used ASCAP’s disclosures on the proportion of royalties under its control to code each song by the uneven bands as either split equally, or not.185Songs were coded as true/false for the equal split variable using this information. A coder searched the ASCAP repertory for songs by the uneven bands that include all members as co-authors (n=140) and with at least one member on whose behalf ASCAP does not collect royalties.186The data obtained included song titles, credited writers, writers’ PRO memberships, and the proportion of each song’s royalties controlled by ASCAP. The coder then determined whether or not each credited writer was a member of the band and referenced the number of members in each band in the year each song was released. For each song the total number of band members credited as writers was tallied. Twenty-two bands (22/140, or 16%) were identified for which split data could be inferred.

The basis for inferring how a song’s royalties are split involved dividing the total writer’s share by the number of credited writers for the song, then evaluating whether the percentage due to each writer under an equal split arrangement was a factor of the percent controlled by ASCAP. If so, the song was classified as split equally; otherwise, the song was classified as not split equally.187The range of comparison in non-integer cases was expanded to allow for share allocations that round up or down by one. For example, for a song with two writers, if ASCAP controls 50% of the writer’s share of royalties, it follows that the non-ASCAP writer is receiving the remaining 50%.188Traditionally, income from music publishing is evenly divided between the songwriter or songwriters (“writer’s share”) and the publisher or publishers (“publisher’s share”). PROs forward 50% of the publishing income from a song, less fees, to the writers and the other 50% to the publishers, representing 100% of the income earned. The stated purpose of conveying the writer’s share directly to the writers, rather than having it distributed to the writers by the publishers, is to prevent unscrupulous behavior on the part of the publishers. See Passman, supra note 114, at 242. ASCAP lists 100% of the writer’s share of public performance royalty as 50%, as it is half (along with the 50% publisher’s share) of the whole public performance right. On the other hand, if ASCAP controls more or less than 50%, the writers are splitting unequally.189If a song has three writers, one of whom is a member of ASCAP, which controls 33.3% of the writer’s share of royalties, then the song was classified as equally split, since under an equal split arrangement between the three writers, each writer would be entitled to a 33.3% share.

2. Results

The two approaches for identifying royalty splits used in Study 2a—compiling the splits of bands that have publicly disclosed their arrangements and inferring splits using the ASCAP repertory—converge in suggesting that approximately 80% split equally. Both methods suggest a majority190Z-test of one proportion (> 50%). of uneven bands nevertheless split royalties equally: the results of the online searches found that 83% (24/29) of disclosed splits were equal among band members; the PRO data suggests that 77% (17/22) of the bands split equally.

Using these two strategies, Study 2a was able to account for 33% of the uneven Gold Record bands that include all members as co-authors (46/140). The two methodologies produced results for different bands, with the exception of six bands for which results were found both ways. For these six bands, the different methodologies led to the same assigned split. These results indicate that most lesser contributors receive an equal split in the context of music groups. Study 2b investigates whether this is also true of co-written songs more generally.

B. Study 2b: All Co-authored Songs

To go beyond how bands split royalties and to infer whether lesser contributors for all co-authored songs tend to be rewarded equally, I applied the strategy of inferring splits based on the proportion of royalties controlled by ASCAP to all eligible co-authored songs in the ASCAP repertory.

1. Methodology

The ASCAP repertory contains nearly 7 million songs.1916,985,181 songs. ASCAP allows anyone to request its repertory. See SESAC Repertory, supra note 184. More than 2.5 million of these songs are credited to two or more authors.1922,612,687 songs. See id. However, royalty splits can only be inferred in cases where a song’s royalties are controlled by both ASCAP and another PRO. There were a few steps involved in identifying those songs,193The repertory as provided by ASCAP includes the total share of songwriting royalties controlled by ASCAP (writers’ shares and publishers’ shares), and the names of writers of each song. Details on the writer’s share controlled by ASCAP are, however, available in ASCAP’s online repertory. The list of co-authored songs was filtered to include only those songs for which ASCAP controlled less than 100% and more than 0% of the total songwriting royalties. The total share controlled by ASCAP was a useful coarse filter for reducing the list of songs for which ASCAP-controlled writer’s share data was then compiled by web scraping. and ultimately royalty split data was obtained for 1,237,764 works; this covers 92% of the songs ASCAP only partially controls, amounting to 48% of all co-authored songs in the ASCAP repertory.194To note, 8% of the songs on the reduced list of co-authored songs did not have entries in the online repertory and consequently no data was available for those titles.

Each song’s royalties were classified as split equally or split unequally, by the same methodology adopted in Study 2a. To account for potential misclassifications of unequally split songs as equally split songs, I estimated that a reasonable lower bound for the total proportion of equal split songs should include an 8% downward adjustment on the result of this classification method.195When songs were credited to three or four writers, additional steps were taken to reduce the potential for uncertainty in these split estimates. To adjust for the possibility of three-writer splits where, for example, ASCAP controls 33% but two writers are members of ASCAP and the split is therefore unequal (Writers 1 and 2 share 33%, Writer 3 gets 66%), further information was sought. For both three-writer, and four-writer songs, a randomly generated sample of one hundred songs was checked against ASCAP song registrations to obtain a measure of the frequency of unequal splits of the structure described. The frequency of such “hidden inequality” was 5% for three-writer songs and 11% for four-writer songs; taking the average suggests an adjustment of 8%. While it is possible that those splits could still be unequal (for example, Writer 1 gets 33% and instead of splitting the remaining 66% as 33% to each of Writer 2 and Writer 3, the split is Writer 2 gets 40% and Writer 3 gets 26%), this seems unlikely enough as to be insignificant, particularly as the first order adjustments are small. The most frequently observed number of co-authors in both the Gold Record songs list (38%) and the ASCAP co-authored songs list (62%) is two writers. A similarly small proportion of songs are credited to six or more writers in both the ASCAP (1%) and Gold Record song lists (4%). In both the ASCAP co-authored songs data and the Gold Record bands data, recurrent collaborations are the norm: the nature of a band is that collaborative writer-name combinations occur for most of the band’s songs. In the ASCAP co-authored songs data, the median number of repeated collaborations was five, though most collaborative writer-name combinations occur only once. This gave an estimate of the overall proportion of equally split songs in the all co-authored songs ASCAP data.

The next step was to estimate the proportion of those equally split songs that were produced through uneven contributions by collaborators. As a guide, I referenced the proportions of bands including all members as co-authors for Gold Record bands whose songs were composed by members’ contributions which were even, uneven, or without contributions by all members. These two datasets are similar at a high level based on the available data.196The ASCAP repertory does not include information on the covariates of the Gold Record database (songwriting contributions, genre, region, decade, or representative band size). The Gold Record bands’ songs list contains 1% of the songs in the ASCAP co-authored songs data. This reflects the small number of music groups earning Gold Record certifications.

2. Results

A significant majority (63%) of the co-authored songs split royalties equally.197p<0.001. To answer the research question, I needed to identify the subset of the ASCAP songs that were written with uneven contributions; however, the full dataset also includes songs written with even contributions, gift credits,198A “gift credit” is a writing credit naming someone who did not contribute copyrightable expression to the work. Gift credits are common. Telephone interview with Scott Jungmichel, Senior Vice President of Royalty Distrib. & Royalty Rsch. Servs., SESAC (May 1, 2017). and sampling. As a guide for inferring the size of the subset of interest, I refer to Study 1 for the relative shares of the three categories of songwriting contributions of the Gold Record bands including all members as co-authors: even (30%), uneven (44%), and some members do not contribute (26%). Relying on these proportions, I first assume that of the 63% of equal split ASCAP songs, 30% were written with even contributions. The remaining 33% equal split ASCAP songs I assume to have been written with uneven contributions. I assume that 26% of the unequal ASCAP songs credit as writers individuals who did not make a copyrightable contribution (based on the proportion of some members do not contribute bands which did the same). This leaves 11% of the unequal split ASCAP songs assumed to be uneven contributions songs (37% unequal minus 26%), and suggests that the proportion of unevencontributions songs that is equally split is 75%. A further adjustment should be made to account for the possibility of “hidden inequality” described above,199See supra Section IV.B.1. which adjusts the estimated proportion downward by 8% to 67%.

This number is lower than the approximately 80% in Study 2a. One reason for this is that I have not taken into account sampling. Sampling inflates the number of total co-written songs, and specifically the number of unequal songs.200An estimated 15–25% of songs use samples of other songs. Tracklib Presents State of Sampling 2019, Tracklib, https://www.tracklib.com/blog/tracklib-presents-state-of-sampling-2019/ [https://
perma.cc/A4V8-WALF]. Sampling requires licensing both the sound recording and the song itself. This normally involves an advance payment plus sharing a portion of the copyright income of the song in which the sample is used. On the publishing side, the typical range is 10–30% of royalties, Passman, supra note 114, at 250–51, indicating a likelihood of an unequal split.

There is no difference in equal splitting between name combinations that only appear once (66%) versus at least ten times (65%). Number of collaborations for a set of writers was negatively associated with equal splitting,201p < 0.001. but nevertheless majority preference for equal splitting remained significant even with collaborative groupings with over one hundred credited works together (57%).202p < 0.001. A higher number of credited writers was negatively associated with equal splitting.203p < 0.001. The majority preference for equal splitting flips with five or more writers (27%).204p < 0.001. Higher numbers of co-writers also increase the chances of unequal splitting attributable to sampling. Because songs with more credited writers are not necessarily more complex or longer than songs with fewer co-writers, higher numbers of writers also reduce the likelihood that all credited writers have made copyrightable contributions, increasing the probability that the writing credits include gift credits, which may also contribute to rates of unequal splitting for songs with many co-authors.

V. GENERAL DISCUSSION

In this final Part, I review some limitations of the studies and how the findings answer the research questions, along with caveats on the support for the equal split rule. I discuss the legal implications and contributions of this research and preview other work focusing on the mechanisms that potentially drive these co-author inclusion and equal split practices.

A. Limitations

There are several limitations to the data and results of these studies; here I consider some of the most noteworthy. First, whereas a comprehensive database could be constructed to investigate the question of co-author inclusion (Study 1), this was not possible for exploring how royalties are split (Study 2). Instead, there are the convergent lines of Studies 2a and 2b. Each study involved making assumptions during data collection or analysis, which were necessary on account of data or resource limitations. To the extent these assumptions are not supported, the studies’ results and implications may be affected.

The results of the Gold Record database analysis may reflect survivor bias. Only a small fraction of all music groups earns Gold Records; it may be that less successful music groups are less likely to include minor contributors as co-authors. Although it cannot be ruled out, this seems unlikely because bands’ co-author inclusion choices are early business decisions in the groups’ lives, made before the arrival of great success, and are most often stable.

Songs are short by convention, which precluded investigating preferences when disparities in contributions are of the magnitude present in Aalmuhammed.205                                           Aalmuhammed v. Lee, 202 F.3d 1227, 1233 (9th Cir. 2000). Still, as discussed, the control doctrine has been applied more often than not regardless of the magnitude of the parties’ contributions, and, as argued, co-songwriting is the most important domain where the default rules are likely to apply in practice.

Figure 2.  Studies 1 & 2: Research Questions and Results

B. Summary of Findings

The control doctrine has resulted in the exclusion of lesser contributors from joint authorship when there was no contract between the collaborators. This, along with other problematic effects, has caused some scholars to propose returning to the pre-control legal regime and retaining the equal split rule. Others propose putting in place a proportional split default rule to better address the concerns with the control doctrine, and implicitly, align with creators’ assumed allocation preferences.

To identify the best choices, Studies 1 and 2 sought to uncover the actual preferences of co-songwriters. I have argued that the best option for co-songwriters is presumptively the best rule on the whole for those collaborating to produce joint works.

1. Are Lesser Contributors Counted as Co-authors?

First, I explored whether or not lesser contributors in co-songwriting are typically rewarded with co-authorship (Study 1). To observe the leap from contributor to co-author, I constructed the Gold Record database of 1,003 bands—every band that both has a Gold Record and writes its own songs. I found that the inclusion of lesser contributors as co-authors has steadily increased for the past six decades, becoming the typical practice (63%) beginning in the 1990s. I also found that 75% of bands never changed their initial practice of including or not including all members as co-authors. This is consistent with a stable level of songwriting contributions. When bands did shift from their initial co-author crediting choices, it tended to be in the direction of more, rather than less, co-author inclusion. This could be explained by an increase in members’ songwriting contributions, but it also raises questions for future investigation about a possible ratcheting effect, whereby it is hard to renegotiate a generous initial co-author inclusion practice.

The strength of the co-author inclusion result is notable given the heterogeneity of the data, which includes bands from subgenres as diverse as Norteño, Metalcore, Eurodance, Contemporary Christian, Children’s Music, and Punk Rock. The music created by these groups appeals to a wide spectrum of people’s tastes.

This practice runs counter to the de facto exclusion of lesser contributors under the control doctrine. Additionally, to the extent that control is incompatible with recognizing more than a few authors because it is understood as a right to override others’ creative choices,206See id. at 1233 (“[Artistic control] would generally limit authorship to someone at the top of the screen credits . . . .”); Goldstein, supra note 9, § 4.2.1.2. the results are not consistent with co-songwriters sharing that view: songs created through the uneven contributions of four collaborators typically credit all involved.207To the extent that “control” is understood as control over one’s own contributions rather than the entire work, it is compatible with the findings. However, that has been a minority interpretation of the control doctrine. See supra note 70 and accompanying text.

Although this preference data strengthens the case against the control doctrine, I find support for limits on grants of co-authorship even for contributors who have made copyrightable contributions. When group size exceeds four contributors, having made a copyrightable contribution—even an equal one—is no longer treated as sufficient for co-authorship in most cases. Thus, considerations beyond contributions do play a role in deciding who is granted co-authorship credit for a joint work, at least in collaborations at scale. This is consistent with the view in Aalmuhammed that “as the number of contributors grows and the work itself becomes less the product of one or two individuals, . . . the word [‘author’] is harder to apply.”208Aalmuhammed, 202 F.3d at 1232. Future research might investigate what these other considerations may be. Nevertheless, in the case of co-songwriting, the findings suggest large collaborations are uncommon. On the whole, the concepts and consequences of the control test are at odds with the revealed preferences of this significant creator population. Because it cuts against these revealed preferences, the transaction costs of the current legal regime are presumptively high to the extent that parties seek to contract out (though the data does not report contracting rates).

Future research may explore what accounts for this inclusivity trend. It may be due in part to an increase in the kinds of bands that tend to include all contributors as co-authors, such as smaller bands. There have also been changes in music industry standards and practices, which may have played a role. First, mechanical songwriting royalties doubled—and continued to increase over time—after the Copyright Act of 1976.209See Mechanical License Royalty Rates, U.S. Copyright Off., https://www.copyright.gov/
licensing/m200a.pdf [https://perma.cc/3XVH-3GFG].
As songwriting royalties increased in value, more band members may have sought a piece of the pie. Including all members as co-authors may have facilitated agreements to feature the strongest songs on albums without generating animosity.210See, e.g., Ryan Reed, Why Genesis Started Writing Shorter Songs: Exclusive Interview, UCR (Mar. 26, 2018), https://ultimateclassicrock.com/genesis-tony-banks-songwriting/ [https://perma.cc/
WR2C-R73Z] (interview with Tony Banks of Genesis); Richard Buskin, Classic Tracks: 10cc ‘I’m Not In Love,’ Sound On Sound (June 2005), https://www.soundonsound.com/techniques/classic-tracks-10cc-not-love [https://perma.cc/6TJL-FJUJ] (interview with Eric Stewart of 10cc). Both give this reason for equal royalty splits regardless of actual authorship.
Second, there were changes in what contributions were viewed as “songwriting.” In early Rock, the melody writer was considered the writer of the song. Early Rock was rooted in the Blues, and the rhythm portion of the song was often an uncopyrightable standard.211See Tom W. Bell, Intellectual Privilege: Copyright, Common Law, and the Common Good 21 (2014) (“[C]ourts have repeatedly protected stock scenarios and motifs . . . from suffering capture within copyright’s exclusive rights. The balcony scene, one-point perspective, blues chord progressions, and other creative building blocks thus remain free for all authors to use and reuse.” (footnote omitted)); Timothy J. McFarlin, Father(s?) of Rock & Roll: Why the Johnnie Johnson v. Chuck Berry Songwriting Suit Should Change the Way Copyright Law Determines Joint Authorship, 17 Vand. J. Ent. & Tech. L. 575, 643 (2015) (“Johnson may have been playing what was, by itself, a preexisting or otherwise uncopyrightable blues chord progression or riff.”); Michael J. Madison, Intellectual Property and Americana, or Why IP Gets the Blues, 18 Fordham Intell. Prop. Media & Ent. L.J. 677, 700–01 (2008) (“[T]he law sees in the blues not the concrete and protectable, but the general and the unprotectable. Individual notes and chords are ‘facts’; chord progressions are ‘ideas’ necessary to expression within the genre . . . . Repetition of rhythms, riffs, and even melodies does not constitute ‘originality’ or ‘authorship’ in a copyright sense.”). Third, musicians have arguably become savvier as Rock culture has developed. In early Rock, the only legally sophisticated party was often the producer, studio owner, label owner, or bandleader. It was in that person’s best interest to limit the number of writers on the song and, if possible, add themselves as writers.212Shourin Sen, The Denial of a General Performance Right in Sound Recordings: A Policy that Facilitates Our Democratic Civil Society?, 21 Harv. J. L. & Tech. 233, 241–42 (2007).

2. Do Lesser Contributing Co-authors Receive Less Royalties?

The converging lines of evidence from Studies 2a and 2b suggest that royalties are typically split equally, even with lesser contributing co-authors (over 70% of the time).213See, e.g., LaFrance, supra note 76. In Study 2a, the songwriting royalty splits of a third of the uneven contributions Gold Record bands were inferred based on information disclosed by the bands’ inner circles or ASCAP; in Study 2b, splits were inferred for co-songwriting more broadly, based on a sample of more than a quarter of co-authored songs registered with U.S. PROs.214I take this to be a conservative estimate. ASCAP and BMI have 90% market share; the co-authored songs are 48% of co-authored songs in ASCAP’s repertory, most commonly listed also in BMI’s repertoire. Perhaps surprisingly, the underlying preference assumptions of scholars who have argued the law should be revised to favor contribution-based splits were not supported. Instead, the results throw support behind the proponents of the existing equal split rule.

As with initial co-author inclusion choices, there was stability in initial split choices. Co-authors who wrote together only once were as likely to split royalties equally as co-authors who collaborated one hundred times. 

C. Legal Implications

Study 1 affirms the conventional wisdom, endangered by the control doctrine, that contributions are the most important consideration in granting co-authorship. Songwriting contributions overshadowed differences of genre, region, band size, and era. The copyrightability considerations standards have been on somewhat shaky ground as control has expanded to trump other factors in co-authorships tests. These results provide additional support for pushing back against that trend and reasserting a contributions-centered way of thinking about who is a co-author.

At the same time, the results imply that once co-authors are recognized, their comparative contributions are often disregarded when they allocate proceeds among themselves. Co-authorship practices appear as a step-function, rather than a matter of degree. Rather than provide a mandate for establishing a contributions-based default split rule, the findings suggest that the equal split rule is consistent with preferences and does not deter grants of co-authorship to lesser contributors. Taken together, Studies 1 and 2 suggest that equal co-authorship for lesser contributors is the practice of a plurality of the involved co-songwriters. On this basis, the studies lend support to the statutory intent to merge copyrightable contributions standards, or, at least, support the suggestion by Professor Mary LaFrance, and others, that a rebuttable presumption of intent is appropriate.

A return to the intent to merge co-authorship standard would predictably reach undesirable results in certain industries, most notably the film industry and editorial relationships. This section discusses two possible responses.215A third response could be industry-specific joint authorship rules. See, e.g., Kwall, supra note 87, at 62–63; McFarlin, supra note 211, at 660–61; Gregory S. Donat, Fixing Fixation: A Copyright with Teeth for Improvisational Performers, 97 Colum. L. Rev. 1363, 1403–04 (1997); Susan Keller, Collaboration in Theater: Problems and Copyright Solutions, 33 UCLA L. Rev. 891, 935 (1986). The industry-specific nature of patent law is well-attested. See Dan L. Burk & Mark A. Lemley, Is Patent Law Technology-Specific?, 17 Berkeley Tech. L.J. 1155, 1158–85 (2002). And industry-specific carve-outs are well-known in copyright law; for example, the blanket inclusion of all creative motion picture contributions as potential works made for hire. 17 U.S.C. § 101; see also Peter DiCola, Music Copyright, in 2 Research Handbook on the Economics of Intellectual Property: Analytical Methods 565–66 (Peter Menell & David Schwartz eds., 2019) (discussing ways in which copyright law is tailored to the music industry, notably in infringement); Joseph P. Liu, Regulatory Copyright, 83 N.C. L. Rev. 87 (2004). Yet this rule was the result of intense industry lobbying. Cf. Burk & Lemley, supra note 6, at 1637 (warning of “counterproductive special interest lobbying” in tailored patent legislation). Furthermore, creative industry standards, when they can be identified, may run contrary to black letter copyright law, with little room for modification except through legislation. See, e.g., Effects Assocs., Inc. v. Cohen, 908 F.2d 555, 556–57 (9th Cir. 1990) (discussing the apparent custom of unwritten exclusive transfers in the film industry). Or, consider an industry default based on the outcome of 16 Casa Duse, LLC v. Merkin, 791 F.3d 247, 265–65 (2d Cir. 2015): all film work would be work made for hire, even in the absence of a contract. An industry-based approach would need to take into account these and other challenges to further the utilitarian ends of copyright. See generally Polcz, supra note 7.

First, any default rule will not satisfy all situations. Parties can contract out of the default rule, and it is reasonable to expect that sophisticated parties will do so. Inevitably some may fail to put in place a contract through pure oversight. But it is inefficient to change the rule when such oversights are exceptional. In other contexts, when parties failed to contract around default rules, there have been costly settlements that have no doubt subsequently increased attention to such matters down the road.216See, e.g., Samantha Drake, Co-Founders Could Have Avoided Legal Drama on Eve of Self-Driving Car Deal, Forbes (July 14, 2016), https://www.forbes.com/sites/samanthadrake1/2016/
07/14/co-founders-could-have-avoided-legal-drama-on-eve-of-self-driving-car-deal [https://perma.cc/
82WU-NYW9] (“[T]he apparent failure to document the scope of an alleged co-founder’s contribution at the San Francisco-based Cruise came back to haunt it on the eve of the startup’s acquisition.”).

Second, future research might explore a parameter-based approach to co-authorship determinations. For example, the number of collaborations was associated with co-author inclusion and royalty split. There has been considerable theoretical debate over the extent to which defaults should be “tailored” (that is, modified) such that they lead to different results for different parties based on some relevant characteristic. This has been recognized to potentially lead to more efficient outcomes by better reflecting decisions that parties would actually make in a costless environment.217See Richard Craswell, Contract Law: General Theories, in 3 Encyclopedia of Law and Economics: The Regulation of Contracts 1, 5 (Boudewijn Bouckaert & Gerrit De Geest eds., 2000); Stewart J. Schwab, Life-Cycle Justice: Accommodating Just Cause and Employment at Will, 92 Mich. L. Rev. 8, 52 (1993). Default tailoring comes with costs: the cost to lawmakers of identifying and implementing the most efficient tailoring, and the cost to parties of interacting with a default more specific to their circumstances than a one-size-fits-all rule.218See Ayres & Gertner, supra note 133, at 117–18; Christopher R. Drahozal & Peter B. Rutledge, Contract and Procedure, 94 Marq. L. Rev. 1103, 1160 (2011) (stating that a complex rule may be a more efficient rule if efficiency gains outweigh increased information costs); Robert E. Scott, A Relational Theory of Default Rules for Commercial Contracts, 19 J. Legal Stud. 597, 598 (1990) (noting that rule complexity increases costs). Thus, the most efficiently tailored rule is likely one that reflects a discrete set of common practices, thereby reducing information costs. This may be why previous proposals to tailor the equal split default have focused on industry-based tailoring as a commonsense default unit. This Article has suggested that the number of collaborators is one potential parameter; if the size of collaborative groups predicts split preference across genres and regions, it is worth investigating whether it is a useful predictor across industries. Pursuing this and other leads219See George S. Geis, An Experiment in the Optimal Precision of Contract Default Rules, 80 Tul. L. Rev. 1109, 1129 (2006) (arguing that optimal tailoring must be based on empirical data). See generally Ariel Porat & Lior Jacob Strahilevitz, Personalizing Default Rules and Disclosure with Big Data, 112 Mich. L. Rev. 1417 (2014). Analysis of empirical data has increasingly been used to challenge conventional wisdom in a variety of copyright contexts. See, e.g., Christopher Buccafusco & Paul J. Heald, Do Bad Things Happen When Works Enter the Public Domain?: Empirical Tests of Copyright Term Extension, 28 Berkeley Tech. L.J. 1, 17–28 (2013) (using audiobook data to question prevailing rationales for copyright term extension); Kristelia García, James Hicks & Justin McCrary, Copyright and Economic Viability: Evidence from the Music Industry, 17 J. Empirical Legal Stud. 696 (2020) (finding that sound recordings largely exhaust their economic value long before the termination of the copyright term); Glynn S. Lunney, Jr., Copyright and the 1%, 23 Stan. Tech. L. Rev. 1 (2020) (supporting copyright reform proposals with video game usage data); see also DiCola, supra note 215, at 567 (discussing empirical data-gathering difficulties particular to the music industry). may bring about gains in efficient tailoring over and above what is possible with industry-based rules.220The goal is to find the tipping point at which the rule is tailored to the extent that such tailoring maximizes efficiency: where further tailoring would increase net transaction costs. Porat & Strahilevitz, supra note 219, at 1423.

D. Why Equality: Mechanisms

The data presented suggest that when it comes to relative rewards, co-songwriters, on balance, prefer equal over contributions-based allocations—even in unequal collaborations. What can account for this surprising preference for equality? A systematic investigation of the preference mechanisms at work is out of the scope of this Article. I conclude here by priming intuitions connected with the theoretical framework I use elsewhere for that purpose.

Context often determines which of a few interpersonal allocation rules we find to be most psychologically rewarding. There are many contexts in which we find equality—where everyone is rewarded in the same quantities—to be the most psychologically rewarding state of affairs. Under other circumstances, we may prefer contribution-based remuneration. A context can be defined, for example, by who is involved or what goals are involved. There are patterns to when we are likely to have these preferences, which have been studied under various research traditions in distributive justice.221See Robert J. MacCoun & Sarah Polcz, Distributive Justice Norms, Social Value Orientations, and Social Relations Models: An Integrative Account, in Soc. Psych. & Just. 93, 93 (E. Allan Lind ed., 2020). Earlier, I noted that the members of a large number of bands are friends or family members. Theories that can provide a way of thinking about the influence of parties’ close relationships on the allocations they prefer when distributing a resource—such as royalties—among themselves, are most conducive for understanding this equality preference.222See generally Alan Page Fiske, Structures of Social Life: The Four Elementary Forms of Human Relations 6063 (1991) (discussing four models for the distribution of resources).

CONCLUSION

The trends in co-songwriters’ preferences revealed by this research offer the first comprehensive look into decisions made every year, hundreds of thousands of times, offering a point of reference for creators. In songwriting, co-authorship matters. Not only does it confer status; it also confers money. For some musicians, co-authorship royalties are their retirement plan. As the lead singer in an all-female Punk Rock band explained songwriting credits, “we’re straight up talking business here.”223Telephone Interview with Julia Kugel-Montoya (Sept. 17, 2017).

And yet, in this Article I have looked at this “business” decision of how to share co-authorship and found that short-term financial self-interest is not the end of the story: main songwriters share songwriting credit, and songwriting royalties, much more generously than the standard by which lesser contributors would be rewarded under the control test. This revealed preference suggests that we can adopt a more inclusive legal criterion for co-authorship while retaining the equal split default and that we can do so without violating creators’ own sense of fairness.

APPENDIX

Table A1.  Logistic Regression for Gold Record Bands 1959–2021: Are All Members Included as Co-authors?

Variable

log(OR)

95% CI

p-value

Songwriting (ref. cat.: Some members do not contribute)

     

Even

2.9

2.4, 3.5

<0.001**

Uneven

1.8

1.4, 2.1

<0.001**

Decade (ref. cat.: 1980s)

     

1960s and earlier

-0.94

-1.7, -0.20

0.016*

1970s

-0.33

-1.0, 0.27

0.3

1990s

0.50

0.06, 1.0

0.026*

2000s

0.74

0.23, 1.2

0.004**

2010s and later

0.90

0.23, 1.2

0.004**

Members (ref. cat.: 4)

     

2

0.91

0.43, 1.4

<0.001**

3

0.02

-0.42, 0.45

>0.9

5

-0.61

-1.1, -0.11

0.017*

6+

-1.5

-2.6, -0.56

0.003**

Genre (ref. cat.: Pop)

     

Rock

0.37

-0.14, 0.89

0.2

Hip Hop, R&B, Gospel, Jazz

-0.79

-1.4, -0.16

0.014*

Country

-1.0

-2.0, -0.09

0.034*

Metal

0.27

-0.52, 1.0

0.5

Latin

-1.5

-3.0, -0.18

0.032*

Punk

0.87

-0.29, 2.0

0.13

Electronic

-0.50

-1.8, 0.90

0.5

Reggae

1.0

-1.6, 4.1

0.5

 

Region (ref. cat.: Northeast)

     

Midwest

-0.68

-1.4, 0.04

0.069

West

0.01

-0.49, 0.51

>0.9

South

0.11

-0.43, 0.65

0.7

Non-USA

0.26

-0.26, 0.78

0.3

Notes: *p < 0.05; **p < 0.005.

     

96 S. Cal. L. Rev. 607

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Fellow, Stanford Law School. For comments on versions of this Article, I thank Lisa Ouellette, Paul Goldstein, Robert MacCoun, Samantha Zyontz, Joel Shor, Anna Lewis, and Adam Brown. For helpful feedback, I also thank the participants of the 2022 Copyright Scholarship Roundtable at Columbia Law School, the Stanford Legal Research in Progress Workshop 2020, the Intellectual Property Scholars Conference 2020 at Stanford Law School, and the Works-in-Progress Intellectual Property Colloquium 2020 at Santa Clara University School of Law. Thank you to Matthew Kelleher and William Button for outstanding research support.

Toward a New Fair Use Standard: Attributive Use and the Closing of Copyright’s Crediting Gap

A generation ago, Judge Pierre Leval published Toward a Fair Use Standard and forever changed copyright law. Leval advocated for the primacy of an implicit, but previously underappreciated, factor in the fair use calculus—transformative use. Courts quickly heeded this call, rendering the impact of Leval’s article nothing short of seismic. But for all of its merits, Leval’s article failed to acknowledge or consider the salience of another largely underrecognized and heretofore unnamed factor: attributive use. 

This Article attempts to address this oversight, particularly when viewed in light of the current law of crediting in the twenty years since Dastar Corp. v. Twentieth Century Fox Film Corp., the Supreme Court’s decision to permanently foreclose the most common method by which creatives had previously vindicated their crediting interests—the Lanham Act’s prohibition on false designations of origin. After assessing the recent body of empirical work highlighting both the quantitative and qualitative importance of attribution to authors and the value of crediting to consumers, investors, and the broader public, the Article scrutinizes the current state of attribution rights to argue that, post-Dastar, the remaining legal mechanisms for securing crediting, including private contracting, have proven insufficient. 

To address this crediting gap in the law, the Article considers, but rejects, calls to overturn Dastar or enact an independent general attribution right under the Copyright Act. Instead, I propose a more modest solution that needs no congressional action. Like transformative use, attribution promotes progress in the arts by motivating and incentivizing authorial production. Moreover, as this Article’s careful exegesis of the relevant case law demonstrates, issues of crediting have long shaped the contours of the fair use defense. As such, I advocate for the formal adoption of attributive use as an express consideration in the fair use calculus. The Article therefore builds on Leval’s influential work and calls for the formulation of a new fair use standard that more closely calibrates the defense with the utilitarian goals of our copyright regime.

INTRODUCTION

A.  Pierre Leval’s Toward a Fair Use Standard and Copyright’s Crediting Gap

Thirty years ago, Pierre Leval penned1Pierre N. Leval, Toward a Fair Use Standard, 103 Harv. L. Rev. 1105 (1990). what would become one the most influential pieces of legal scholarship of the past generation.2To use one metric, as of the end of 2021, 89 reported decisions had cited Leval’s article and Westlaw’s KEYCITE counted a whopping 1,658 citing references to it. As a federal judge who had then served for twelve years on the Southern District of New York, Leval crafted Toward a Fair Use Standard after he had watched two of his copyright decisions, including his finding that a biographer had made fair use of J.D. Salinger’s unpublished letters, eviscerated by the Second Circuit.3See Leval, supra note 1, at 1105 (noting that his article was inspired by the Second Circuit’s disagreement with his opinions in Salinger v. Random House, Inc., 650 F. Supp. 413 (S.D.N.Y. 1986), rev’d, 811 F.2d 90 (2d Cir. 1987) (1987) and New Era Publ’ns Int’l, ApS v. Henry Holt & Co., 695 F. Supp. 1493 (S.D.N.Y. 1988), aff’d on other grounds, 873 F.2d 576 (2d Cir. 1989)). Leval would eventually sit on the Second Circuit. In reflecting upon these repudiations, Leval critiqued his erstwhile approach to the fair use calculus as excessively ad hoc and sought, instead, to fashion a series of governing principles to guide application of the doctrine in future cases.4Id. at 1105–07. In so doing, Leval scrutinized the metes and bounds of the copyright monopoly holistically and posited that infringement claims and fair use defenses both serve the overarching utilitarian goal of the copyright regime, which “stimulate[s] activity and progress in the arts for the intellectual enrichment of the public.”5Id. at 1107. With the premise that fair use is not an exception to copyright protection but, rather, a part of the design of copyright law to encourage creativity, he then identified transformative, or productive, use—use that “employ[s] the [original] matter in a different manner or for a different purpose”6Id. at 1111.—as a driving7Id. at 1116 (“Factor One is the soul of fair use.”). concern8Id. at 1111 (“Does the use fulfill the objective of copyright law to stimulate creativity for public illumination? This question is vitally important to the fair use inquiry, and lies at the heart of the fair user’s case. Recent judicial opinions have not sufficiently recognized its importance.”). in the calculus.9Notably, however, Leval took pains to caution that transformative use was not necessarily outcome determinative. “The existence of any identifiable transformative objective does not,” he warned, 

guarantee success in claiming fair use. The transformative justification must overcome factors favoring the copyright owner. A biographer or critic of a writer may contend that unlimited quotation enriches the portrait or justifies the criticism. The creator of a derivative work based on the original creation of another may claim absolute entitlement because of the transformation. Nonetheless, extensive takings may impinge on creative incentives. And the secondary user’s claim under the first factor is weakened to the extent that her takings exceed the asserted justification. The justification will likely be outweighed if the takings are excessive and other factors favor the copyright owner.

Id. at 1111–12.

Toward a Fair Use Standard quickly precipitated a sea change in the way courts approached application of the fair use doctrine. Only a few years after its publication in the Harvard Law Review, the Supreme Court drew heavily on Leval’s article in famously holding that the transformative nature of 2 Live Crew’s unauthorized parody of Roy Orbison’s Pretty Woman insulated the song from infringement liability under the fair use doctrine.10See Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, Inc., 510 U.S. 569, 579 (1994) (drawing on Toward a Fair Use Standard to assert that “the goal of copyright, to promote science and the arts, is generally furthered by the creation of transformative works. Such works thus lie at the heart of the fair use doctrine’s guarantee of breathing space within the confines of copyright”). In the process, the Supreme Court elevated the standing of Leval’s work, enshrining it as a seminal tome on copyright law—one that took a rightful place right beside the actual text of section 107 of the Copyright Act in guiding fair use determinations. Toward a Fair Use Standard continues to enjoy a prized place in the copyright firmament. In 2021, in its first fair use pronouncement since Campbell v. Acuff-Rose, the Supreme Court liberally sprinkled citations to Leval’s article through the course of its opinion determining that Google’s exploitation of Oracle’s copyrighted Sun Java application programming interface (“API”) constituted fair use.11Google LLC v. Oracle Am., Inc., 141 S. Ct. 1183, 1197, 1202–04 (2021). Transformation once again lies at the heart of the analysis, as the Court posited that Google’s actions helped “expand the use and usefulness of Android-based smartphones. . . . [by] creat[ing] a new platform that could be readily used by programmers” to develop new programs in the Android environment.12Id. at 1203. The transformative nature of Google’s use did not just determine the first fair use factor; it also subsumed the third and fourth factors of the fair use analysis as well. Thus, despite the extensive use of the Java API, the Court waived away the substantial borrowing that Google made by noting that “[t]he ‘substantiality’ factor will generally weigh in favor of fair use where, as here, the amount of copying was tethered to a valid, and transformative, purpose.” Id. at 1205. And, the fact that Google’s transformative use of the Java API spurned the development of new programs and progress in the arts weighed against viewing Google’s use as a cognizable market harm to Oracle: “to allow enforcement of Oracle’s copyright here would risk harm to the public. Given the costs and difficulties of producing alternative APIs with similar appeal to programmers, allowing enforcement here would make of the Sun Java API’s declaring code a lock limiting the future creativity of new programs.” Id. at 1208.

It should come as no surprise then that, in the words of one observer, “Leval’s commentary on the centrality of transformativeness in interpreting fair use decisively changed the way the copyright doctrine was interpreted. He leveraged the forum successfully to accomplish what he had been unable to accomplish thereto in judicial decision-making.”13Patricia Aufderheide, Articles That Matter: Leval, Pierre N. Toward a Fair Use Standard, 103 Harv. L. Rev. 1105 (1990), 25 Comm. L. & Pol’y 412, 412 (2020). Even those who have critiqued Leval’s article have acknowledged its importance and remarkable influence. Scott Alan Burroughs, for example, has upbraided Leval for “upend[ing] 150 years of established jurisprudence” and making “an increasingly muddy morass of the ‘fair use’ doctrine.” Scott Alan Burroughs, The Tyranny of Fair Use (Part III): A Judge’s Critique, Explosive Data, and One Sad Saga, Above the Law (Mar. 6, 2019, 4:00 PM), https://abovethelaw.com/2019/03/the-tyranny-of-fair-use-part-iii-a-judges-critique-explosive-data-and-one-sad-saga [https://perma.cc/LFU5-6ZHP]. Nevertheless, Burroughs concedes that Toward a Fair Use Standard “forever changed the state of author’s rights.” Scott Alan Burroughs, The Tyranny of Fair Use (Part II): One Person’s Outsized Impact on Copyright Law, Above the Law (Feb. 27, 2019, 5:17 PM), https://abovethelaw.com/2019/02/the-tyranny-of-fair-use-part-ii-one-persons-outsized-impact-on-copyright-law [https://perma.cc/KM7A-EF3Z] (further noting that “Judge Leval’s creation, elevation, and entrenchment of a ‘fair use’ factor that did not appear in the statute or caselaw and ran afoul of one of the author’s limited exclusive statutory rights has not gone unnoticed”). Although Leval’s elevation of transformative use to paramount importance in the fair use calculus has enjoyed widespread adoption, including blessing from the Supreme Court, it has not been without some pockets of judicial resistance. In a Seventh Circuit decision, for example, Judge Frank Easterbrook implicitly critiqued Leval’s position, noting that transformation is “not one of the statutory factors” in § 107 and arguing that excessive reliance on transformation “not only replaces the list in § 107 but also could override 17 U.S.C. § 106(2), which protects derivative works. To say that a new use transforms the work is precisely to say that it is derivative and thus, one might suppose, protected under § 106(2).” Kienitz v. Sconnie Nation LLC, 766 F.3d 756, 758 (7th Cir. 2014). This view is not merely anecdotal or impressionistic. The rapid rise of transformation as a crucial, if not decisive, factor in fair use decisions due to Leval’s article is nothing short of stunning. A recent empirical study determined that almost ninety percent of cases now ultimately turn, at least in part, on determinations of transformative use.14See Jiarui Liu, An Empirical Study of Transformative Use in Copyright Law, 22 Stan. Tech. L. Rev. 163, 174–75 (2019).

Thus, with Toward a Fair Use Standard, Leval achieved what most authors of law review articles can only dream of. Of course, his deserved reputation as a thoughtful jurist no doubt assisted in propelling his proposal, and his article’s placement in the venerable Harvard Law Review did not hurt either. But, above all, his prescient thoughts on the limitations on copyright protection embodied in the fair use doctrine made eminent sense in any era when courts were just beginning to grapple with the digital implications of a Copyright Act written before the advent of the modern internet.

To be sure, Leval’s work is not without its critics—in industry, on the bench, and in the bar. These interventions have largely questioned the primacy that Leval’s article and interpreting courts have given to transformative use.15See supra note 13. Yet for all of its merit, Leval’s article wholly ignored one area of grave importance in both the utilitarian logic of copyright law and, implicitly, the extant jurisprudence on fair use: attribution. Crediting serves as a prime motivator for authorial production, goes to fundamental issues of equity in our copyright regime, and has enjoyed a tacit (but not entirely express) role within the fair use calculus. Nevertheless, it finds no place in Leval’s article, a fact that Leval’s critics have ignored as well. Indeed, even though Leval dedicated a portion of his article to pondering (and rejecting) the value of “other” fair use factors not expressly detailed in section 107’s text—including good faith, artistic integrity, and privacy—he never expressly discusses or even implicitly addresses the issue of crediting.16Leval dubbed these “false factors” and waived them aside. Leval, supra note 1, at 1125–30 (noting, inter alia, that “[t]he language of the Act suggests that there may be additional unnamed factors bearing on the question of fair use. The more I have studied the question, the more I have come to conclude that the pertinent factors are those named in the statute. Additional considerations that I and others have looked to are false factors that divert the inquiry from the goals of copyright”). In short, attribution appears to play no role in Leval’s analysis of fair use.

Of course, crediting was not Leval’s focus. Nevertheless, this Article attempts to address and assesses this oversight, particularly when read in light of the current law of crediting in the twenty years since the Supreme Court announced its decision in Dastar Corp. v. Twentieth Century Fox Film Corp.,17Dastar Corp. v. Twentieth Century Fox Film Corp., 539 U.S. 23 (2003). which permanently foreclosed the most common method by which creatives had previously vindicated their crediting interests—the Lanham Act’s prohibition on false designations of origin. Specifically, this Article proposes to supplement Leval’s work—which lead to the formal adoption of transformative use as a critical part of the first factor in the fair use analysis—by advancing a proposal for the explicit introduction of attributive use18Special thanks are due to Peter Afrasiabi for suggesting this terminology for the concept. to the fair use balancing test.

B.  Giving Credit: Toward an Attributive Fair Use Standard

Give credit where credit is due. It is a principle widely embraced in our social norms.19Rebecca Tushnet, Naming Rights: Attribution and Law, 2007 Utah L. Rev. 789, 791 (“Both authors and audiences generally accept that attribution is important to authors, and that false attribution, especially plagiarism, is a moral wrong.”). But like many of the things we learned in kindergarten, adherence to the precept is far from perfect. Moreover, while the exhortation remains a universal aspiration, it enjoys little legal bite. Indeed, the lack of development in the law of crediting is nothing short of surprising. As Jane Ginsburg has argued, “Of all the many counter-intuitive features of US copyright law—and they abound—the lack of an attribution right may present the greatest gap between perceived justice and reality.”20Jane C. Ginsburg, The Most Moral of Rights: The Right to Be Recognized as the Author of One’s Work, 8 Geo. Mason J. Int’l Com. L. 44, 45 (2016).

If the Copyright Act and our broader intellectual property regime seeks to serve its constitutionally mandated purpose—to promote progress in the arts—by incentivizing the creation of works of authorship, it should ideally respond to what actually motivates creators. To be sure, the exclusive rights of reproduction, distribution, public performance, public display, and derivatization secured for authors under section 106 of the Copyright Act appeal to authorial incentives in at least two ways. First, they serve utilitarian interests by providing monetary rewards to creators by necessitating licenses for the exploitation of their work. Second, they promote natural law and the dignitary interests of authors by enabling them to decide whether (and under what terms) their works are made available to the public at all.2117 U.S.C. § 106; see also John Tehranian, Parchment, Pixels, and Personsood: User Rights and the IP (Identity Politics) of IP (Intellectual Property), 82 U. Colo. L. Rev. 1, 38–39 (2011). But control over reproduction, distribution, public performance, public display, and derivatization are not the only rights that galvanize creators. Specifically, authors gain value—both monetary and otherwise—through other mechanisms. For example, building one’s brand and reputation for creative excellence—achieved only through attribution—is a powerful means toward earning long-term economic rewards and satisfying the dignitary interests that can also motivate authors. As a result, traditional copyright enforcement is not necessarily profit maximizing for creators, and there is often a disconnect between how creators feel about the unauthorized exploitation of their work and how distributors/publishers might feel about it. Meanwhile, authors who may value attribution over enforcement of their copyrights are not necessarily immune to the temptations of the marketplace or more noble than the rest of us. To be sure, some authors may create solely to fulfill their own needs or to edify, amuse, or impact others, and they may merely seek recognition rather than profit. But there is also a monetary component to proper attribution. In the long run, attribution promotes one’s name and its standing, a phenomenon that eggs on economic demand in a variety of forms—whether it is for further creative production, appearances, endorsements, or ancillary activities. Indeed, attribution is part and parcel of the economic equation of copyright and its incentive structure.

With all of this in mind, if our intellectual property regime serves to encourage progress in the arts by motivating and incentivizing authors, the absence of attribution rights would appear to leave the regime wanting. The Lanham Act, which for a time served as a powerful vehicle for protecting attribution rights, can no longer do so as a result of the Supreme Court’s decision in Dastar two decades ago. Meanwhile, for a variety of reasons we shall explore, alternative legal theories for protection have proven inadequate to provide for general crediting rights. Thus, current law provides little protection for crediting. And it is this crediting gap—what it means, how it came into existence, and how it might be solved—that is the focus of this Article.

Before proceeding further, two important caveats bear mentioning. As a preliminary manner, it is important to lay out what this Article means when it talks about giving credit. Put in the traditional parlance of moral rights, crediting issues can take two general forms. First, there is the positive right of attribution—the ability to have one’s name associated with one’s work. Second, there is the negative right of attribution—the ability to prevent having the work of another falsely attributed to you.22For example, as Jane Ginsburg notes, the right against misattribution opens the slippery slope toward protection of an integrity right. See Ginsburg, supra note 20, at 47–48. Gilliam v. American Broadcasting Cos.—the celebrated Monty Python moral rights case—provides a paradigmatic example of an instance where a court’s recognition of a Lanham Act claim under section 43(a) for (mis)attribution effectively created a backdoor integrity right. Gilliam v. Am. Broad. Cos., 538 F.2d 14 (2d Cir. 1976). In the case, Monty Python’s successful claim for false designation of origin against American Broadcasting Company (“ABC”) for airing bowdlerized episodes of Monty Pynchon’s Flying Circus amounted to an interdiction on unauthorized alterations to their work (which, in the case, had resulted from ABC’s efforts to edit episodes both for length (to both comply with the different length of commercials on American, versus British, television) and content (to guard against perceived sensitivities of American audiences and advertisers)). Id. Notably, however, Gilliam’s holding appears to survive Dastar since it was a passing off, rather than reverse passing off, claim. See Rick Mortensen, D.I.Y. After Dastar: Protecting Creators’ Moral Rights Through Creative Lawyering, Individual Contracts and Collectively Bargained Agreements, 8 Vand. J. Ent. & Tech. L. 335, 353 (2006) (concluding that “a mutilation case with facts similar to Gilliam could still be brought under section 43(a)(1)(B) or under the ‘palming off’ provisions of section 43(a)(1)(A), even though Gilliam itself was brought under a more liberal definition of ‘origin’ ”). The former right is about giving credit when credit is due and forms the subject matter of this Article. The latter phenomenon, while important and rife for further analysis, is about misattribution and therefore falls outside of the scope of this analysis.

In addition, as its title suggests, this Article seeks to directly build on Pierre Leval’s influential article. Indeed, it is no less ambitious than Leval’s piece and aims to highlight the fact that considerations of attributive use already permeate (with good reason) the jurisprudence applying and interpreting section 107 of the Copyright Act and seeks to alter the way that courts formally frame the fair use calculus going forward. At the same time, however, the author also understands that he is no Pierre Leval and, as detailed infra,23See infra notes 33–36 and accompanying text. is prone to delusions.

With these caveats in mind, the Article’s analysis begins by scrutinizing the value of crediting. Rather than resting on the mere intuition that attribution matters, Part I delves into both the quantitative and qualitative literature on crediting to determine just how and to what extent crediting fuels authorial motivations and serves broader societal interests. We start with an anecdote to illustrate how authorial reactions to infringement both with and without attribution can differ radically. In the process, we identify and critique the peculiar disconnect between our current legal regime—which fetishizes protection against infringement over failure of attribution—and the economic and dignitary interests of at least a sizeable percentage of creators. Next, we examine the burgeoning scholarship in law, economics, psychology, and organizational behavior to assess and interrogate the value of attribution to creators. As we see, a growing body of empirical work supports the intuition that crediting matters—a lot—and, in fact, authors are often willing to forgo substantial amounts of compensation in return for securing attribution. As such, crediting can and does play a primary role in motivating authorial production. At the same time, a fulsome attribution regime would not merely serve authorial interests. As I argue, it would also inure to the benefit of consumers, investors, and society at large by promoting the efficiency of resource allocation in intellectual property-driven fields (thereby benefiting investor welfare and broader economic interests in optimized markets operating with superior information), reducing consumer search costs, advancing the organizational integrity and coherence of literary and artistic endeavors, and even enhancing public support for the protection of intangible rights such as copyright by bringing the legal regime governing creative works in greater harmony with norms of equity and by humanizing creativity-driven products.

Having established the value of crediting to both authors and the public, this Article turn its attention to assessing the current state of attribution law. Part II therefore begins by exploring the rationale and implications of the Dastar holding and detailing the ways in which the decision effectively ended the ability of creators to bring attribution-related reverse passing off claims under the Lanham Act. Next, we identify the crediting gap left in Dastar’s wake by examining what alternative theories of liability remain to vindicate crediting interests post-Dastar and how said theories have fared in the intervening two decades. In the process, we scrutinize the extant jurisprudence on false advertising claims under the Lanham Act,24See 15 U.S.C. § 1125(a)(1)(B). attribution claims under the Visual Artists Rights Act (“VARA”),25See 17 U.S.C. § 106A. falsification and removal/alteration of Copyright Management Information (“CMI”) claims,26See id. § 1202. state unfair competition law, and private contracting. As this Article’s analysis suggests, these theories are insufficient to protect the crediting rights of the vast majority of creators. False advertising claims can, at best, only provide relief to famous authors and only in circumstances of material reliance by consumers in purchasing decisions. VARA claims suffer from myriad subject matter constraints that makes the protections available to only a small corner of the creative universe (certain types of visual art works that are not works made for hire, only in originals or prints of two hundred or less, potentially only in digital form). Claims pertaining to falsification, removal, or alteration of CMI have a high double-scienter requirement that has made relief unlikely. Meanwhile, the statutory scheme regarding CMI primarily serves the goal of infringement prevention rather than the protection of any independent interests that authors may have in crediting. Finally, state unfair competition laws have suffered either from federal preemption under Dastar or from the fact that they are viewed as coterminus with Lanham Act protections.

In the end, therefore, we are left only with private contracting for relief. And while a few notable industries (such as Hollywood and academia) have implemented meaningful attribution regimes, private ordering suffers from the leverage and bargaining disparities inherent to contractual solutions. Indeed, as we demonstrate, the history of private crediting systems is riddled with instances where power dynamics trump actual origination.27See infra Section II.B.5. Drawing on several notable examples where crediting abuses fell on racial, gender-based, and socioeconomic fault lines, I argue that continued reliance on such systems could have particularly deleterious implications for social justice issues in intellectual property. In short, therefore, there exists a sizeable crediting gap—a vast disconnect between the high value of attribution to authors and the public and the low value given to it by way of legal protection. Moreover, without the legal vesting of more stout attribution entitlements, ongoing reliance on the pure operation of the marketplace for crediting determinations could continue to have vexing consequences.

Part III considers potential reform to the current state of affairs. Although I caution that social value should not always translate into legal mandate and that good norms do not always make good law, the particular inadequacies of the extant crediting regime and the social and economic (rather than private or familial) interests at play warrant examination of potential legal solutions. To that end, I evaluate but reject two of the most significant mechanisms for change: reversal of the Dastar holding by legislation amending the Lanham Act and passage of an affirmative cause of action under the Copyright Act to provide for crediting rights. As I argue, despite its shortcomings, Dastar revealed the poor fit that the Lanham Act—with its focus on consumer confusion—ultimately provided for attribution protection. Moreover, even if an amendment to the Lanham Act were limited to situations involving works still under copyright protection (so as to avoid the issue of erstwhile rightsholders with expired copyrights attempting to extend their monopoly over creative works through trademark law), it would still raise significant concerns about the potentially onerous scope of crediting requirements and the fine line between providing proper attribution and triggering false endorsement claims. Meanwhile, amendment of the Copyright Act to provide for an affirmative crediting claim has its own shortcomings. In particular, this Article examines the way in which the allocation of a formal crediting entitlement could stifle licensing efforts in the marketplace, a result exacerbated by the combined impact of the endowment and creative effects—behavioral phenomena that have caused economists to question traditional neoclassical assumptions in entitlement allocations in recent years. Finally, as a practical matter, I also observe the particular difficulties in pursuing a legislative change.

Instead, I propose a more modest solution, and one that I argue is already an implicit part of the existing jurisprudence: formal accounting of attributive use as a part of fair use calculus. In conducting a careful exegesis of the extant case law on fair use, I argue that courts have often woven consideration of attributive use into the first, fourth, and “fifth” factors—a move that the important Second and Ninth Circuits have blessed.28See infra Sections III.D.1–4. Further, I argue that the implementation of an attributive use subfactor makes doctrinal sense given both the utilitarian and equitable functions of the fair use doctrine and that such a consideration is strongly supported by our existing copyright clearance norms. Thus, just as Pierre Leval identified transformative use as a critical but underappreciated consideration in the fair use calculus, I make a similar argument with respect to attributive use. In the process, I call for crediting to take its place alongside commercial and transformative considerations in courts’ assessment of the first fair use factor—the purpose and character of use. In this way, I advance an incremental, but important, step toward recognition of the value of crediting while also avoiding some of the broader concerns that a general right of attribution—whether achieved under the Lanham Act or the Copyright Act—might present.

I.  WHY CREDITING MATTERS

A.  One Author, Two Moments

I begin my assessment of the importance of attribution by reflecting upon the perspective of one author—this author—on what motivates creative enterprise. Such a focus is admittedly biased and may be completely unrepresentative. But it illustrates how the current state of affairs in copyright law—where infringement receives stiff punishment but failure to credit receives none—can be inadequate to protect the motivating interests of at least some creatives. Specifically, two recent incidents involving the use of my published work provoked strong, but diametrically opposing, reactions within me. And while I do not claim that my attitude toward these events reflects on how typical authors might respond, my contemplations are nonetheless instructive as to how some authors might experience issues related to infringement and crediting.

Not long ago, while doing some research on the dirty underbelly of the piratical dark web, I came across a site that resembled a veritable Library of Babel,29Jorge Luis Borges, The Library of Babel, in Collected Fictions 112, 112–18 (Andrew Hurley trans., Viking Penguin 1998). providing free access to a remarkable collection of digital books to all comers. While publishers would not hesitate to characterize this “celestial jukebox”30Paul Goldstein, Copyright’s Highway: From Gutenberg to the Celestial Jukebox 28 (Stan. U. Press 2003) (1994) (promoting Goldstein’s concept of the “celestial jukebox,” where digital technologies will enable the efficient and seamless distribution of all manner of entertainment products and informational works to consumers around the world with the touch of a button); Paul Goldstein, Copyright in the New Information Age, 40 Cath. U. L. Rev. 829, 829–30 (1991) (referring, for the first time, to Goldstein’s prescient concept of the “celestial jukebox,” borrowed from an unknown poet, where, “[s]ooner than you expect, systems may evolve that can store a digital version of every motion picture and sound recording ever created, enabling individuals around the world to summon up these works on command, through satellite or some yet unforeseen communications vehicle”); see also Comm. on the Judiciary, Digital Performance Right in Sound Recordings Act of 1995, H.R. Rep. No. 104-274 at 5–9, 12–13 (1st Sess. 1995) (referencing the concept of the “celestial jukebox” whereby “interactive services . . . enable a member of the public to receive, on request, a digital transmission of the particular recording that [that] person wants to hear”). of books as a cesspool of wanton infringement, I felt compelled, as a good academic, to investigate further before drawing any definitive conclusions. So, in an act of curiosity and thorough vanity, I punched my own name into the site’s search box. To my surprise, a beautiful e-book edition of one of my tomes popped up, available freely to all who had interest in it. I can neither confirm nor deny that I immediately downloaded a copy, but some context might help explain why I may have made a decision to do so.

A number of years earlier, I had posed what I thought was an innocent request of the publisher of one of my forthcoming books: I sought a final PDF copy of the work for my records and personal use. The response was rapid and reproachful. “We don’t do that, John.” The implication was clear: they had to protect against piracy, even if it meant denying authors copies of their book in digital format. Instead, they offered me a compromise: the first three chapters. Since they made it clear this was not a negotiation, I took what they gave me. Fast forward a decade and it should be easy to understand why I may have been elated when this website offered me what my own publisher had denied me: a final, electronic form of my book without any encryption or digital rights management (“DRM”) associated with it.

My book’s appearance on the website also pleased me for an entirely different and more fundamental reason. As a delusional academic, I dream of my ideas getting attention, impacting the way people might approach or think about an issue and, ultimately, influencing policy. So I naturally fantasized about individuals (at least one or two!) potentially stumbling on this website, finding my book, and then reading it when they otherwise may have never known about my work or ponied up the cash necessary to buy it. The royalties I see from my writing are trivial and economically irrelevant. Instead, I want my books to reach as many people as possible (that is, more than my mother) and I want to maximize their exposure. Whether that is accomplished through sales or piracy, I care not. After all, as science fiction writer and librarian Eric Flint once put it, “The real enemy of authors— especially midlist writers—is not piracy . . . It’s obscurity.”31Mike Glyer, Eric Flint (1947-2022), File 770 (July 17, 2022), https://file770.com/eric-flint-1947-2022 [https://perma.cc/V6RR-BWSU] (quoting Eric Flint).

So far from making me angry, the discovery of my book pirated online for anyone to read resulted in nothing but sheer delight. Yes, this was infringement of my copyright, pure and simple. But I was all smiles.

Around the same time, I had another experience related to one of my publications—but, this time, what occurred was far less welcome. One day, I received an email from a local law school about an upcoming distinguished lecture. While I might usually give only fleeting attention to such a notification, this one caught my eye because of the topic, which just so happened to be the exact subject matter of my first book, which I wrote in 2008. So I naturally took an interest and thought about attending. But as I read further, my curiosity turned to disappointment. The talk was about a recently released book whose description was, almost word for word, based on the book I had written. And then I saw the name of the author, which was one I recognized.

I had met the author a decade ago when she was a graduate student attending a talk I had given about my own book. I distinctly remember her chatting with me after my lecture and expressing how much she had enjoyed and appreciated my book. It turns out those comments weren’t mere puffery. She had proven that by writing her own version. As I read the full description of her lecture and then found her recently released book, I was struck by how the summation literally encapsulated my own book in its entirety.

Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, I told myself in a failed attempt to downplay the anger I felt. But more than flattery, I wanted acknowledgement. Of course, no one’s work is wholly original. But her book came uncomfortably close to mimicry of mine. It was not just drawing on or borrowing ideas to build and expand on my book; it was literally taking my entire work and rehashing it as purportedly original material. Specifically, and most egregiously of all, the use of my work was wholly without proper credit. And, to add insult to injury, as the email before me indicated, she was now giving a distinguished lecture at a local university that had never shown the least bit of interest in my work.

Even if I were inclined to pursue some kind of legal remedy against her, there was none readily forthcoming. Because of the nature of the use, an infringement claim would be difficult to make. Meanwhile, current law provides no general right of crediting or attribution. Admittedly, I did have a form of extralegal relief; if I wanted to pursue the matter, university policies against plagiarism and the failure to properly credit sources offered some remedies. Certainly, I could have notified the author’s publisher and her university-employer to trigger potential investigations. But, at the end of the day, such an effort would be purely punitive and would not undo the real damage I had already suffered; the book, after all, was already published. So, in the end, I concluded that, instead of going through the pain of a vindictive letter-writing campaign that would only waste my own time, I would work out my issues far more constructively: by writing a law review article.

These two incidents—close in time—provided a remarkable study in contrasts.32Besides illuminating the inadequacies of our present authorial regime, these two incidents also reveal that this Article’s author may be prone to exhibiting disturbing signs of both pettiness and delusionality. I implore you to excuse these character flaws (often attributed to “artistic” mentalities) and consider the arguments presented in this Article on their merits and without the weight of the author’s considerable baggage. In the first matter, I encountered the wholesale piracy of my work, and I found myself not merely indifferent but hopeful. After all, I had received credit for my work and the work’s unauthorized distribution helped disseminate my ideas more broadly. I would take whatever boost I could get. The website in question had undoubtedly infringed my work, but I was perfectly content to let that happen. In the second instance, while it was arguable whether the subsequent author had infringed my work, she had indisputably failed to give me proper credit for my work—upon which she had indisputably and heavily drawn—and had, in my view, violated basic norms of attribution. I was disturbed and troubled by what had happened.

While I found the second incident far more offensive than the first, the law saw things differently. I possessed a colorable claim for infringement if I were inclined to fight the piracy of my book. By contrast, I had little hope of a legal remedy for my fellow academic’s abysmal failure to provide me appropriate attribution. In short, our copyright regime provided no shortage of remedies for an injury that I cared little about—infringement. By sharp contrast, it provided no remedy for something that more directly motivates my production of content—crediting and recognition.

As a result of these two incidents, I began to wonder whether I was the kind of author the Copyright Act wanted to encourage in the first place.33While entirely possible, for purposes of sanity and the preservation of self-worth, I shall ignore this prospect. As a writer, I meet the definition of what the Framers referred to as “authors” in the Intellectual Property Clause of the Constitution, and my work comes under the subject matter of the Copyright Act. But I am also not the kind of author who makes a living (or even seeks to make a living) on the sale of my works. Consequently, my incentives might be quite different from someone whose income solely or largely comes from authoring works—the kind of author who might care substantially more about piracy.

That said, however, the vast majority of authors make little to no money from their work. Some, of course, may still pursue the craft for (in part) future potential riches. But, for many, remuneration is far lower on the list of their motivations than other factors, such as attribution and recognition. As Laura Heymann points out,

[F]or many creators, particularly individual creators, the profit motivation is not paramount. Rather, the creator is motivated most by the public knowledge that she is the creator—by attribution of the work to her. Indeed, as others have noted, such creators value wide dissemination of their work over compensation, and so benefit from the fair use doctrine and, even, the movement of their work to the public domain, both of which ensure that their work reaches as large an audience as possible.34Laura A. Heymann, The Trademark/Copyright Divide, 60 SMU L. Rev. 55, 95 (2007).

As my reaction to the two incidents indicates, I belonged to this class of authors. And, by failing to reflect the importance of attribution and recognition as a motivating factor in the production of creative content, it appeared that the existing copyright regime did not know members of this class very well and did not appear fully responsive to their incentives and needs. For a utilitarian regime dedicated to progress in the arts, this curious result begs further investigation.

B.  The Empirics of Attribution

There is no doubt that our moral sensibilities strongly support the practice of proper attribution, and common sense tells us that authors value crediting and recognition as well. As Heymann has posited, “[I]t seems safe to conclude that the two things that virtually all creators desire is to receive credit when appropriate and to eliminate the suggestion of association when it is not.”35Id. at 96. But before taking these assumptions to heart based on mere intuition, it is worth scrutinizing them more closely. While the value of attribution has traditionally received scant attention in the academic literature and little empirical testing, all of that has changed in recent years as an emerging body of data and experimental work has provided overwhelming support for the notion that attribution serves a vital role in motivating and incentivizing creatives.36See Christopher Jon Sprigman, Christopher Buccafusco & Zachary Burns, What’s a Name Worth?: Experimental Tests of the Value of Attribution in Intellectual Property, 93 B.U. L. Rev. 1389, 1391 n.1 (2013) (detailing the studies in recent years establishing the general sense of attribution’s value to creatives).

One of the largest innovations and behavioral experiments to ever take place in the creative world occurred with the launch of the Creative Commons some twenty years ago. Founded by law professor Larry Lessig, computer scientist Hal Abelson, and literary advocate Eric Eldred, the Creative Commons sought to give creators the ability to opt out of the protection-heavy default rules of copyright, which automatically vest in authors3717 U.S.C. § 201(a) (vesting, as a default rule, copyright in the author of a work). the exclusive right to control reproduction, distribution, public display, public performance, and derivatization of their works38Id. § 106 (detailing the exclusive rights enjoyed by copyright holders). for a period of their lifetime plus seventy years after their death.39Id. § 302(a) (granting a term of protection of lifetime of an author plus seventy years to any work created by an individual and not as a work made for hire). Such rights spring into existence for all original works of authorship fixed in a tangible medium, regardless of formalities. In subverting these default protections and the “permission culture”40See, e.g., Lawrence Lessig, Free Culture: The Nature and Future of Creativity 8 (2004) (using the term “permission culture” to refer to the way in which heavy enforcement of intellectual property rights has impaired the ability of the public to create and share culture). that they serve and support, Creative Commons allowed authors to make their works available to the public to promote educational access and spur further creativity by increasing the pool of works from which others can freely build without the need for costly licenses. By ceding their works to the Creative Commons, creators opt into a different regime, where all rights are not reserved. Thus, under various Creative Commons licenses, they can make work available for use without payment for noncommercial purposes—to create new derivative works or for any purpose whatsoever.

The notable success of the Creative Commons and the particular manner in which it has operated illustrates two important points. First, millions of creators have deeded hundreds of millions of creative works to the Creative Commons.41See Eric E. Johnson, The Economics and Sociality of Sharing Intellectual Property Rights, 94 B.U. L. Rev. 1935, 1980 (2014) (noting the existence of 172 million pages with Creative Commons licenses by fall 2008). As Eric E. Johnson has put it, this fact illustrates “the contemporary existence of an attitude held by at least a significant number of people that the full panoply of copyright entitlements is not important to them.”42Id. at 1980–81. As Jessica Silbey also notes, “To cultivate reputation, interviewees describe widely and freely sharing their work despite IP protection that controls access to maximize rent. IP’s blunt protections disserve the multifaceted and contextually specific nature of reputational interests.” Jessica Silbey, The Eureka Myth: Creators, Innovators, and Everyday Intellectual Property 151 (2015). Second, while many, but not all, authors want to stop infringement of their works, virtually all authors want attribution and the operation of the Creative Commons provides empirical support for this view. As the data collected over the past twenty years show, authors putting their work on the Creative Commons almost always choose to condition any use on one requirement: proper attribution.43See Anupam Chander & Madhavi Sunder, The Romance of the Public Domain, 92 Calif. L. Rev. 1331, 1361 (2004) (finding that 2% of Creative Commons dedications do not require proper attribution as a condition of use); Glenn Otis Brown, Announcing (and Explaining) Our New 2.0 Licenses, Creative Commons (May 25, 2004), http://creativecommons.org/weblog/entry/4216 [https://
perma.cc/E39L-WKRM] (noting that 97–98% of Creative Commons contributors chose to preserve their right to attribution). More recent data on Creative Commons licenses suggests that these numbers have remained relatively consistent over time. A 2014 report found that, while 76% of Creative Commons contributors allow uncompensated adaptations of their work and 58% allow commercial use of their works, just 4% waive attribution. See State of the Commons, Creative Commons (2014), https://
web.archive.org/web/20151104081140/https://stateof.creativecommons.org/report [https://perma.cc/
7QLK-K3M8]. Thus, while all Creative Commons licenses allow some kind of uses that might otherwise be infringing, 96% condition any use on attribution. See id.
For at least a certain set of creators, therefore, the right of attribution trumps the right of exploitation and the ability to receive license fees from the use of one’s works.

Even aside from the Creative Commons, the widespread sharing, rather than exclusive reservation, of intellectual property rights in many sectors illustrates the strong incentive social validation can play in promoting creative enterprise. Though long underappreciated in the intellectual property literature,44See Johnson, supra note 41, at 1937 (“Sharing is ubiquitous in our world, yet it is something of a wallflower in the scholarly literature.”). this widespread “non-market form of exchange,” characterized by sharing, is particularly attractive for an enormous body of works that may not enjoy clear-cut commercial profitability but are also not entirely valueless.45See id. at 1937–39. In these sharing regimes, such as open-source software licensing pools and microstock photography collections, pecuniary gain is largely forgone but, quite notably, attribution is retained and reputational satisfaction constitutes a key part of the value proposition for creators, as they derive “a feeling of satisfaction and a sense of social connectedness out of sharing.”46Id. at 1938; see also Greg Lastowka, Digital Attribution: Copyright and the Right to Credit, 87 B.U. L. Rev. 41, 59 (2007) (arguing that “prestige, not money drives open-source production” and that “standard Free and Open-Source Software (F/OSS) licenses are characterized by a trade of standard copyright protections for authorial attribution”).

The thriving of the “sharing” economy and of the Creative Commons—where millions of creators are eager to opt out of the default protections of the Copyright Act, but only as long as they continue to receive recognition for their creative efforts—should come as no surprise. Indeed, recent experimental work has validated the intuition and experience that suggests that creators place significant weight on crediting and recognition. Notably, researchers Christopher Sprigman, Christopher Buccafusco, and Zachary Burns have conducted a series of empirical tests in mimic conditions of real-world bargaining meant to put a tangible monetary value on attribution rights. In the first experiment, they found that 180 casual photographers were, in the aggregate, willing to receive far less payment for publication of their work when it came with, rather than without, attribution.47Sprigman et al., supra note 36, at 1408–11. Indeed, subjects were willing to drop their payment demand by some 35% (from $202.26 to $132.28), on average, when attribution was provided. See id. These findings were even more pronounced in their second experiment, which involved professional and advanced amateur photographers.48See id. at 1415 (finding that “professional and advanced amateur photographers value attribution far more than do . . . casual snapshooters”). In short, these tests produced robust results, leading Sprigman, Buccafusco, and Burns to conclude that, on average, creators actually value attribution and the receipt of recognition for their work more than getting paid and that they are “willing to sacrifice financial benefits to obtain [attribution].”49Id. at 1417.

Beyond the valuable case study provided by Creative Commons and the experimental evidence that has quantitatively established the worth of crediting to authors, important qualitative ethnographic and observational work has also supported the stock that creators put in attribution. For example, in her comprehensive qualitative study of innovation, in which she conducted dozens of interviews with creatives and intellectual property professionals across a wide variety of industries,50Silbey’s ethnographic study is based on “fifty face-to-face interviews that [she] conducted with a wide range of scientists, engineers, musicians and artists, their business associates, and intellectual property lawyers over the course of four years. . . . [as] part of an effort to learn more about the intersection of intellectual property law on the one hand, and creative and innovative work on the other.” Silbey, supra note 42, at 4. Jessica Silbey concluded that attribution serves as a primary motivator for creative enterprise.51See id. at 149, 166–69 (2015) (detailing, among other things, how her interviewees would commonly refer to their creative or innovative output in familial terms (as offspring), as priceless, or as a key part of their identity).  As she notes, “[T]he interviews are replete with expressions of how attribution and integrity are crucial to the work’s optimal promotion and dissemination, whether or not for profit, because they safeguard and manage the development of professional identity and audience.”52Id. at 166. Similarly, in her sweeping survey on the legal and normative standards of attribution across a wide range of industries—including Hollywood, journalism, political speechwriting, software, advertising, graphic design, science, and medicine—Catherine Fisk has also documented the significant value creators place on crediting.53Catherine L. Fisk, Credit Where It’s Due: The Law and Norms of Attribution, 95 Geo. L.J. 49 (2006). As she puts it, “Attribution is foundational to the modern economy” and, as such, “greater legal recognition of attribution rights is desirable.”54Id at 50, 52. 

       Finally, recent literature in the field of organizational behavior55See Stephanie Plamondon Bair, Rational Faith: The Utility of Fairness in Copyright, 97 B.U. L. Rev. 1487, 1519 (2017). and psychology56See Onne Janssen, Job Demands, Perceptions of Effort-Reward Fairness and Innovative Work Behaviour, 73 J. Occupational & Organizational Psych. 287, 295 (2000). has emphasized the crucial role of crediting in nurturing innovation and promoting perceptions of fairness in creative environments. For example, Teresa Amabile, a leading theorist on creativity and innovation, has highlighted how proper credit allocation can motivate employees to work harder and enhance productivity.57Teresa Amabile & Steven Kramer, The Progress Principle: Using Small Wins to Ignite Joy, Engagement, and Creativity at Work 245 (2011). In short, a burgeoning body of work in the social sciences has strongly supported the intuition that crediting matters—a lot. 

C. The Societal Value of Attribution

But in focusing largely on the impact of attribution on creatives—both in the way that crediting incentivizes innovation and how it serves the dignitary interests of authors—this emerging literature has actually understated the case of attribution rights. Quite critically, attribution does not merely serve authorial interests. Rather, it also benefits other players in the marketplace for creative works and advances broader societal interests.58For example, in her taxonomy of attribution, Fisk identifies four functions served by crediting: (1) a non-monetary incentive to spur further creativity; (2) a mechanism by which to lay blame for failure; (3) a branding purpose that facilitates consumption decisions; and (4) a humanizing function for creative output. See Fisk, supra note 53. Three of these four functions—discipline, branding, and humanization—focus on the value that attribution provides to nonauthors.

First, crediting advances the efficacy of the marketplace, particularly in an information economy dominated by the production of intellectual property. Generally speaking, free and open exchange of relevant information facilitates the optimal functioning of markets by improving the efficiency of allocation decisions. Information about inputs, such as labor, guides the dedication of scarce resources. Crediting provides actionable data about labor involved in the production of intellectual property—data that are often onerous to divine elsewhere or without substantial additional cost. Indeed, “because it is difficult to measure worker knowledge directly in the way that the ability of the typists and machinists of the industrial economy could be tested simply by watching them perform a task,”59Id. at 50. credit is particularly valuable in an information economy. A reliable, accurate, and comprehensive crediting regime can therefore dramatically advance interests in the efficient allocation of resources in creative enterprises. Crediting, after all, provides vital information to financiers of those enterprises about the nature and quality of a particular author’s work.60To put it in reverse terms, crediting also promotes a “discipline” function—a mechanism by which to “allocate blame.” Id. at 61.

Secondly, crediting advances the interests of those who consume creative works and other forms of intellectual property. Authorship represents a form of branding akin to trademark, and accurate authorship labeling helps promote many of the basic goals of the trademark regime, which serves consumers (and not just authors) by “reduc[ing] the customer’s costs of shopping and making purchasing decisions” and “help[ing] assure a producer that it (and not an imitating competitor) will reap the financial, reputation-related rewards associated with a desirable product.”61Laura A. Heymann, The Birth of the Authornym: Authorship, Pseudonymity, and Trademark Law, 80 Notre Dame L. Rev. 1377, 1373 n.1 (2005) (quoting Qualitex Co. v. Jacobson Prods. Co., 514 U.S. 159, 163–64 (1995)). Heymann has highlighted the value that a meaningful crediting regime provides to even nonauthors. Instead of calling for an attribution right that recognizes an inherent moral right authors might have in proper attribution, she calls for what she dubs “authornymic” attribution, the recognition of crediting for the sake of “organizational integrity”—a “reader-centered” law that ensures that “reader responses [to creative works] will be informed and minimizes the likelihood of confusion a consumer of creative commodities might otherwise experience.”62Id. at 1446. In this way, she argues, a law of attribution is vital to supporting “efficient literary consumers” who can have “some confidence that the works that we read—and later draw on for our own creative activity—are situated within a coherent literary structure.”63Id. at 1448–49.

Thirdly, an attribution regime can also promote public respect for intellectual property law. It does so in at least two different ways. As Stephanie Plamondon Bair argues in her study of the role of fairness in copyright law, when we align copyright law more closely with public perceptions of equity, we heighten the regime’s legitimacy in the eyes of society.64See Plamondon Bair, supra note 55, at 1507 (“Given the widespread belief that fairness plays a role in intellectual property law, we may add efficiency to our system by openly acknowledging this role.”). Given the strong popular support for the norm of attribution, a copyright system that protects crediting rights bolsters respect for the regime itself. Separately, the act of putting a real face (or, at least name) behind creative works humanizes them and can help buttress support for the intellectual property rights that protect them. As Catherine Fisk explains, such a task is particularly important “[i]n a world of corporate production, and in particular skepticism about corporate production.”65Fisk, supra note 53, at 65. After all, it is no secret why corporate interest groups bring relatable artists to the forefront when making pitches for greater protection and rights enforcement, especially in the war on piracy—even when those artists are not the real rightsholders.66Some might criticize this practice as blatant masquerading, akin to massive agricultural conglomerates using family farmers to put a sympathetic face on their efforts to lobby Congress for agricultural subsidies. On the other hand, in some instances, the protections sought by entertainment companies can inure to the benefit of individual artists as well. When the music industry sought to apply pressure to Google to provide more favorable use fees for the exploitation of music on YouTube, it had the likes of Taylor Swift and U2 sign off to an open letter that was used to drum up public support for the cause and to lobby Congress for reform.67See Peter Kafka, The Music Industry Signs Up Taylor Swift and U2 in Its Fight Against YouTube, Vox (June 20, 2016, 5:45 AM), https://www.vox.com/2016/6/20/11974514/taylor-swift-youtube-dmca-music-letter [https://perma.cc/2HGK-FCKE]. The letter also sought to increase public awareness of the role of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (“DMCA”) (and, in particular, its safe harbor) in the current situation and to lay the foundation for congressional reform:

[The DMCA] was written and passed in an era that is technologically out-of-date compared to the era in which we live. It has allowed major tech companies to grow and generate huge profits by creating ease of use for consumers to carry out almost every recorded song in history in their pocket via a smartphone, while songwriters’ and artists’ earnings continue to diminish.

Anthony Ha, Taylor Swift and Other Big Names Join the Music Industry’s Campaign Against YouTube, TechCrunch (June 20, 2016, 2:33 PM), https://techcrunch.com/2016/06/20/taylor-swift-dmca-letter [https://perma.cc/JSU6-9NUG] (quoting the letter). And when the Motion Picture Association (“MPA”) sought an alternative to an unpopular litigation campaign against piracy, it put together testimonial advertisements that highlighted the ways in which piracy hurt those people whom we only know as lines at the end of the credit roll.68See Patrick Goldstein, Hollywood Deals with Piracy, A Wary Eye on CDs, L.A. Times
(Sept. 9, 2003, 12:00 AM), https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-2003-sep-09-et-gold9-story.html [https://perma.cc/6L3K-9GSR] (detailing the anti-piracy campaign by the MPA and noting the role of David Goldstein, a set painter, in the spots).
Thus, attribution promotes the very operation of the intellectual property regime by giving it a human face that legitimizes the sometimes impersonal and intangible rules it enforces. In an era where digital technology has made mass piracy on a global scale all too easy, this function is perhaps of greater value now than ever before.

All told, therefore, our common sense tells us that crediting is deeply important to authors, a position backed by the emerging social science literature on the subject. Meanwhile, a proper attribution regime also has critical benefits to the efficient functioning of the marketplace for creative works and thus has strong benefits for consumers and investors as well. Despite all of this, however, as we have alluded to, the law provides shockingly little protection for crediting rights. This state of affairs that has grown particularly dim in the past two decades in the wake of the Supreme Court’s decision in Dastar, a subject to which we now turn. 

II.  THE LAW’S SIZEABLE CREDITING GAP

A.  Dastar and the Decline of Crediting Law

Although we have established the important value of attribution—to creators, investors, and the public as a whole—we are left with a strange conundrum: the law of crediting is surprisingly thin and underdeveloped. Indeed, it is counterintuitively so, as the wholesale absence of any broad law of attribution runs counter to the assumptions of many in the creative community. As Silbey reported for her survey of artists and authors, “Many interviewees were stunned to learn that copyright law does not require attribution or prohibit misattribution.”69Silbey, supra note 46, at 146.

That said, for a period of time in the recent past, rightsholders enjoyed one particular means of crediting protection: a direct vehicle for legal redress when their creative works were being used by others without proper attribution. Specifically, a line of case law had emerged that considered improper crediting of someone else’s work as one’s own to constitute a “false designation of origin . . . or false or misleading representation” actionable under section 43(a) of the Lanham Act.7015 U.S.C. § 1125(a)(1). In these cases, courts found that, in the words of Thomas McCarthy, the Lanham Act “has progressed far beyond the old concept of fraudulent passing off, to encompass any form of competition or selling which contravenes society’s current concepts of ‘fairness.’ ”712 J. Thomas McCarthy, Trademarks and Unfair Competition § 25.1, at 170 (1973). Such a capacious reading of the Lanham Act allowed for recognition of a cause of action for reverse passing off—when someone passes off the goods or services of another as their own—and, therefore, provided a viable claim for their failure to provide credit.

In 1981, this reading of the Lanham Act received the blessing of the Ninth Circuit for the first time, a move that propelled it to widespread acceptance. In Smith v. Montoro, the Ninth Circuit held that the failure to credit an actor for his role in the movie Convoy Buddies (and, in fact, the substitution of his name with that of another actor in both the film credits and advertising material), constituted reverse passing off under section 43(a).72Smith v. Montoro, 648 F.2d 602, 606–07 (9th Cir. 1981). As a matter of public policy, the court opined, such conduct was “wrongful” in that “the originator of the misidentified product is involuntarily deprived of the advertising value of its name and of the goodwill that otherwise would stem from public knowledge of the true source of the satisfactory product.”73Id. at 607. The court recognized that was particularly the case in the film industry:

[B]ig box office names are built, in part, through being prominently featured in popular films and by receiving appropriate recognition in film credits and advertising. Since actors’ fees for pictures, and indeed, their ability to get any work at all, is often based on the drawing power their name may be expected to have at the box office, being accurately credited for films in which they have played would seem to be of critical importance in enabling actors to sell their “services,” i.e., their performances.

Id. The Montoro decision proved widely influential, and within a few short years, federal courts throughout the country were entertaining attribution-related claims under section 43(a) for reverse passing off.74See John T. Cross, Giving Credit Where Credit Is Due: Revisiting the Doctrine of Reverse Passing Off in Trademark Law, 72 Wash. L. Rev. 709, 717–20 (1997) (detailing the explosion of cases allowing reverse passing off claims under section 43(a) of the Lanham Act following the Ninth Circuit’s Montoro decision and the application of such claims to myriad artistic works, including musical compositions, sound recordings, books, scripts, and, quite bizarrely, dolls). But all of that changed in 2003 when the Supreme Court announced its decision in Dastar.75See generally Dastar Corp. v. Twentieth Century Fox Film Corp., 539 U.S. 23 (2003).

It was in the shadow of Montoro and its progeny that the Dastar controversy began. To commemorate the fiftieth anniversary of the ending of World War II, Dastar Corporation had decided to put out a new video set titled World War II Campaigns in Europe. The collection made extensive, but unauthorized, use of a television series based on President Dwight Eisenhower’s book, Crusade in Europe.76Specifically, Dastar took the original series, edited it down to “slightly more than half” its original length and then “substituted a new opening sequence, credit page, and final closing . . . ; inserted new chapter-title sequences and narrated chapter introductions; moved the ‘recap’ in the Crusade television series to the beginning and retitled it as a ‘preview’; and removed references to and images of the book.” Id. at 26–27. Twentieth Century Fox had owned the copyrights to this program until it had inadvertently forgotten to renew them and the show fell into the public domain.77Id. at 26. Released in 1949, the series had a twenty-eight year copyright term under the 1909 Copyright Act, meaning that failure to timely renew the work by 1977 would result in its ceding to the public domain. As a result, Fox could not sue Dastar for infringement of its Crusade in Europe television series to prevent publication and distribution of World War II Campaigns in Europe.78That said, Fox did try to claim that the Dastar video set violated the rights to the original Eisenhower book upon which the Crusade in Europe television series was based, which allegedly remained under copyright protection. See Twentieth Century Fox Film Corp. v. Ent. Distrib., 34 F. App’x 312, 314 (9th Cir. 2002); Dastar, 539 U.S. at 28 n.2. So, like many other entities who have lost their erstwhile rights in one of our intellectual property regimes, Fox turned to a neighboring intellectual property regime upon which to rest its claims.79See, e.g., TrafFix Devices, Inc. v. Mktg. Displays, Inc., 532 U.S. 23, 26–27 (2001) (drawing on trademark law to raise infringement claims against an imitator of a plaintiff’s dual spring mechanism for road signs when the plaintiff’s patent in said system had expired). It made a Lanham Act claim instead.

The procedural posture of the case was unusual and suggested something significant was afoot by the time it got to the Supreme Court. Both the district court and Ninth Circuit upheld the reverse passing off claim. Indeed, the Ninth Circuit thought so little of the issue’s weight overall significance that the decision was unpublished. The Supreme Court, of course, typically grants certiorari to only a tiny fraction of cases; so, it certainly raised eyebrows when the Supreme Court granted certiorari to a seemingly routine and mundane decision that the Ninth Circuit did not even bother to designate for publication.80See Dastar Corp. v. Twentieth Century Fox Film Corp., 537 U.S. 1099 (2003) (granting certiorari to unpublished Ninth Circuit decision in Twentieth Century Fox, 34 F. App’x 312). The action presaged the Court’s view that the unpublished decision from the Ninth Circuit missed something fundamental and significant, about which the Court appeared ready to opine.

In its decision, the Supreme Court unanimously reversed the Ninth Circuit and rejected Fox’s attempt to use a Lanham Act claim for false designation of origin as a means of preventing Dastar’s reproduction of an audiovisual work (to which Fox had previously owned the copyright) that had fallen into the public domain.81Dastar, 539 U.S. 23 at 38. In so holding, the Court warned against the risk of creating a “species of mutant” intellectual property protection that would impede the public’s right to make unfettered use of creative works that no longer enjoy copyright protection.82Id. at 34.

As the old saw goes, hard facts make bad law. Fox’s gambit to eschew the “limited times” requirement in copyright law by ginning up trademark claims against Dastar struck a nerve with the Court, and the case came before it at a particularly opportune time (as far as Dastar was concerned). As Justin Hughes points out, the close proximity of the Dastar decision to the holding in Eldred v. Ashcroft83See generally Eldred v. Ashcroft, 537 U.S. 186 (2003). suggests that that the former may have intentionally served as a “2003 Term counterweight” to the latter,84Justin Hughes, American Moral Rights and Fixing the Dastar “Gap,” 2007 Utah L. Rev. 659, 685. which rejected concerns about the public domain in declining to find a twenty-year extension of copyright terms unconstitutional.85Eldred, 537 U.S. at 208, 218. Indeed, concerns about aggrieved former rightsholders, like Fox, attempting to circumvent copyright’s careful calibrated balance between private protection and public access expressly animated the Dastar decision. Specifically, the Court sought to thwart future efforts by lapsed copyright holders to make disingenuous use of trademark law to assert monopolistic control over the exploitation of works that had fallen into the public domain, in contravention of the very intent of the copyright regime and its (constitutionally mandated) policy of allowing ownership over creative works to eventually expire so that the public may make free use of them.86Notably, the Dastar Court was not the first to recognize this problem. Decades earlier, Judge Learned Hand had flagged this issue. See Capitol Recs., Inc. v. Mercury Recs. Corp., 221 F.2d 657, 664–68 (2d Cir. 1955) (Hand, J., dissenting). In a prescient 1955 dissent in a suit between Capitol and Mercury Records, id., Hand cautioned against the use of unfair competition law to achieve copyright-like protection that would “grant to an author a perpetual monopoly” over works in a way that would circumvent their eventual and proper dedication to the public domain, id. at 666–67; see also Sinatra v. Goodyear Tire & Rubber Co., 435 F.2d 711, 718 (9th Cir. 1970) (noting Hand’s concern over “allow[ing] unfair competition protection where Congress has not given federal protection . . . in effect granting state copyright benefits without the federal limitations of time to permit definite public domain use”). Hand’s concern was not merely the injury to reasonable investment-backed expectations and commerce, but also the broadside such legal machinations represented to public access to creative works and the exercise of attendant First Amendment rights.

Thus, under Dastar, the Supreme Court found that reference to “origins of goods” in the Lanham Act could not be read to mean the authorial origins of a work; instead, it referred only to the physical source of the embodiment of that work in tangible products.87Dastar, 539 U.S. at 31–32. As the Court rationalized, the reference to “origin of goods” in section 43(a) was “incapable of connoting the person or entity that originated the ideas or communications that ‘goods’ embody or contain. Such an extension would not only stretch the text, but it would be out of accord with the history and purpose of the Lanham Act and inconsistent with precedent.”88Id. at 32. So, even if Dastar had failed to give proper credit to the intellectual source(s) of the materials contained in its video collection, this did not, and could not, constitute a violation under the Lanham Act. All that mattered for the purposes of the section 43(a) was that there was not false designation of the origin of the actual physical video collection. Since Dastar literally published and distributed the video collection, self-attribution was entirely proper as far as the Lanham Act was concerned. As such, Fox had no actionable claim for false designation of origin. 

At the same time, however, the Court’s holding reached broader than necessary to achieve the laudable goal of protecting the public domain. By grounding its ruling in a reading of the Lanham Act that definitively excluded the intellectual wellspring of a product from the meaning of “origin,” the Court precluded attribution claims under section 43(a) for all creative works. Thus, in the past two decades, courts have generally rejected all such claims, whether they apply to public domain works (as in Dastar) or works still under copyright protection (unlike Dastar).89See Jane C. Ginsburg, Moral Rights in the U.S.: Still in Need of a Guardian Ad Litem, 30 Cardozo Arts & Ent. L.J. 73, 81 (2012) [hereinafter Ginsburg, Moral Rights]; Jane C. Ginsburg, The Right to Claim Authorship in U.S. Copyright and Trademarks Law, 41 Hous. L. Rev. 263, 268 n.17 (2004) [hereinafter Ginsburg, Right to Claim Authorship] (“Federal district court decisions subsequent to Dastar have declined to limit that decision’s impact to copyright-expired works.”); Graeme W. Austin, The Berne Convention as a Canon of Construction: Moral Rights After Dastar, 61 N.Y.U. Ann. Surv. Am. L. 111, 113 (2005) (noting that, although “the Dastar Court seemed particularly solicitous of the public domain,” its interpreting progeny has “not, however, confined the ruling to public domain materials” and, in the process, has significantly diminished “[w]hatever protections to the right to claim authorship of one’s works that the Lanham Act formerly provided”). In the process, therefore, Dastar eliminated relief for those seeking remediation of a harm quite distinct from unlawful reproduction, distribution, display, or performance of a creative work: the act of not giving credit to its original author. In one fell swoop, “the Court swept away close to twenty-five years of precedent that held that failure to give credit to an entertainment product such as a film or song, or providing misleading credit, was a violation of trademark law.”90K.J. Greene, Trademark Law and Racial Subordination: From Marketing of Stereotypes to Norms of Authorship, 58 Syracuse L. Rev. 431, 442 (2008).

In part, two other concerns can explain and warrant broader application of the holding to all creative works, not just ones in the public domain. First, the Court noted the difficult position that an attribution-related reverse passing off claim could put manufacturers of products containing creative works. “On the one hand,” notes the Court, “they would face Lanham Act liability for failing to credit the creator of a work on which their lawful copies are based; and on the other hand they could face Lanham Act liability for crediting the creator if that should be regarded as implying the creator’s ‘sponsorship or approval’ of the copy.”91Dastar, 539 U.S. at 36 (citing 15 U.S.C. § 1125(a)(1)(A)). In other words, if Dastar had put out its video set and kept the original credits to Fox, Fox could have sued Dastar for violating the Lanham Act for direct passing off by suggesting that Fox sponsored or approved Dastar’s product. Meanwhile, because it had removed Fox’s name, Dastar now faced a claim for failure to attribute under a theory of reverse passing off. If the Court had affirmed the availability of an attribution-related passing off claims, the resulting quagmire could stifle the use of works—both those in the public domain (for which no licensing is required) and for those still under copyright protection (when lawful copyright clearance might leave a licensee subject to exposure for a Lanham Act violation). 

Second, the Court raised its concern that an attribution requirement could leave distributors of copyright content with a duty to credit that might grow impossibly burdensome and impractical. The opinion put a fine point on the scope of crediting that a broader reading of section 43(a)’s “designation of origin” reference would compel by assessing the type of attribution that might be required to distribute the film Carmen Jones. As the Court posited, to avoid liability for reversing passing off under Montoroand its progeny, a distributor might have to give attribution “not just to MGM, but to Oscar Hammerstein II (who wrote the musical on which the film was based), to Georges Bizet (who wrote the opera on which the musical was based), and to Prosper Mérimée (who wrote the novel on which the opera was based).”92Id. at 35. Determining origin could amount to a complicated task. To illustrate this point, the Court turned no further than the case at hand, opining that

[w]hile Fox might have a claim to being in the line of origin, its involvement with the creation of the television series was limited at best. Time, Inc., was the principal, if not the exclusive, creator, albeit under arrangement with Fox. And of course it was neither Fox nor Time, Inc., that shot the film used in the Crusade television series. Rather, that footage came from the United States Army, Navy, and Coast Guard, the British Ministry of Information and War Office, the National Film Board of Canada, and unidentified ‘Newsreel Pool Cameramen.’ If anyone has a claim to being the original creator of the material used in both the Crusade television series and the Campaigns videotapes, it would be those groups, rather than Fox.93Id.

Interestingly, the Court’s language on this issue referred only to the context of uncopyrighted works, noting that “[w]ithout a copyrighted work as the basepoint, the word ‘origin’ has no discernable limits.”94Id. But unless the reference to uncopyrighted works meant works that had never enjoyed copyright protection in the first place, it is unclear why this problem would be greater with once-copyrighted works that have fallen out of the public domain as opposed to works still under copyright protection. 

While these rationales offer substantive justification to eliminate attribution-related reverse passing off claims through the Lanham Act in all instances—not just claims relating to public domain works—the holding in Dastar was not without its significant problems. First, Dastar suffered a seemingly significant incongruity with the purpose of the federal trademark regime. If the goal of the Lanham Act is, indeed, consumer protection, the Supreme Court’s central holding in Dastar—that the Lanham Act’s reference to origin means the source of an actual physical product and not the wellspring of the idea or intellectual property embodied in a particular product—fails to reflect the reality of what factors animate consumer behavior, particularly with respect to intellectual property. Crediting is not just important to authors; it is vital the public’s decision-making process when it comes to consuming entertainment content. As Mary LaFrance has pointed out, contrary to the ultimate thrust of Dastar, which held that trademark law only protects against misidentification of the maker of the actual product rather than the ideas behind it, 

in the case of literary works or entertainment works, the identity of the actual author, performer, or creative overseer may frequently be more crucial to the consumer’s purchasing decision, than the identity of the party that manufactured the physical embodiment [because] the identity of key creative participants is often viewed as a source indicator that is an important predictor of the quality or content of the goods.95Mary LaFrance, When You Wish Upon Dastar: Creative Provenance and the Lanham Act, 23 Cardozo Arts & Ent. L.J. 197, 235 (2005). 

Indeed, Dastar creates an unusual result for physical products containing intellectual property, as it provides protection to the designation of origin about which consumers arguably care the least. To put a finer point on it, consumers do not care if the movie they are watching was printed on Kodak film or released by Warner Brothers; they care about the fact that it was directed by Martin Scorsese or written by Charlie Kaufman. Readers do not care about whether Random House or Harper Collins was responsible for the paper and ink on which a book appears; they care about whether the book was written by J.K. Rowling or Thomas Pynchon. Music listeners do not care if the album was issued by SubPop or Merge Records; they care about whether it contains performances by Spoon or The Mountain Goats. The disconnect between the law’s protections and this reality could not be more stark or problematic.

Most importantly, for a large swath of creatives, Dastar all but eliminated hope for securing crediting rights through legal claims.96There have been a few outlier decisions that have at least entertained the possibility that Dastar did not kill all attempts to vindicate attribution rights. In Gensler v. Strabala, for example, the Seventh Circuit left possible room for attribution claims based on Gensler’s clever recharacterization of its claim as about designation of origin for services, rather than an intangible good. Gensler v. Strabala, 764 F.3d 735, 736–37 (7th Cir. 2014). But commentators such as Mark McKenna and Lucas Osborn have argued that such a distinction is unavailing, in that it “depends on a mischaracterization of Dastar.” Mark P. McKenna & Lucas S. Osborn, Trademarks and Digital Goods, 92 Notre Dame L. Rev. 1425, 1436 (2017); see also Masck v. Sports Illustrated, No. 13-10226, 2013 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 81677, at *9 (E.D. Mich. June 11, 2013) (refusing to grant a motion to dismiss a misattribution claim on the basis of the Dastar because the court was “not ready . . . to conclude that Plaintiff’s photo [was] an intangible item” and not a tangible good, to which the Lanham Act’s definition of origin would apply). Admittedly, the Supreme Court took pains to caution that its decision had not necessarily eliminated all means to vindicate attribution rights and that Dastar did not speak to alternative causes of action to enforce crediting under common, state, and federal law, including other theories (such as false advertising) available under the Lanham Act. But as one practitioner euphemistically noted in the wake of Dastar, the remaining options relied on “creative lawyering.”97Mortensen, supra note 22. This turned out to be shorthand for shots in the dark that have little chance of working. For as we shall analyze in great detail infra, Dastar marked a significant inflection point in the state of attribution rights—significantly curtailing (if not altogether eliminating) the ability of most creators to receive credit under the law.98See, e.g., Ginsburg, Right to Claim Authorship, supra note 89, at 266 (noting that Dastar “drastically limited invocation of the trademarks law to enforce authors’ interests in being recognized as the creators of their works” and giving the “(despondent) answer that in the United States neither the copyright nor the trademarks laws establish a right of attribution generally applicable to all creators of all types of works of authorship”).

B.  The State of Crediting Rights in the Two Decades Since Dastar

In his post-Dastar assessment of the state of attribution rights written in 2007, Justin Hughes argued that the crediting gap left by Dastar was not as wide as commonly believed. “[I]f we work through all the possibilities, the practical hole created by Dastar may be operatively modest,” he contended.99Hughes, supra note 84, at 699. 

Dastar creates a gap in protection for those works and circumstances where there is a failure of appropriate attribution and no cause of action under VARA, under state moral rights laws, under 17 U.S.C. § 1202 for failure to include copyright management information, or under state unfair competition laws in states where the courts hold that Dastarshould not control, and where contract law does not establish a framework to protect attribution.100Id. at 699–700. 

Hughes’s assessment has proven excessively sanguine, unfortunately. Although the legal theories to which he cited as alternative bases for protection may be numerous in quantity, they are qualitatively impoverished and provide scant (if any) relief in the vast majority of situations. Moreover, in the nearly two decades since Dastar, the significant size of the credit gap has become manifest as the jurisprudence of the intervening years has made clear how little bite these alternative legal theories provide for the vindication of crediting interests.

1.  False Advertising Claims Under the Lanham Act

The very cause of action to which the Supreme Court cited as continuing to provide attribution protection post-Dastar—the Lanham Act’s prohibition on false advertising or misrepresentations of fact—has proven feeble in this regard. While Dastarexpressly foreclosed the possibility of attribution-related claims under section 43(a)(1)(A), it did not altogether eliminate the ability to vindicate crediting rights under the Lanham Act. Since the Dastar holding only opined as to the meaning of “origin” in the statute (which is invoked in section 43(a)(1)(A), referring to “confusion . . . as to the origin”),10115 U.S.C. § 1125(a)(1)(A). remaining provisions of the Lanham Act that did not employ that word could still have application to attribution-related issues. This was true for the Lanham Act’s cause of action for false advertising that, under section 43(a)(1)(B), created liability for anyone who “misrepresents the nature, characteristics [or] qualities . . . of . . . goods, services, or commercial activities.”102Id. § 1125(a)(1)(B). In fact, Dastar expressly pointed to this provision as one ground for relief that may still be possible following the decision. As the Court noted, 

If, moreover, the producer of a video that substantially copied the Crusade series were, in advertising or promotion, to give purchasers the impression that the video was quite different from that series, then one or more of the respondents might have a cause of action—not for reverse passing off under the “confusion . . . as to the origin” provision of § 43(a)(1)(A), but for misrepresentation under the “misrepresents the nature, characteristics [or] qualities” provision of § 43(a)(1)(B).103Dastar, 539 U.S. at 38. 

That said, such a path has proven less than promising and the Court’s supposition that such relief might be forthcoming has proven too optimistic, at best—or disingenuous, at worst. First, despite Dastar’s seemingly express exhortations to the contrary, subsequent courts have found that the holding in Dastar actually prevents both section 43(a)(1)(A) and section 43(a)(1)(B) claims on similar facts.104For example, in Agence France Presse v. Morel, a district court found that “the allegations supporting Morel’s false advertising claim are identical to those supporting his false representation claim. The import of Dastar that an author’s recourse for unauthorized use is in copyright cannot be avoided by shoe-horning a claim into section 43(a)(1)(B) rather than 43(a)(1)(A).” Agence France Presse v. Morel, 769 F. Supp. 2d 295, 308 (S.D.N.Y. 2011). That said, McKenna has argued that such holdings have “gone too far in barring all false advertising claims.” Mark P. McKenna, Dastar’s Next Stand, 19 J. Intell. Prop. L. 357, 378 (2012). Second, and more fundamentally, false advertising claims face additional hurdles not present in an attribution claim under section 43(a)(1)(A). These impediments would be difficult for most plaintiffs seeking vindication of an attribution right to clear. For example, many courts require competitor standing to bring a false advertising suit. Until the Supreme Court recently broke a circuit split, false advertising claims were, in many circuits, per se limited to commercial “actual” (direct?) competitors.105Virginia E. Scholtes, The Lexmark Test for False Advertising Standing: When Two Prongs Don’t Make a Right, 30 Berkeley Tech. L.J. 1023, 1034–35 (2015) (noting and detailing the three-way circuit split (balancing test, direct competitor test, and reasonable interest test) on standing for false advertising claim prior to Lexmark). Even now, standing remains a significant issue. As the Supreme Court noted in Lexmark International, Inc. v. Static Control Components, Inc., false advertising plaintiffs must show that they “fall within the zone of interests” protected by the statute and must have suffered a harm proximately caused as a result of the act of false advertising.106Lexmark Int’l, Inc. v. Static Control Components, Inc., 572 U.S. 118, 129–31 (2014). But to fall within the zone of interests, the plaintiff must “allege an injury to a commercial interest in reputation or sales.”107Id. at 132. Since consumers typically do not lose sales or suffer an injury to reputation, the new standard makes it exceedingly unlikely that consumers can bring a false advertising claim. While plaintiffs need not be direct competitors anymore to bring a claim under section 43(a)(1)(B), they still generally need to be competitors of some sort. 

Finally, false advertising is actionable under section 43(a)(1)(B) if and only if the statement is false on its face or the misrepresentation is material, that is, relied upon in consumers’ purchasing decision.108Time Warner Cable, Inc. v. DIRECTV, Inc., 497 F.3d 144, 153 (2d Cir. 2007); Turbon Int’l, Inc. v. Hewlett-Packard Co., 769 F. Supp. 2d 262, 268 (S.D.N.Y. 2011) (noting that to be actionable under section 43(a)(1)(B), “[t]he misrepresentation must be ‘material,’ in that it would influence consumers’ purchasing decisions”). This consumer reliance requirement makes eminent sense for false advertising claims, but it makes less sense when dealing with issues of attribution which should be, first and foremost, about vindicating the rights of authors to receive credit for their works rather than rights of the public from being deceived in material consumption decisions. Moreover, while the most famous and acclaimed of authors may survive such a materiality requirement, the vast majority will have a far more difficult time. 

2.  Attribution Claims Under the Visual Artists Rights Act

On the surface, VARA would appear to provide significant protection for the attribution rights of authors. Codified in section 106A of the Copyright Act, VARA offers creators an independent cause of action “to claim authorship of [their] work,” and “to prevent the use of his or her name as the author of any work of visual art which he or she did not create.”10917 U.S.C. § 106A(a)(1)(A)–(B). VARA claims are eligible for recovery of both statutory damages and attorneys’ fees and, to make matters even better for putative plaintiffs, unlike for infringement claims, an author does not even need to timely register the work in question as a condition for these remedies.110Id. § 412 (providing that “[i]n any action under this title, other than an action brought for a violation of the rights of the author under section 106A(a) . . . no award of statutory damages or of attorney’s fees . . . shall be made” if the infringement occurred before registration, unless registration occurred within three months after first publication of the work (emphasis added)). Thus, a cursory examination of VARA might elicit hope for the vindication of crediting. But a closer look reveals just how profoundly limited the rights under VARA are. 

First, as the very name of the legislation makes clear, VARA’s attribution rights only encompass works of visual art.111Id. § 106A. “Visual arts” are defined in 17 U.S.C. § 101. As such, the Act fails to apply to large swaths of subject matter otherwise protectible under the Copyright Act, including writings, music, and other important works. But the limits do not end there, as the attribution right does not even attach to all forms of art that might be characterized as visual in nature. Rather, the statute covers only paintings, drawings, prints, sculptures, and photographs created for exhibition purposes only.112Id. § 101. It therefore excludes the most commercially important of visual art—film.113Id. § 101 (“A work of visual art does not include . . . any . . . motion picture or other audiovisual work.”). It also does not apply to any “poster, map, globe, chart, technical drawing, diagram, model, applied art, . . . book, magazine, newspaper, periodical, data base, electronic information service, electronic publication, or similar publication” or any “merchandising item or advertising, promotional, descriptive, covering, or packaging material or container.”114Id. In addition, all works made for hire fall entirely outside of VARA’s protections.115Id. (“A work of visual art does not include . . . any work made for hire.”). Finally, for the narrow category of visual art works to which VARA might apply, the attribution right only attaches to original versions of those works or limited editions thereof issued in sets of “200 copies or fewer that are signed and consecutively numbered by the author.”116Id. At the end of the day, therefore, VARA’s attribution right only applies to a limited set of visual art works that are not prepared as works made for hire. In short, VARA provides no crediting protection for the vast majority of authors.

3.  Falsification and Removal/Alteration of Copyright Management Information Claims Under the Digital Millennium Copyright Act

Introduced into law with the passage of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act in 1998 (“DMCA”), the provisions of the Copyright Act that make it unlawful to falsify, alter, or remove copyright management information, which includes any authorship and copyright ownership data accompanying a work,117Id. § 1202(c)(2)–(3) (including, as copyright management information, “[t]he name of, and other identifying information about, the author of a work” and “[t]he name of, and other identifying information about, the copyright owner of the work, including the information set forth in a notice of copyright” when “conveyed in connection with copies or phonorecords of a work or performances or displays of a work”). would seemingly serve as a powerful vehicle to vindicate attribution rights. But while these provisions—codified in 17 U.S.C. § 1202 (“section 1202”)—constitute the sole protection granted to authorship information in all (rather than VARA’s narrow subset of) copyrighted works, their reach is deliberately constrained. Among other things, the structure of the two causes of action provided under section 1202—a claim for falsification of copyright management information (“CMI”)118Id. § 1202(a). and a claim for removal or alteration of CMI119Id. § 1202(b)(1).—makes clear that the protections therein are subservient to the goal of fighting infringement and not any inherent value that may come from crediting. In other words, the guiding principle behind section 1202 is preventing further infringement, not vindicating an author’s very real, but potential separate, interest in crediting. As such, section 1202 fails to provide a meaningful right to crediting for authors.

Specifically, a claim for falsification of CMI requires that plaintiffs show that defendants “knowingly and with the intent to induce, enable, facilitate, or conceal infringement . . . provide[d] copyright management information that is false.”120Id. § 1202(a). Similarly, a claim for removal/alteration of CMI requires that plaintiffs show that defendants “intentionally remove[d] or alter[ed] copyright management information . . . knowing, or . . . having reasonable grounds to know, that it will induce, enable, facilitate or conceal an infringement.”121Id. § 1202(b)(1). Thus, both falsification and removal/alteration claims have a strict double scienter requirement that necessitates plaintiffs demonstrate that defendants acted with a particular mens rea—that is, knowingly and with intent to facilitate infringement. 

This onerous scienter requirement is significant in at least three ways. First, it contrasts markedly from the complete absence of any scienter requirement in matters of direct copyright infringement.122Secondary liability is another matter. Knowledge is an essential element of any claim for contributory liability. See A&M Recs., Inc. v. Napster, Inc., 239 F.3d 1004, 1020 (9th Cir. 2001) (noting that “contributory liability requires that a secondary infringer ‘know or have reason to know’ of direct infringement” (citations omitted)). Specifically, infringement has always been a strict liability tort,123It is an axiomatic principle of copyright law that infringement constitutes a strict liability tort. See, e.g., Jacobs v. Memphis Convention & Visitors Bureau, 710 F. Supp. 2d 663, 678 n.21 (W.D. Tenn. 2010) (“Copyright infringement, however, is at its core a strict liability cause of action, and copyright law imposes liability even in the absence of an intent to infringe the rights of the copyright holder.”); Faulkner v. Nat’l Geographic Soc., 576 F. Supp. 2d 609, 613 (S.D.N.Y. 2008) (“Copyright infringement is a strict liability wrong in the sense that a plaintiff need not prove wrongful intent or culpability in order to prevail.”); Educ. Testing Serv. v. Simon, 95 F. Supp. 2d 1081, 1087 (C.D. Cal. 1999) (noting copyright infringement “is a strict liability tort”); Gener-Villar v Adcom Grp., Inc, 509 F. Supp 2d 177, 124 (D.P.R. 2007) (“[T]he Copyright Act is a strict liability regime under which any infringer, whether innocent or intentional, is liable.”). where a defendant’s state of mind is wholly irrelevant to the issue of liability.124Although state of mind never impacts the liability calculus for direct infringement claims, it can impact damages awards. While actual damages are not mitigated in any way by a defense of innocent infringement, statutory damages can be. See 17 U.S.C. § 504(c); Fitzgerald Publ’g Co. v. Baylor Publ’g Co., 807 F.2d 1110, 1113 (2d Cir. 1986) (“Even an innocent infringer is liable for infringement. . . . Innocence is only significant to a trial court when it fixes statutory damages, which is a remedy equitable in nature.”); see also R. Anthony Reese, Innocent Infringement in U.S. Copyright Law: A History, 30 Colum. J.L. & Arts 133, 182–83 (2007) (noting the declining value of the innocent infringement defense through the course of American copyright history). By sharp distinction, to prevail on an attribution claim through section 1202, a plaintiff must meet not one but two (if not three125One might argue that section 1202 actually has a triple scienter requirement, as the knowledge component has two independent criteria that must be met: “(1) knowledge of the existence of copyright management information, and (2) knowledge that the copyright management information has been removed or altered.” Falkner v. Gen. Motors LLC, 393 F. Supp. 3d 927, 939 (C.D. Cal. 2018).) showings on the defendants’ state of mind. 

Second, by conditioning attribution relief on an intent to facilitate infringement, section 1202 firmly grounds its protections in service of the fight against infringement rather than any broad vindication of crediting rights. This position is further buttressed by the fact that section 1202 only protects CMI that is “conveyed in connection with copies or phonorecords of a work or performances or displays of a work.”12617 U.S.C. § 1202(c). Furthermore, some courts have even read the legislative history and intent behind section 1202 to preclude application of falsification and removal/alternation claims to nondigital works.127See, e.g., Textile Secrets Int’l, Inc. v. Ya-Ya Brand Inc., 524 F. Supp. 2d 1184, 1201 (C.D. Cal. 2007) (finding that section 1202 was not “intended to apply to circumstances that have no relation to the Internet, electronic commerce, automated copyright protections or management systems, public registers, or other technological measures or processes as contemplated in the DMCA as a whole”); IQ Grp., Ltd. v. Wiesner Publ’g, LLC, 409 F. Supp. 2d 587, 597 (D.N.J. 2006) (finding that section 1202 “should not be construed to cover copyright management performed by people, which is covered by the Copyright Act, as it preceded the DMCA; it should be construed to protect copyright management performed by the technological measures of automated systems”). But see Murphy v. Millennium Radio Grp. LLC, 650 F.3d 295, 305 (3d Cir. 2011) (rejecting the logic of IQ Group and Textile Secrets and holding that section 1202 claims are “not restricted to the content of ‘automated copyright protection or management systems’ ” and “potentially lie[] whenever [CMI] is falsified or removed, regardless of the form in which that [CMI] is conveyed,” whether digital or not). According to the logic of these courts, section 1202’s primary purpose—fighting the scourge of piracy in the online environment because of the unique ease of digital infringement—compels such a limitation on section 1202 claims. Such a position, however, leaves attribution rights outside of the digital environment unaddressed.

Third, and relatedly, the dual scienter requirement makes it extraordinarily difficult to prevail on a section 1202 claim. To state a cognizable removal/alteration claim, for example, a plaintiff must demonstrate that either a work “came into Defendant’s possession with CMI attached, and Defendant intentionally and improperly removed it” or a work “came into Defendant’s possession without CMI attached, but Defendant knew that CMI had been improperly removed, and Defendant used the [work] anyway.”128Merideth v. Chi. Trib. Co., No. 12 C 7961, 2014 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 2346, at *7–8 (N.D. Ill. Jan. 9, 2014). A plaintiff may be unable to show how or in what form a work came into the defendant’s possession in the first place129This is particularly true pre-discovery and yet, with the “plausibility” pleading standards of Iqbal and Twombly, see Ashcroft v. Iqbal, 556 U.S. 662, 678 (2009); Bell Atl. Corp. v. Twombly, 550 U.S. 544, 556 (2007), courts will routinely dismiss section 1202 claims at the Rule 12 stage—prior to allowing discovery, see, e.g., Spinelli v. Nat’l Football League, 903 F.3d 185, 204–05 (2d Cir. 2018) (affirming dismissal of section 1202 removal claim on the grounds that the complaint failed to identify specific instances where the original photograph which the defendant accessed contained CMI and where said CMI was then removed by the defendant). and, even if they can, it is rare to have sufficient evidence showing that the removal/alteration was specifically with the intent to facilitate infringement. For example, an erroneous belief about the copyright status of an image can preclude a finding of the knowledge required to state a claim under section 1202.130See, e.g., Schiffer Publ’g, Ltd., v. Chronicle Books, LLC, No. 03-4962, 2004 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 23052, at *45 (E.D. Pa. Nov. 12, 2004) (holding that a plaintiff’s subjective belief that the disputed work was not under copyright protection precluded imposition of liability under section 1202). Meanwhile, even intentionally cropping out a copyright notice from an image is insufficient to meet the intent to facilitate requirement.131See, e.g., William Wade Waller Co. v. Nexstar Broad., Inc., No. 4-10-CV-00764 GTE, 2011 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 72803, at *12–13 (E.D. Ark. July 6, 2011) (granting summary judgment to the defendants on a section 1202 claim since the intentional cropping of a copyright notice from an image was insufficient to show that the defendant had acted with intent to “induce, enable, facilitate or conceal infringement”).

Not surprisingly, therefore, CMI claims are frequently adjudicated as a matter of law based on the failure to adequately make even a threshold showing of knowledge and intent.132See, e.g., Chevrestt v. Am. Media, Inc., 204 F. Supp. 3d 629, 632 (S.D.N.Y. 2016) (granting a defendant’s motion to dismiss since “there are no factual allegations supporting an inference that [the defendant]’s CMI alteration or removal was done intentionally”); Stevens v. Corelogic, Inc., 194 F. Supp. 3d 1046, 1052–53 (S.D. Cal. 2016) (granting summary judgment to the defendants on the plaintiff’s section 1202 claims on the grounds that “[the p]laintiffs present no evidence that [the defendant] intentionally removed CMI” and that “[the p]laintiffs fail to provide any evidence that [the defendant] knew or had reasonable grounds to know that the removal of CMI in the metadata would lead to copyright infringement”); Kelly v. Arriba Soft Corp., 77 F. Supp. 2d 1116, 1122 (C.D. Cal. 1999) (granting summary judgment to the defendant on the plaintiff’s section 1202 claims on the grounds that, inter alia, “[the p]laintiff has not offered any evidence showing [the d]efendant’s actions were intentional, rather than merely an unintended side effect”). Consider, for example, the difficulties that an author might face in bringing a section 1202 claim even against someone who both knowingly and intentionally crops an image to cut out the authorship information. Even assuming such authorship information qualifies as actionable CMI, there are myriad reasons (that may have nothing to do with the concealing of infringement) to crop out such authorship information. Among other things, the person making use of the image could claim to have cropped the images for aesthetic purposes, because of inherent space limitations for the usage, or without any idea that they were removing CMI.133Cf. Sid Avery & Assocs., Inc. v. Pixels.com, LLC, 479 F. Supp. 3d 859, 870–71 (C.D. Cal. 2020) (finding that allowing contributors to place watermarks containing false CMI on images contained on a network was insufficient to form the basis for section 1202 claim against the network operator since the allowance of such watermarks could be for reasons other than to “induce, enable, facilitate, or conceal infringement”). In all of these instances, authors may have legitimate, if not strong, interests in seeing uses of their work include attribution. Yet they would be unactionable under section 1202.

4.  Attribution Rights Under State Unfair Competition Law and Other Common Law Theories.

Although there was initially some optimism about attribution rights remaining available under state law post-Dastar, such hopes have proven misplaced. First, in many states, such as California, courts have interpreted unfair competition protections as coextensive with the Lanham Act. Thus, if Dastar renders attribution claims no longer viable under the Lanham Act, such claims must necessarily also fail under state unfair competition law.134See, e.g., Williams v. UMG Recordings, Inc., 281 F. Supp. 2d 1177, 1186 (C.D. Cal. 2003) (rejecting a reverse passing off claim related to failure to attribute on the grounds that “[t]he Ninth Circuit has consistently held that state law unfair competition claims are ‘congruent’ with Lanham Act claims” and that Dastar precludes such a claim under the Lanham Act). In California, although state unfair competition law mirrors federal law in terms of liability, remedies can differ. See Cal. Civ. Code § 3294 (providing for the availability of punitive damages for any torts under state law, such as unfair competition, when the defendant acts with oppression, fraud, or malice). Second, in the wake of Dastar, both Tom Bell135Tom W. Bell, Misunderestimating Dastar: How the Supreme Court Unwittingly Revolutionized Copyright Preemption, 65 Md. L. Rev. 206, 232 (2006). and Michael Landau136Michael Landau, Dastar v. Twentieth Century Fox: The Need for Stronger Protection of Attribution Rights in the United States, 61 N.Y.U. Ann. Surv. Am. L. 273, 304–05 (2005). suggested that copyright preemption issues raised by the decision could preclude use of state or common law theories to protect attribution rights. These predictions turned out to be correct, as courts have regularly read Dastar in such a manner.137By 2007, the Southern District of New York had no compunction about declaring that “[i]t is well-settled that a claim for reverse passing off predicated on the theory that defendant’s product replicates plaintiff’s expressions contains no extra element and is therefore preempted.” Silverstein v. Penguin Putnam, Inc., 522 F. Supp. 2d 579, 608 (S.D.N.Y. 2007). This state of affairs continues to this day. See, e.g., Shepard v. Eur. Pressphoto Agency, 291 F. Supp. 3d 465, 475–76 (S.D.N.Y. 2017) (holding that an unfair competition claim that the defendants misrepresented the plaintiff’s photos as their own was preempted); Ryoo Dental, Inc. v. Han, No. SACV 12-308-JLS, 2015 U.S. Dist. LEXIS, at *8–9 (C.D. Cal. July 9, 2015) (holding that state law false advertising and unfair competition claims against a defendant for copying a website and passing it off as his own work constitutes a reverse passing off claim that is preempted, per Dastar, by federal copyright law); Aagard v. Palomar Builders, Inc., 344 F. Supp. 2d 1211, 1218 (E.D. Cal. 2004) (expressly rejecting a claim for “reverse palming off” of certain house design plans under state unfair competition as “preempted by the Copyright Act”); 1 Melville B. Nimmer & David Nimmer, Nimmer on Copyright § 1.15[E][2] (2022) (contending that a reverse passing off claim “is in fact a disguised copyright infringement claim and, hence, preempted”). In fact, even prior to Dastar, some courts viewed state unfair competition claims seeking credit as preempted.138See Fisher v. Dees, 794 F.2d 432, 440 (9th Cir. 1986) (“Assuming arguendo that the false claiming of authorship constitutes a separate tort under California law, such a cause of action is nevertheless preempted by federal law.”).

The absence of clear legal protections for crediting has led some plaintiffs to rely (often futilely) on a veritable smorgasbord of common law theories in an attempt to cobble together some basis for relief. For example, when a Cornell graduate student (Antonia Demas) sued a member of her advisory committee (Professor David A. Levitsky of the School of Human Ecology) for improperly taking credit for research she had conducted into the nutritional habits of elementary schoolchildren, using that research to obtain a significant grant without her name, and then actively and publicly rebuffing her allegations of wrongdoing,139See generally Demas v. Levitsky, 738 N.Y.S.2d 402 (N.Y. App. Div. 2002). Demas also sued Cornell University for failing to protect her from Levitsky’s actions. she did not bring a claim under the Lanham Act for misattribution.140Id. at 407. Instead, she was left reciting the common law’s greatest hits in her complaint by claiming liability for misappropriation, fraud, breach of contract, breach of fiduciary duty, negligence, tortious interference with prospective economic advantage, defamation, and intentional infliction of emotional distress.141Id. While circumstances may make it possible to prevail on one of these theories, victims of crediting abuse face an uphill battle in meeting all of the required elements of such common law claims.142For example, Demas had her breach of fiduciary duty and contract claims dismissed on the grounds that that she could not demonstrate the existence of either. Id. at 408. Indeed, most circumstances of crediting abuse will not involve the existence of a contract calling for crediting rights (due to power differentials that will likely preclude such a provision, even if there is privity of contract between the two parties) or a fiduciary duty (which is imposed for only special relationships).

5.  Private Contracting: The Promise and Perils

With false advertising, VARA, CMI falsification/removal/alteration and unfair competition claims providing little relief, creators are left with private contracting to do the work of crediting.143See Sprigman et al., supra note 36, at 1402 (“The paucity of formal IP protection for attribution rights in the U.S. does not, however, mean that creators are unable to obtain credit for their efforts; it simply means that creators must use the property rights that U.S. IP law gives them as leverage to negotiate for attribution. Instead of being a subject of IP law, attribution in the U.S. becomes a subject of contract law and the operation of social norms that either favor or disfavor attribution within specific creative communities and industries.”). There is no doubt that, in some industries, private contracting and even social norms have gone a long way toward ensuring proper crediting. But significant lacunae remain and, even where private contracting and norms do provide for crediting, it is not always reflective of authorial contributions. As such, reliance on private systems to govern crediting is insufficient to provide for appropriate attribution rights.

There are some fields where private contracting has given rise to deeply nuanced and vigorously patrolled crediting requirements. Two paradigmatic examples are Hollywood and academia.144See David A. Gerber, Copyright Reigns–Supreme: Notes on Dastar Corp. v. Twentieth Century Fox Film Corp., 93 Trademark Rep. 1029, 1033 (2003) (“Academia and Hollywood are perhaps the industries most focused on creative credits. Anti-plagiarism codes (in the former) and collective bargaining agreements containing elaborate credit requirements (in the latter) are common methods by which these industries self-regulate the provision of credit.”). In the movie industry, collective bargaining has helped level the playing field between the studios and talent, and the operative guild agreements have insisted on getting even the most minute of credits done correctly.145See, e.g., Robert Davenport, Screen Credit in the Entertainment Industry, 10 Loy. Ent. L.J. 129, 154–55, 159–60 (1990) (detailing the guild-related crediting provisions for writers, directors, and actors). Though it is not without its flaws,146See infra notes 152–54 and accompanying text. the system has worked relatively well.147Fisk, supra note 53, at 80 (“Equality and fairness are fairly high in the formal credit process . . . . [But b]ecause the system costs significant time and effort, the credit system seems to work only for those contributors (directors, producers, writers, and actors) for whom the financial value of credit is large enough to make it economically sensible to invoke the whole cumbersome process.”). And even if it might seem a tad onerous to any member of the public who has sat through the credits of a motion picture, those credits instill industry professionals with a sense of pride over their brief moment of acknowledgement on the silver screen. Just as importantly, by making the contributions of industry professional publicly legible in databases such as IMDb.com,148Founded in 1990, IMDb.com is the Internet Movie Database, which touts itself as “the world’s most popular and authoritative source for movie, TV and celebrity content.” What Is IMDb?, IMDb https://help.imdb.com/article/imdb/general-information/what-is-imdb/G836CY29Z4SGNMK5 [https://
perma.cc/VC9T-3KR4]. IMDb is likely the most comprehensive publicly searchable movie information system in the world; its IMDbPro system is used widely by entertainment professionals, and individual IMDb profiles serve as important resumes and business cards in the industry.
the regime also ensures that those individuals can reap the reputational and economic benefits of their credits,149See Davenport, supra note 145, at 129 (noting that “[s]creen credit is probably the single most important factor for artists in the entertainment business. This factor determines who is ‘hot’ and who is not; it is the basis for determining whether artists are offered subsequent assignments and their increase in compensation for those assignments”). or, to give a notable example, help avoid the ruin that might come from an unfair attribution. To wit, from 1968 through 2000, the Directors Guild of America allowed aggrieved directors who believed a studio or other producer had butchered their movie in unimaginable ways to petition to have their directorial credit replaced with the fictional “Alan Smithee” pseudonym, lest the final product sully the real director’s good name.150See generally Directed by Allen Smithee (Jeremy Braddock & Stephen Hock eds., 2001).

In the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, strong attribution norms have given rise to anti-plagiarism codes, which have the bite of law and are frequently enforced against offenders in university disciplinary proceedings. Though not perfect,151In 2004, two of Harvard Law School’s most celebrated professors—Charles J. Ogletree Jr. and Laurence H. Tribe—faced allegations of plagiarism for the misuse of sources. See Sara Rimer, When Plagiarism’s Shadow Falls on Admired Scholars, N.Y. Times (Nov. 24, 2004), https://www.nytimes.
com/2004/11/24/nyregion/when-plagiarisms-shadow-falls-on-admired-scholars.html [https://perma.cc/
LY7G-S7DX]. Both professors admitted to wrongdoing but claimed that their failings were entirely accidental. Id. Some, including the Harvard Crimson, criticized the relatively light sanctions Ogletree and Tribe received from the university, which seemed particularly mild when compared to punishments meted out to students in similar situations. Id.
the carrot of the norm and the stick of disciplinary proceedings have served to ensure generally robust crediting practices.

But in other industries without collective bargaining or finely tuned attribution codes, where crediting is just as important and billions of dollars are on the line, there are no such formal crediting regimes. In such endeavors, crediting decisions are often left to general norms and individual negotiations. As a result, crediting often becomes more about power than actual contribution. As Catherine Fisk points out about most fields of entertainment, “Apart from the guild-controlled screen credit system, the credit system for other creative and technical people in entertainment seems to be more governed by norms, charity, and power than by law.”152Fisk, supra note 53, at 80. One notable example of this is producer credits, which are not governed by collective bargaining. As a result, producing credits are notoriously corrupt, and a veritable “prestige market” for production credits exists. Meanwhile, even in the guild crediting systems of the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists, the Writers Guild of America, and the Directors Guild of America, power relations frequently trump creative contributions in determining attribution rights. As Fisk notes,

Because the guild agreements limit the number of people who can be credited in some roles on any one film, power relations among various possible contenders for credit affect who is listed. Individual workers with significant bargaining power (actors, directors, writers, and producers) negotiate for specific treatment on each project, which may or may not reflect the same level of artistic contribution as compared to others who receive a similar type of credit on a different film or who receive the same credit (or no credit) on the same film.153Id. at 77.

The absence of legal protection for attribution rights outside of private contracting has profound consequences for distributive justice. When viewed through the prisms of race, gender, or socioeconomic disparities, crediting practices have a particularly troubling history. Simply put, those who are not white, male, or wealthy have far too often struggled to receive credit, even when they indisputably authored work. This is because crediting is as much (if not more) about power dynamics and contractual leverage as it is about origination. As K.J. Greene has poignantly noted, 

Top directors, such as a Spike Lee or Steven Spielberg, will have no problem obtaining credit [by exercising their bargaining power in negotiations to contract for it], but anyone else dependent on a contract to secure credit will likely lose out. . . . [W]hile Dastar, on its face, seems completely neutral on the subordination issue, it actually promotes greater subordination; despite the Oprah’s and Denzel’s of the world, Blacks, women, and other minorities still occupy the bottom of the totem pole in entertainment hierarchies, making them the most vulnerable to misattribution abuses.154Greene, supra note 90, at 444.

Greene’s concern is not speculative or hypothetical. Unfortunately, it is widely reflected in the history of scientific and creative enterprise.

Consider, for example, the systematic undervaluing and underrecognition of innovations by women. In the sciences, the phenomenon even has its own term—the Matilda effect155Historian Margaret Rossiter coined this phrase as a reference to the systematic undervaluing and lack of crediting to women in the sciences. See Margaret W. Rossiter, The Matthew Matilda Effect in Science, 23 Soc. Stud. Sci. 325, 325–26 (1993).—and it is no less prevalent in the world of arts and letters. To take a few illustrative examples, Margaret Keane was the actual painter of the “big-eyed waifs” long credited to her husband, Walter;156Jessica Gelt, Relative of Discredited ‘Big Eyes’ Artist Makes a Defense, L.A. Times (Jan. 2, 2015, 5:30 AM), https://www.latimes.com/entertainment/arts/la-et-cm-keane-nephew-20150102-story.
html [https://perma.cc/Z7AY-NLSJ]; see Keane v. Keane, No. 87-1741, 1990 WL 2874, at *2–4 (9th Cir. Jan. 18, 1990).
Elizabeth Magie created the game of Monopoly, not Charles Darrow;157Mary Pilon, Monopoly’s Inventor: The Progressive Who Didn’t Pass ‘Go’, N.Y. Times
(Feb. 13, 2015), https://www.nytimes.com/2015/02/15/business/behind-monopoly-an-inventor-who-didnt-pass-go.html [https://perma.cc/8TM9-AAXU].
and although attributed to Marcel Duchamp, The Fountain—the infamous urinal that rocked the art world at the 1913 Armory Show—was likely the work of Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven.158William A. Camfield, Marcel Duchamp: Fountain 13 (1989); How Duchamp Stole the Urinal, Scot. Rev. of Books (Nov. 4, 2014), https://www.scottishreviewofbooks.org/2014/11/how-duchamp-stole-the-urinal [https://perma.cc/78R6-ZWLV] (citing an April 11, 1917 letter, not made public until 1983, wherein Duchamp admits that Fountain was the work of “[o]ne of [his] female friends,” thereby contradicting public claims he made to sole authorship of the work). In short, crediting is often about who has the leverage (and, in the cases of some swindlers, the gall) to claim authorship, not who really created a work.

The dogged persistence of disparities in attribution has far-reaching consequences, exacerbating existing gender gaps in a number of professions, including the law. For example, Jordana Goodman’s empirical study of crediting practices for patent attorneys, which examined a set of over 200,000 patent applications and office action responses before the United States Patent and Trademark Office from 2016–2020, found an alarming divergence between “attribution and presence” for female patent attorneys, even when accounting for nongendered partner-associate power differentials, years of practice, and other relevant experience.159Jordana R. Goodman, Ms. Attribution: How Authorship Credit Contributes to the Gender Gap, 24 Yale J. Law & Tech. (forthcoming 2023) (manuscript at 6), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/
papers.cfm?abstract_id=4105773 [https://perma.cc/L379-DWHX].
 In the field of computer software, for instance, Goodman estimates that female attorneys suffered a thirty-one percent shortfall in crediting.160Id. at 6. As she concludes, the “lack of equitable attribution perpetually disadvantages women, negatively impacts their career progression, and likely creates an insurmountable chasm between their capabilities and their prestige.”161Id. at 5. Ultimately, such practices “contribute[] to women’s systemic underrepresentation at top leadership levels throughout the United States,”162Id. at 4. a state of affairs presided over by current private ordering regimes such as the workflow structure of modern law firms.163Id. at 21–25.

       The problematic dynamics in leaving crediting to private contracting are on full display in the music industry. As Fisk points out, “in music there is a not uncommon practice of people who do not contribute to the writing of a song being ‘cut in’ on songwriting credit.”164Fisk, supra note 53, at 80. The practice is not always nefarious, of course. Peter Jackson’s Beatlesdocumentary, The Beatles: Get Back,165The Beatles: Get Back (Apple Corps Limited & WingNut Films 2021). provides a notable example. As the film’s exhaustive studio footage capturing the crafting of the title song makes crystal clear, the work was the singular product of Paul McCartney’s musical ingenuity. But the song’s writing credits—“Lennon/McCartney”—tell a very different tale. In this case, a desire to keep an uneasy (though ultimately unsustainable) peace and to honor the duo’s (soon-to-be dissolved) songwriting partnership came at the expense of accuracy. Less innocuously, however, there are myriad instances where crediting practices reflect power more than creative contribution and cut along disturbing gender or racial fault lines. To take one example, Little Richard coauthored the classic Tutti Frutti with Creole songwriter Dorothy LaBostrie.166Richard would later claim that he solo-authored Tutti Frutti, a claim that LaBostrie rejected in asserting that she, and not Richard, wrote the song alone. See Jeff Hannusch, I Hear You Knockin’: The Sound of New Orleans Rhythm and Blues 222 (1985). The actual provenance of the song therefore remains a mystery. However, as if it were not bad enough that handlers cajoled him into selling his publishing rights to his record company for a proverbial song (a meager fifty dollars), he also provided songwriting credit to a party that likely had nothing whatsoever to do with the authorship of the song167Although the facts surrounding who actually wrote the song are in dispute, besides
Richard and LaBostrie, the official musical composition contains a songwriting credit for Joe
Lubin. See Songview Search, BMI, https://repertoire.bmi.com/Search/Search?Main_Search_Text=
tutti%20frutti&Main_Search=Title&Sub_Search=Please%20Select&Search_Type=all&View_Count=0&Page_Number=0 [https://perma.cc/5GMA-NGUV].
—one that may have been the be pseudonym for the owner of Richard’s record label (who reaped the royalties, which continue to be earned on the song to this day).168See K.J. Greene, Copyright, Culture & Black Music: A Legacy of Unequal Protection, 21 Hastings Comm. & Ent. L.J. 339, 376 (1999) (citing Jim Dawson & Steve Propes, What Was the First Rock and Roll Record? 189 (1992)). Art Rube owned Specialty records, and there is a dispute as to whether Joe Lubin was a pseudonym he would use to earn royalties on songs or whether this was actually songwriter Joe Lubin, who had written songs for the likes of Doris Day, Lainie Kazan, and others. Dawson and Proper argue the former, while others, including the New York Times, have claimed the latter. See Associated Press, Joe Lubin, 84, Co-Writer of ‘Tutti Frutti’, N.Y. Times (Oct. 20, 2001), https://www.nytimes.com/2001/10/20/arts/joe-lubin-84-co-writer-of-tutti-frutti.html [https://perma.cc/
VT2X-JJ6Q].
As Greene documents, Richard’s experience was no outlier; it was par for the course. And as he observes, “The fact that minority artists received less protection—or in many cases no protection—for their compositions undermines the incentive theory of intellectual property laws. Many Black artists received little no economic reward for their creations. Others certainly received less than what they should have.”169Greene, supra note 168, at 378.

Even beyond issues of race, gender, and socioeconomic status, crediting often reflects relational and power dynamics that may have nothing whatsoever to do with real creative contributions, such as the tenured professor receiving sole authorial credit for a work that includes substantial contributions from graduate students, the law firm partner who has no problem enjoying attribution for the work of a junior associate, or the senator whose “words” are actually those of a speechwriter. Indeed, Spenser Clark’s deep dive into the crediting practices on Hold Up, one of the songs from Beyoncé’s acclaimed concept album Lemonade, illustrates this point in the world of pop music.170Spenser Clark, Hold Up: Digital Sampling, Copyright Infringement, and Artist Credit Through the Lens of Beyoncé’s Lemonade, 26 J. Intell. Prop. L. 131, 134–35 (2019) (describing Beyoncé’s crediting decisions as having no “rhyme or reason”). As Clark explains, Hold Up’s title and some of its lyrics come from a line that Ezra Koenig, the lead singer of Vampire Weekend, had once tweeted (which, itself, was based on a lyrics from Maps, a song by indie rockers the Yeah Yeah Yeahs) and subsequent lyrics Koenig had developed in the studio with Beyoncé’s noted producer, Diplo, while they were working with a loop from an Andy Williams song.171Id. Beyoncé ultimately gave Koenig and the Yeah Yeah Yeahs songwriting credit on Hold Up and Diplo a producing credit, but, notably, Williams received no credit at all—either as a songwriter or producer.172See id. at 135; see also Brittany Spanos, Ezra Koenig Explains Writing Credit on Beyonce’s ‘Lemonade’, Rolling Stone (Apr. 25, 2016), https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-news/ezra-koenig-explains-writing-credit-on-beyonces-lemonade-73547 [https://perma.cc/756Z-B7JA]; Ezra Koenig (@arzE), Twitter (Apr. 25, 2016, 11:05 AM), https://twitter.com/arzE/status/7246605875
23805184 [https://perma.cc/E3C4-W7EV].
As Clark concludes, 

Oftentimes [artist crediting] choices are not based in law, but rather more intangible considerations like the desire to maintain relationships with creators they wish to work with in the future. Andy Williams’ song, for example, was released in 1963, and therefore [Beyoncé] Knowles was probably less concerned with that relationship as she was with other, more relevant artists.173Clark, supra note 170, at 135.

Notably, in the music industry (just as in some other creative fields), crediting is not only of reputational or ethical significance; it also determines payment of royalties related to the exploitation of sound recordings and musical compositions.

Finally, besides the power dynamics inherent in the private negotiation of credits, the fundamental constraints of contracting also limit how far it can go in ensuring proper attribution. Crediting claims that rest on negotiated obligations require privity for enforcement, and the realities of the marketplace dictate that not all uses of one’s work will be by individuals or entities with whom an author could or would contract.174Fisk, for example, has presented a compelling case for the existence of an independent law of attribution that operates outside of the intellectual property laws dealing with infringement, see Fisk, supra note 53, at 106–07 (“[C]redit is valuable and, consequently, collaborators often are tempted opportunistically to claim credit where it is not due. The temptation cannot be fully controlled simply by voluntary agreement.”), and she proposes an implied right of attribution in every employment agreement that could be expressly waived depending on the nature of the attributive work, id. at 111–12. Indeed, this is precisely why we do not leave protection against unauthorized reproduction or other unlawful uses of copyrighted works to contracts and, instead, have infringement claims available that require only access and substantial similarity—no privity and, indeed, no knowledge. All told, therefore, while contracting, especially via collective bargaining, has enjoyed some success in certain industries, private law has not proven sufficiently robust to ensure that crediting rights are adequately protected in the many areas of the information economy where they matter vitally to authors, investors, and consumers.

III.  REFORM

A.  Questioning Attribution Rights: Why Good Norms Do Not Necessarily Make Good Law

Our legal regime’s present crediting gap—the yawning chasm between the high value of attribution and the surprising absence of safeguards in our existing system to protect the practice—would seem to suggest a manifest need for reform. But before wholeheartedly embracing the adoption of some kind of credit-mandating legal regime, it is worth pausing to consider that best practices do not always translate into righteous laws. In other words, while giving credit might be the right thing to do, that does not necessarily mean we should legally require it, either broadly or in limited contexts. To put it bluntly, not all norms need the bite of law. For example, compliance with some norms—like thanking a gift giver—is more meaningful when it results from volition rather than compulsion. Moreover, to limit the scope of potential government intrusion into personal affairs, we do not want the law to microregulate every aspect of human existence. Thus, it is important to approach any effort to expand the law to regulate behavior that was previously not squarely within the aegis of our legal regime with a healthy amount of skepticism. 

For example, despite moral entreaties against them, prevarications mostly lie175Pardon the pun. outside of the scope of legal regulation—and with good reason. As Judge Alex Kozinski explained in one of the most mordant and entertaining paragraphs ever to appear in the Federal Reporter, such a societal choice honors the freedom of human expression, regardless of moral valence, and serves greater First Amendment interests. “Living means lying,” Kozinski famously posited (in words that are part of the public domain and thereby forgiving of extended quotation):

Self-expression that risks prison if it strays from the monotonous reporting of strictly accurate facts about oneself is no expression at all. Saints may always tell the truth, but for mortals living means lying. We lie to protect our privacy (“No, I don’t live around here”); to avoid hurt feelings (“Friday is my study night”); to make others feel better (“Gee you’ve gotten skinny”); to avoid recriminations (“I only lost $10 at poker”); to prevent grief (“The doc says you’re getting better”); to maintain domestic tranquility (“She’s just a friend”); to avoid social stigma (“I just haven’t met the right woman”); for career advancement (“I’m sooo lucky to have a smart boss like you”); to avoid being lonely (“I love opera”); to eliminate a rival (“He has a boyfriend”); to achieve an objective (“But I love you so much”); to defeat an objective (“I’m allergic to latex”); to make an exit (“It’s not you, it’s me”); to delay the inevitable (“The check is in the mail”); to communicate displeasure (“There’s nothing wrong”); to get someone off your back (“I’ll call you about lunch”); to escape a nudnik (“My mother’s on the other line”); to namedrop (“We go way back”); to set up a surprise party (“I need help moving the piano”); to buy time (“I’m on my way”); to keep up appearances (“We’re not talking divorce”); to avoid taking out the trash (“My back hurts”); to duck an obligation (“I’ve got a headache”); to maintain a public image (“I go to church every Sunday”); to make a point (“Ich bin ein Berliner”); to save face (“I had too much to drink”); to humor (“Correct as usual, King Friday”); to avoid embarrassment (“That wasn’t me”); to curry favor (“I’ve read all your books”); to get a clerkship (“You’re the greatest living jurist”); to save a dollar (“I gave at the office”); or to maintain innocence (“There are eight tiny reindeer on the rooftop”).

. . . .

Even if untruthful speech were not valuable for its own sake, its protection is clearly required to give breathing room to truthful self-expression, which is unequivocally protected by the First Amendment. . . . If all untruthful speech is unprotected, as the dissenters claim, we could all be made into criminals, depending on which lies those making the laws find offensive. And we would have to censor our speech to avoid the risk of prosecution for saying something that turns out to be false. The First Amendment does not tolerate giving the government such power.176United States v. Alvarez, 638 F.3d 666, 674–75 (9th Cir. 2011) (Kozinski, J., concurring in the denial of rehearing en banc), aff’d 567 U.S. 709 (2012).

We not only insulate certain forms of morally suspect speech from legal liability, but also certain acts. So while we believe cheating on a spouse is repugnant to one’s martial vows, in most states no civil liability attaches to unfaithfulness, and it is largely irrelevant in most divorce proceedings. Thus, while we may have a broad societal consensus that some actions constitute moral wrongs, we do not necessarily criminalize, or impose civil liability on, all of those wrongs. 

That said, crediting directly ties to a matter of significant public, rather than solely private or familial, interest. As we have detailed, attribution rights not only strike at the core of the utilitarian function of the copyright regime—advancing progress in the arts by incentivizing the production of creative work—but also other social benefits tied to economic and cultural interests. Indeed, in the conclusion to her exhaustive survey of crediting regimes in a wide variety of industries involved in scientific and cultural production, Fisk concludes that, while private law and norms have provided some protection for attribution rights, the current state of affairs warrants, if not compels, some type of legal intervention.177Fisk, supra note 53, at 111 (“My survey of attribution norms throughout American society convinces me that the degree to which and circumstances in which attribution should be granted vary. Consequently, law should supplement but not supplant the process by which work communities create norms of attribution.”). But Fisk also cautions that any reform should supplement, but not supplant, existing practices.178Fisk takes pains to caution that she only advocates modest reform, as she emphasizes the value in flexibility and avoidance of overly onerous regulations. Id. at 109–11. Since private ordering and norms have functioned with some success, there appears to be wisdom in approaching attribution rights with a disinclination to implement any new regime that is overly onerous or excessively undermines flexibility. With that caveat in mind, we turn to assess several proposals for reform. 

B.  The Problem with Overturning Dastar and Amending the Lanham Act

The most immediate and obvious reform measure for addressing the crediting gap created by Dastar and its progeny would involve overturning Dastar’s core holding. For example, as Justin Hughes has suggested, such an action could occur through legislation that amends the Lanham Act to define origin as including the intellectual source of creative works that have not yet fallen into the public domain.179Hughes, supra note 84, at 684. In other words, congressional action could restore the availability of attribution-related claims for reverse passing off for works still under copyright protection. But such legislation would also respect the Supreme Court’s rightful concern about limiting erstwhile rightsholders with expired copyrights from attempting to perpetuate their monopolistic stranglehold on the exploitation of creative works by turning the Lanham Act into a “species of mutant copyright law that limits the public’s ‘federal right to “copy and to use” ’ expired copyrights”180Dastar Corp. v. Twentieth Century Fox Film Corp., 539 U.S. 23, 34 (2003) (citing Bonita Boats, Inc. v. Thunder Craft Boards, Inc., 489 U.S. 141, 165 (1989)). However, even if the legislation is carefully crafted to apply the holding of Dastar only to works with expired copyrights, such a proposal might create more problems than it solves. Among other things, the Lanham Act is a poor fit for the vindication of attributive interests in creative works, and, even prior to Dastar, those inadequacies and fissures showed.

The ability of litigants to vindicate attribution rights through the vehicle of the Lanham Act has always been less than ideal—the Ninth Circuit’s Montoro decision and its progeny notwithstanding. Indeed, Bobbi Kwall argued this very point in 2002—just before the Dastar ruling—when she highlighted at least three ways in which the extant jurisprudence of the time stunted attribution claims, even under the Lanham Act.181See Roberta Rosenthal Kwall, The Attribution Right in the United States: Caught in the Crossfire Between Copyright and Section 43(a), 77 Wash. L. Rev. 985, 1020 (2002). First, competing interpretations of section 43(a) by the federal courts in different jurisdictions had created a patchwork of inconsistent requirements that hampered the viability of reverse passing off claims for misattribution.182See id. at 1005–14. Second, courts had sometimes even found such claims preempted under section 301 of the Copyright Act.183See, e.g., Natkin v. Winfrey, 111 F. Supp. 2d 1003, 1012–13 (N.D. Ill. 2000); LaCour v. Time Warner, Inc., No. 99 C 7105, 2000 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 7286, at *25–27 (N.D. Ill. 2000); Tensor Grp., Inc. v. Glob. Web Sys., Inc., No. 96 C 4606, 1999 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 12721, at *8­9 (N.D. Ill. 1999); FASA Corp. v. Playmates Toys, Inc., 869 F. Supp. 1334, 1363–64 (N.D. Ill. 1994); Goes Lithography Co. v. Banta Corp., 26 F. Supp. 2d 1042, 1046–47 (N.D. Ill. 1998). Finally, and potentially most problematically, section 43(a)’s ultimate focus on consumer confusion and the prevention of deception184See, e.g., 15 U.S.C. § 1125(a)(1)(A) (providing a cause of action against “[a]ny person who, on or in connection with any goods or services . . . uses in commerce any word, term, name, symbol, or device, or any combination thereof, or any false designation of origin, false or misleading description of fact, or false or misleading representation of fact, which is likely to cause confusion, or to cause mistake, or to deceive as to the affiliation, connection, or association of such person with another person, or as to the origin, sponsorship, or approval of his or her goods, services, or commercial activities by another person.”). led courts to “become preoccupied with different manifestations of ‘falsity’ at the expense of [protecting] an author’s personality and reputational interests.”185See Kwall, supra note 181, at 1020. Thus, dignitary injuries to an artist from a lack of attribution, or even speculative injuries as to the future harm that a lack of recognition may bring, are not cognizable under a section 43(a) claim. So, for example, in 1999, the Fifth Circuit affirmed summary judgment for a record label on a section 43(a) claim for reversing passing off based on the record label’s alleged failure to credit the authors of a digital sample of the authors’ work.186Batiste v. Island Recs., Inc., 179 F.3d 217, 225 (5th Cir. 1999). Even though it acknowledged the lack of attribution, the Fifth Circuit still denied the claim on the basis that the plaintiffs could not demonstrate a genuine issue of likelihood of confusion.187Id. It also helped that there was some crediting in the liner notes to the band of which two of the plaintiffs were members (though not to these two plaintiffs’ actual names). Id. Read strictly, section 43(a)’s requirement of a showing of likelihood of consumer confusion would threaten most attribution claims, especially those that stem from smaller uncredited uses of a work188See, e.g., Debs v. Meliopoulos, No. 1:90-cv-939-WCO, 1991 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 19864, at *47–48 (N.D. Ga. 1991) (“Dr. Meliopoulos may have technically violated the Lanham Act . . . because he failed to attribute Dr. Debs’ contribution, albeit relatively small, to his EE6520 class notes. However, because the court finds that no likelihood of confusion exists [and] because there is no evidence of actual confusion, the court finds that Dr. Debs is not entitled to [legal] relief under section 43(a).”). The holding in Meliopoulos highlights that risks that the plaintiff in Weissmann v. Freeman, 868 F.2d 1313 (2d Cir. 1989)—who was caught in a similar situation—would have faced if she had pursued Lanham Act relief. See infra notes 263–71 and accompanying text. and even larger uses of works by authors that are not sufficiently well-known so as to meet the threshold of consumer confusion necessary to sustain a claim under section 43(a).189See Kwall, supra note 181, at 1022 (“If a plaintiff author’s work is not sufficiently well-known to trigger public recognition, it is questionable whether a plaintiff’s act of ‘reverse passing off’ will spark the necessary confusion on the part of the consuming public to support relief under section 43(a).”). In other words, the Lanham Act’s conditionality of liability on consumer confusion inherently and significantly narrows the breadth of any protection for attribution it might otherwise provide. Overruling Dastar would do nothing to address this issue. 

Meanwhile, although restoration of attribution-related reverse passing off claims for works still under copyright protection might address the Supreme Court’s concern about the potential private recapture of public domain works, it would not address another problem that undergirded the rationale of Dastar: the catch-22 of crediting. As the Dastar Court pointed out, attribution rights can mire users of copyrighted works in a damned if you do, damned if you don’t scenario. On one hand, if they do not provide credit, they might face claims for failure to attribute. On the other hand, if they do attribute, they might face accusations of a type of passing off—effectively engaging in a form unwanted attribution that the attribute regards as connoting sponsorship, endorsement, or affiliation with their product. This, in turn, can produce liability under the Lanham Act.190But see Hughes, supra note 84, at 684 (arguing that the use of carefully crafted and factually true attribution that expressly disclaimed sponsorship could eliminate the problem of claims of improper affiliation, meaning that “the ‘damned-if-you-do’ side is not as potent as the Court makes out”).

Meanwhile, though the anticompetitive implications of reverse passing off claims related to attribution are most pressing when a work is otherwise in the public domain, the ability of such a cause of action to stifle legitimate uses of works under copyright protection also bears consideration. Specifically, the Supreme Court’s anxieties about a mutant form of copyright law apply more broadly than the re-copyrighting of works that have fallen into the public domain; they apply with equal force to how a crediting regime could entangle and ensnare all sorts of unwitting users of copyrighted works, including properly licensed ones, for failure to make proper crediting. Attribution requirements can be onerous, particularly if we return to the pre-Dastar state of affairs under the Lanham Act, where it was unclear just how much crediting might be required to avert potential reverse passing off claims. Indeed, in the unanimous Dastar opinion, Justice Scalia cited the “serious practical problems” that would result from an attribution requirement without carefully circumscribed limits.191Dastar Corp. v. Twentieth Century Fox Film Corp., 539 U.S. 23, 35 (2003). After detailing the exhaustive list of potential credits that Dastar would have had to give192Id. if the Court had found that the Lanham Act’s reference to “origin” required attributions to all of the originators of “the ideas or communications that ‘goods’ embody or contain,”193Id. at 32. Scalia quipped that it made no sense to interpret the Lanham Act as requiring a search “for the source of the Nile and all its tributaries.”194Id. at 36.

A restoration of the pre-Dastar state of the law for works still in copyright could adversely impact the rights of legitimate users of copyrighted works and enable a similar type of result as Fox sought to achieve in pursuing its claims in Dastar. An example illustrates this point. If a producer-rightsholder grants a distributor rights to its work and then the distributor properly sublicenses those rights to an exhibitor, there is no issue of copyright infringement and, under our current regime, the exhibitor would feel secure in exploiting the work. But if attribution-related reverse passing off claims are restored under the Lanham Act, all manner of mischief could result in undermining the exhibitor’s properly granted exploitation rights if a purported “source” does not receive the attribution they believe they deserve in conjunction with the exploitation. The broad scope of who or what might constitute a “source”—as illustrated by Dastar’s infamous passage about the “Nile and all its tributaries”—makes this clear. 

Thus, it may be with good reason that the period of time during which courts recognized an attribution-related claim for “reverse passing off” was relatively short. Although there were occasional outlier decisions in the distant past, “[w]idespread acceptance of [such] a cause of action began around 1980”195Cross, supra note 74, at 717.—meaning that creators enjoyed access to such a claim for less than a quarter century and questions about the practice abounded during that era. Several theorists, for example, argued that use of the Lanham Act in this (admittedly sympathetic) context stood on shaky, if not wholly unjustifiable, legal grounds. Although he acknowledged that the right of attribution was “a commercially valuable right,”196Randolph Stuart Sergent, Building Reputational Capital: The Right of Attribution Under Section 43 of the Lanham Act, 19 Colum.-VLA J.L. & Arts 45, 82 (1995). Randolph Stuart Sergent asserted that such a claim failed to serve the Lanham Act’s purported goals and was inappropriate under section 43(a).197Id. at 68–77 (detailing Sergent’s objections to the use of a reverse passing off claim under section 43(a) to vindicate crediting rights for authors). In presciently anticipating Dastar, he bemoaned the power of Montoro-like claims to serve as “a tool for controlling the sale of the underlying product [in a manner that would] reduc[e] marketplace competition . . . to the immediate detriment of consumers.”198Id. at 82. Meanwhile, John Cross argued that, although “[a]llowing [a] plaintiff to recover for reverse passing off certainly ‘feels’ right,”199Cross, supra note 74, at 751. it is worth noting that “vague feelings of impropriety . . . are not enough to justify a cause of action.”200Id. at 752. In his analysis, imposing liability under the Lanham Act for reverse passing off failed “to prevent or cure any meaningful consumer deception” and undermined the delicate balance between encouraging innovation and promoting competition by allowing original sources to monopolize works that are either ceded to or eventually fall into the public domain by operation of copyright and patent law.201Id. at 759. These concerns remain for any effort to overturn Dastar.

In short, even before Dastar, the Lanham Act simply did not provide consistent protection for authorial crediting. As such, simply reforming Dastar does not really get us a proper fix for vindicating attribution rights. Although there is much to criticize about Dastar—the void it has created in the law of crediting and its shaky factual premise—there are also compelling reasons to leave the primary holding of Dastar undisturbed and to eschew reliance on the Lanham Act as a means to vindicate attribution rights. Indeed, if Dastar achieved any good, perhaps it was in taking the issue of authorial attribution out of the scope of the Lanham Act, where it represented a square peg being forced into the proverbial round hole.

C.  The Challenges with Creating an Independent Attribution Claim Under the Copyright Act

Other scholars have considered whether it might make sense to amend the Copyright Act to provide for a general attribution right.202See, e.g., Roberta Rosenthal Kwall, Inspiration and Innovation: The Intrinsic Dimension of the Artistic Soul, 81 Notre Dame L. Rev. 1945, 2004 (2006); Jeanne C. Fromer, Expressive Incentives in Intellectual Property, 98 Va. L. Rev. 1745, 1798 (2012). Jane Ginsburg, for one, has advanced such a proposal.203Ginsburg, Right to Claim Authorship, supra note 89. While the idea certainly has a great deal of merit, it also suffers from some significant shortcomings. On the positive side, Ginsburg’s proposal seeks to resolve this surprising lacuna in American intellectual property jurisprudence by finally granting creators a general right of attribution. Meanwhile, Ginsburg advocates the duration of the attribution right to match the copyright term—thereby averting instances of attribution liability for the use of public domain works. For reasons that we have also advocated,204See supra Section III.B. she also recognizes the importance of taking attribution rights outside of the Lanham Act given that attribution should be recognized regardless of proof of economic harm or consumer confusion.205See Ginsburg, Right to Claim Authorship, supra note 89, at 302. She also attempts to address potential issues regarding the unwieldy and uncertain scope of attribution obligations pre-Dastar by limiting the affirmative right of attribution to just legal authors and performers.206Id. at 301–02.

But Ginsburg’s proposal has some significant difficulties. While legal authorship is often singular, performers can number into the thousands. Thus, the inclusion of performers in the attribution requirement could create the specter of liability for the unwitting.207She defines this obligation as encompassing the names of people in “musical, dramatic, choreographic or audiovisual performances.” Id. at 301. More broadly, crediting of authors is not always practicable. Although Ginsburg addresses this concern by suggesting that the statute would be subject to a standard that incorporates a “reasonableness criterion,”208Id. at 299. such ambiguity is arguably the last thing that copyright law needs. After all, copyright users already have the remarkable illegibility of the fair use analysis with which to contend. Adding an additional crediting requirement that has no restraint other than “reasonableness” adds just another unfortunate layer to the copyright thicket of licensing and clearance requirements that already stifle creative activity.

Indeed, the very example that Ginsburg uses to tout the salutary and nimble nature of an attribution requirement grounded in the ambiguous notion of “reasonableness” demonstrates the very dangers of such a regime. As she writes,

[A] requirement to identify all authors and performers may unreasonably encumber the radio broadcast of a song, but distributed recordings of the song might more conveniently include the listing. This may be particularly true of digital media, where a mouse click can provide information even more extensive than that available on a printed page.209Id. at 304.

Admittedly, with its relative dearth of spacing limitations, digital media makes it arguably reasonable (from a spacing point of view) to credit any number of authors and performers. But such a requirement can quickly become onerous. Consider a professor teaching a Russian history course who wants to screen excerpts from Alexander Sokurov’s acclaimed experimental drama Russian Ark, a ninety-six-minute film shot in just a single take one night at the Hermitage with a cast of more than two thousand actors and three orchestras.210Russian Ark (Seville Pictures 2002). Though such an action would likely constitute fair use, meaning the professor could engage in the use without the hassle of payment and permission and without fear of infringement liability, Ginsburg’s proposal would place the professor in jeopardy of a different kind of liability: failure to attribute.

Ginsburg’s proposal also lacks any fair use defense, a point emphasized when she explains that “the test of reasonableness in this context is not the same as for fair use. The question is not whether the use should be prevented or paid for, as it is when fair use is at issue, but whether the use, even if free, should acknowledge the user’s sources.”211Ginsburg, Right to Claim Authorship, supra note 89, at 304. While such a move is welcome from an equity point of view—for all too long, copyright law has devalued the creative contributions of performers212See John Tehranian, Sex, Drones & Videotape: Rethinking Copyright’s Authorship-Fixation Conflation in the Age of Performance, 68 Hastings L.J. 1319, 1326 (2017).—it bodes less favorably for those making use of copyrighted works. It is hard enough to prevail on a fair use claim; but now users will have to contend with a whole other issue: liability exposure under an independent and separate cause of action depending on the reasonableness of their crediting practices.

In addition, entitling creators to an affirmative right of attribution could have a surprisingly adverse impact on the functioning of intellectual property licensing markets. For example, while they acknowledge the critical importance of crediting and recognition to authors (a position backed up by their own empirical experiments), Sprigman, Buccafusco, and Burns have suggested that the indisputable value that creators place in attribution should not automatically lead to legislative enactment of an affirmative attribution right.213Sprigman et al., supra note 36, at 1426–27. As they caution, the operation of a default right of attribution, even if waivable, could result in significant inefficiencies in the licensing market. Most obviously, transaction costs would increase. But less obviously, the combined impact of the endowment and creator effects—which can cause irrational overvaluation of the intellectual property rights held by authors in their creative output—can make licensing transactions increasingly unlikely and more burdensome.

Grounded in the public interest and the efficient functioning of licensing markets, this argument warrants further examination and should give pause to any hasty enactment of attribution legislation. To understand why, an examination of the emerging literature in behavioral economics is in order. Specifically, in recent years, psychologists and economists have observed a phenomenon dubbed the “endowment effect,” wherein the subjective valuation an individual will give a particular object increases significantly when the individual possesses that object, even for a limited time.214Daniel Kahneman, Jack L. Knetsch & Richard H. Thaler, Experimental Tests of the Endowment Effect and the Coase Theorem, 98 J. Pol. Econ. 1325, 1342 (1990) (noting that the endowment effect holds that “the value that an individual assigns to [objects] appears to increase substantially as soon as that individual is given the object”); see also Russell Korobkin, The Endowment Effect and Legal Analysis, 97 Nw. U. L. Rev. 1227, 1228 (2003). As a consequence of this effect, individuals will “demand much more to give up an object than they are willing to spend to acquire it.”215Steffen Huck, Georg Kirchsteiger & Jörg Oechssler, Learning to Like What You Have— Explaining the Endowment Effect, 115 Econ. J. 689, 689 (2005). Although not without its critics,216See, e.g., Charles R. Plott & Kathryn Zeiler, Exchange Asymmetries Incorrectly Interpreted as Evidence of Endowment Effect Theory and Prospect Theory?, 97 Am. Econ. Rev. 1449, 1462–63 (2007) (arguing the endowment effect is largely a product of experiment design and vastly exaggerated). this result appears to subvert neoclassical economic theory, which assumes that an individual’s willingness to pay (“WTP”) for a good should equal the willingness to accept (“WTA”) compensation for the loss of the good. In a now-classic experiment, Kahneman, Knetsch, and Thaler found that randomly assigned buyers valued a particular mug at three dollars, on average.217Kahneman, Knetsch & Thaler, supra note 214, at 1332–34. By sharp contrast, randomly assigned owners of the very same mug required substantially more money (seven dollars, on average) to part with it.218Id. In short, the owners’ loss in divesting themselves of the mug was valued at more than twice the buyers’ gain in acquiring the exact same mug. Thus, under the endowment effect, most people appear to require a much higher price to part with a product to which they hold a legal entitlement (that is, through possession or ownership) than they would pay to purchase the very same product.

As it turns out, the endowment effect can be especially pronounced and dangerous in matters dealing with intangible property such as copyright. The tendency toward overvaluing endowed goods is amplified when measurements of value are more subjective, and the lack of fungibility for creative works can exacerbate holdout problems and make completion of licensing deals more difficult. This leads to what James Surowiecki and others have billed as the “permission problem.”219See James Surowiecki, The Permission Problem, New Yorker, Aug. 11, 2008, at 34. And the impact is not merely the stifling of creative rights of scholars, critics, satirists, and others. Since the endowment effect raises the price otherwise demanded for access to a copyrighted work, “members of society do not enjoy the increased access to art that the copyright law is designed to provide.”220A. Michael Warnecke, Note, The Art of Applying the Fair Use Doctrine: The Postmodern-Art Challenge to the Copyright Law, 13 Rev. Litig. 685, 701 (1994) (observing that an endowment effect would cause copyright holders to demand more for access to their work than would otherwise be predicted).

It is at this point that Sprigman, Buccafusco, and Burns’s findings become particularly salient. They found that that endowment effect was particularly extreme when creators engage in transactions involving their own work. This so-called “creativity effect”—what Sprigman, Buccasufsco, and Burns refer to as the “the tendency of creators of goods to assign higher value to their works not only compared to would-be purchasers of the goods, but relative also to mere owners (that is, subjects who had not created but merely been given the works, as in previous studies)”221Sprigman et al., supra note 36, at 1396.—can badly “magnify the valuation anomalies associated with the endowment effect. The creativity effect drives creators’ WTA even further away from buyers’ WTP, and in doing so it makes deals over creative goods more difficult to reach.”222Id. at 1397. The data from Sprigman, Buccafusco, and Burns’s work therefore suggests that vesting an affirmative attribution right in creators could serve as a significant impediment on the licensing market and further complicate and stifle the ability of would-be licensees to reach deals for the use of creative content—a cost that impacts consumers of copyrighted works as well as the vast number of authors who draw upon preexisting content to create transformative works.223By sharp contrast, a proposal that makes attribution a factor in the fair use analysis, rather than a vested entitlement that can support an independent cause of action, could avoid this problem while still providing strong incentives for acknowledgement and better respect for crediting. As a result, they conclude that an affirmative attribution right would ultimately not serve the public weal and could have a disruptive effect on commerce.

But, perhaps most damningly, the biggest drawback against an independent claim for attribution under the Copyright Act is not whether it would make for good law but, rather, whether it would be feasible to pass such legislation in the first place. To illustrate this point, it is worth considering a few salient points about the history of copyright law in our country. It took almost 100 years for the United States to accede to the terms of the Berne Convention of 1886, which, since 1928 and per Article 6bis, requires member states to recognize a right of attribution.224Berne Convention for the Protection of Literary and Artistic Works art. 6bis, Sept. 9, 1886, as revised at Paris on July 24, 1971 and amended in 1979, S. Treaty Doc. No. 99–27 (1986). When the United States finally acceded to Berne in 1988, the House Report on its implementation concluded that a patchwork of existing laws in the United States already provided sufficient protection for attribution to meet Berne’s minimum standards.225H.R. Rep. No. 100–609, at 34 (1988). The availability of Lanham Act relief for reverse passing off in situations of misattribution was key to this conclusion.226Id. Nevertheless, Congress passed a narrow right of attribution under VARA shortly thereafter in 1990 which, as we have discussed, does not cover the vast majority of creative works and provides only scant protection. Furthermore, since Dastar, there has been no meaningful effort to undo its holding in Congress, making the path toward a legislative fix unlikely, at best. As this timeline illustrates, the odds of congressional intervention to add a broad attribution right to the Copyright Act—particularly given how constrained the attribution claim embedded in VARA ultimately became when it was finally passed in 1990—do not seem particularly good.

D.  A Modest Proposal: Locating Attributive Use in Section 107

With this analysis in mind, we turn our attention to a modest proposal that I believe would not require legislation and, in fact, already reflects the jurisprudence on fair use: the recognition by courts of attributive use as an express subfactor in the application of the fair use defense to allegations of copyright infringement. This proposal advances the cause of attribution rights in an incremental, but significant, manner; provides flexibility for courts to adapt the concept to contexts and emerging technologies; and bolsters norms of crediting in a way that can lay the framework for future (and bolder) changes in the law.

Moreover, the proposal builds on the important work done by Pierre Leval with his article Toward a Fair Use Standard some three decades ago. Just as Leval argued that transformative use was already, and had good reason to be, playing an important role in fair use determinations, I argue the same with attributive use. In that spirit, as the title of this Article suggests, I advocate a move toward a new fair use standard. As our exegesis of the extant jurisprudence on fair use reveals, attributive use already has an implicit place in the fair use calculus. I argue that courts should lean into this reality and make attribution an explicit consideration in their factor one analysis on the purpose and character of the use. Just like transformative use, which advances the utilitarian aim of the copyright regime to promote progress (by enabling the creation of new work), attributive use serves a key role in the copyright regime by helping advance progress in the arts (by appealing to the incentivizing function of crediting). So, under this scheme, as part of their factor one analysis, future courts would consider: (1) whether a use is commercial; (2) whether a use is transformative; and (3) whether a use is attributive. In short, attributive use would take its place with commercial and transformative use as key factors in determining the purpose and character of a defendant’s unauthorized exploitation of someone’s copyrighted work.

Admittedly, leaving attribution rights to only function as an affirmative defense to infringement still leaves crediting as a tail, wagged by the infringement dog. But this solution avoids the numerous complications posed by either an affirmative attribution right in the Copyright Act or an undoing of the Dastar holding. Under such a proposal, works used with permission can continue to have exploitation governed by licensing terms that can call for proper attribution as appropriate and meaningful, thereby leaving existing crediting regimes in place and enabling further development of new ones. But for unlicensed works, an attributive use subfactor will provide significant encouragement of crediting while not requiring it in every instance and leaving some flexibility around the issue, so that courts can consider the context of a particular use to decide whether attribution is valuable, meaningful, or practicable under the circumstances.227For example, courts can show flexibility on the manner of crediting preferred for parodies since they inherently need to conjure up enough of the original anyway in order to make sense to audiences. With that in mind, 2 Live Crew wouldn’t need to label each of its albums with “based on a song by Roy Orbison.” But, in other instances, where formal crediting makes sense—such as use of thumbnails for search engine purposes—it could be weighed heavily. As a result, crediting will not become an absolute requirement, thereby addressing the significant concerns that would come from a broad attribution right. Meanwhile, for public domain works, there will be no concern about attribution because such works would not be subject to a fair use defense since their exploitation is, per se, noninfringing. As a result, the proposal averts rightful concern about erstwhile copyright holders using crediting requirements to achieve perpetual protection for works that fall into the public domain.

Moreover, to avoid making attribution overly onerous, the crediting at issue could be limited to legal authorship. As even Ginsburg admits, attribution requirements can be burdensome, potentially causing a problem that Ginsburg characterizes as the “most practical of all”: a regime that mandates “tiny print or endless film credits that no one will look at anyway.”228Ginsburg, supra note 20, at 48. The reference to tiny print that no one looks at may be too dismissive and flippant. After all, while not many people will look at the tiny print, anyone involved in a creative enterprise will know that that tiny print will be scrutinized by at least a few individuals—those who poured their hearts and souls into the work—each and every time. So while the tiny print may not mean much to the consuming public, it matters desperately to those whose names appear in that tiny print. At the same time, as detailed earlier, that tiny print is entered in databases that follow creative crediting and play a large role in developing reputations that enable decisionmakers with capital to flow resources in particular directions. See supra note 111 and accompanying text (regarding IMDb.com). To Ginsburg, criticisms about the potential burdens of crediting requirements are exaggerated. As she opines,

[D]ifficulties in determining whether a contributor at the fringes of a creative enterprise should be denominated an “author” or “co-author” should not obscure attribution claims where authorship is apparent. Moreover, where the creators are multiple, business practice may assist in identifying those entitled to authorship credit. That the resulting credits may not attract most readers’ or viewers’ attention does not warrant forgoing them altogether.229Ginsburg, supra note 20, at 48.

But there may also be a simpler refutation to these objections. Specifically, as Ginsburg herself admits, “Our caselaw has enough trouble, in the joint works context, identifying who is an author.”230Id. This is certainly true but it is also worth noting that, as a result of this difficulty, courts have shown themselves extraordinarily loathe to recognize joint authorship. Indeed, numerous doctrines, such as the strict reading of the mutual intent requirement, have emerged from courts to avert recognition of joint authorship.231See John Tehranian, Copyright’s Male Gaze: Authorship and Inequality in a Panoptic World, 41 Harv. J.L. & Gender 343, 375 (2018). So, on a practical level, the problem of endless attribution seems quite solvable by considering crediting not of all creative contributors, but of the legal authors—a designation that courts have gone out of their way to make singular and, consequently, quite knowable (despite the many flaws in the way courts define legal authorship). In other words, given that courts already carefully circumscribe the notion of legal authorship in order to avoid the messiness of joint authorship and the accompanying headache it may cause in the fracturing of rights, attribution rights that are limited to recognition of legalauthorship are not quite as complex as objectors may suggest.

All told, this solution draws and expands upon, with some important alterations, a proposal once presented briefly by the late Greg Lastowka at the end of his article considering the (morbid) state of attribution rights post-Dastar.232Lastowka, supra note 46, at 84–85. After bemoaning the extant law’s lack of protection for crediting, Lastowka proposed a corrective step: congressional amendment of section 107 to incorporate attribution as an explicit fifth factor in the fair use analysis.233Id. at 44, 84–89 (“I propose that the ‘fair use’ provisions in 17 U.S.C. § 107 be amended to include a fifth factor: the provision of attribution.”). I tweak Lastowka’s proposal for two reasons. First, the addition of an express fifth factor would require legislative amendment, making change less likely (as I have documented with the difficulty in passing any affirmative attribution right in the Copyright Act). Indeed, as the influence of Leval’s 1990 article has suggested, change through the common law is both swifter and more likely. Leval, of course, achieved a dramatic change in the way courts have approached the fair use analysis in the past three decades by emphasizing the importance of a factor that had received scant explicit consideration before: transformation. Secondly, analytically speaking, I argue that attribution already resides in the existing four factors without the need to add a fifth. Most significantly, as I shall detail, courts have both explicitly and implicitly considered attribution in the fair use calculus in the past, often as part of assessing the purpose and character of the use (factor one). Building on the occasional, but unpredictable, judicial solicitude to attribution as a part of the fair use balancing test, I argue that, normatively, such a move makes a great deal of sense.

1.  Attributive Use and the Existing Fair Use Calculus

As Lastowka argued, courts have occasionally drawn on attribution as a factor in the fair use calculus. But, as he cautioned, 

[w]hat these cases demonstrate is not that attribution is regularly considered by courts as a factor in the fair use analysis. This is most certainly not the case. The cases merely illustrate that in certain cases, plaintiffs and defendants have been successful in persuading courts to incorporate evidence about attribution into a fair use analysis.234Id. at 88.

Lastowka may have understated matters, however. Indeed, a careful exegesis of the relevant jurisprudence—including noted decisions from the two circuits (the Second and the Ninth) that most prominently opine on copyright law, as well as consideration of the broad attributive practices in clearance norms—strongly suggests that attribution is already a guiding factor in the fair use calculus and, either explicitly or implicitly, is playing a (rightful) role in fair use determinations. As such, the proposal advanced here calls for overt recognition of attribution as a key subfactor in how courts weigh the purpose and character of a use. 

The fair use doctrine finds its origins in Justice Joseph Story’s influential 1841 opinion in Folsom v. Marsh.235See Folsom v. Marsh, 9 F. Cas. 342, 348–49 (C.C.D. Mass. 1841). Eventually codified in section 107 of the 1976 Copyright Act, fair use typically involves the weighing of a four-part balancing test to determine whether an unauthorized use of a copyrighted work is excused from infringement liability. These factors include:

(1) the purpose and character of the use, including whether such use is of a commercial nature . . . ; (2) the nature of the copyrighted work; (3) the amount and substantiality of the portion used in relation to the copyrighted work as a whole; and (4) the effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work.23617 U.S.C. § 107.

However, with its use of open-ended language, the text of section 107 suggests that the four listed factors are not exhaustive of the considerations a court may undertake.237See id. (implying that the fair use analysis is not limited to the four enumerated factors by stating that “[i]n determining whether the use made of a work in any particular case is a fair use the factors to be considered shall include [the aforementioned factors]” (emphasis added)). As a result, courts have always had the freedom to introduce other relevant factors to their fair use analysis. Indeed, some have accepted the invitation, including many that have made attribution and crediting practices a consideration.

2.  The Role of Attribution in the First, Fourth, and “Fifth” Fair Use Factors

In Haberman v. Hustler Magazine, Inc., for example, a Massachusetts district court drew on “equitable considerations” as a fifth factor and found that the defendant’s attribution practices supported a fair use defense against infringement claims for unauthorized reproduction of two fine art photographs in a magazine.238Haberman v. Hustler Mag., Inc., 626 F. Supp. 201, 214 (D. Mass. 1986). Specifically, the defendant’s fair use claim was substantially aided by the fact that it made “no effort . . . to palm [the photos] off as anything other than [the photographer’s] creations.”239Id. Thus, in some cases, attribution can and has become a part of the fair use calculus through an unofficial “fifth factor.”

That said, courts do not necessarily have to resort to the introduction of a fifth factor to make room for crediting. In fact, numerous decisions have integrated attributive use into their analysis of the existing four factors.240The Haberman court did so as well. Drawing on Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. v. Nation Enterprises’ guidance, the court raised the issue of attribution in its consideration of the first factor, observing that “relevant to the ‘character’ of the use is ‘the propriety of the defendant’s conduct.’ ” Id. at 211 (citing Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. v. Nation Enters., 471 U.S. 539, 562 (1985)). Since Hustler had provided credit on the two photographs it had reproduced, this factor weighed in favor of fair use. Id. at 211 (“Hustler credited Haberman with the copyright of the reproduced works and informed readers of how they could buy them from him. Thus, there was no attempt to palm off Haberman’s work as its own.”). This body of case law suggests that attribution already has a place (and voice) in the existing four fair use factors—particularly the first (“purchase and character of the use”) and fourth (“market harm”).

Melville and David Nimmer, for example, have argued that attribution can and should be a proper consideration in the first factor,2414 Melville B. Nimmer & David Nimmer, Nimmer on Copyright § 13.05 [A][1][d] (2022). as it speaks to nature and character of the use being made by a defendant. Numerous courts have subscribed to this view, whose application is illustrated in Williamson v. Pearson Education, Inc.242See generally Williamson v. Pearson Educ., Inc., No. 00 Civ. 8240, 2001 U.S. Dist. Lexis 17062 (S.D.N.Y. Oct. 19, 2001). In the suit, Pearson Education offered up a fair use defense to infringement claims stemming from its publication of a book featuring unauthorized quotation of a number of passages from a prior work on General Patton’s leadership principles. Drawing on Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. v. Nation Enterprises’s instruction to consider the “propriety of the defendant’s conduct” as part of the nature and character of a defendant’s use of a copyrighted work, the Court found that the first fair use factor favored defendants because, among other things, they were “not attempting to pass [the] fact-gathering off as their own. Rather they are crediting [the plaintiff] as the source of the factual information that defendants use to construct some of the arguments in their book.”243Id. at *1728 Similarly, in Rubin v. Brooks/Cole Publishing Co., a court identified the propriety of the defendant’s conduct as one of three subfactors under the “purpose and character of the use” consideration and found this factor favored the defendant since the defendant had “credited [the plaintiff] clearly and favorably in the text.”244Rubin v. Brooks/Cole Publ’g Co., 836 F. Supp. 909, 919 (D. Mass. 1993). In another infringement case—one involving unauthorized use of a portion of a report about a hydropower facility—a federal court deemed that the defendants’ acknowledgement of the source of the original work helped the first fair use factor “weigh[] heavily in favor of a finding of fair use.”245See Lathan v. City of Whittier Alaska, No. 3:10-cv-00070-TMB, 2011 U.S. Dist. Lexis 159477, at *34 (D. Alaska Aug. 4, 2011).

It is not just the first factor that makes room for attribution. While “good faith” is the most common doctrinal vehicle through which crediting finds a voice in the first factor, economic factors form the doctrinal vehicle through which crediting finds a voice in the fourth factor. Meanwhile, the market harm factor also leaves room for consideration of attribution. Specifically, as Rebecca Tushnet has argued in the context of fan fiction, giving attribution attenuates the possibility of market harm.246Rebecca Tushnet, Legal Fictions: Copyright, Fan Fiction, and a New Common Law, 17 Loy. L.A. Ent. L.J. 651, 680 (1997). As she reasons, “Correct attribution helps prevent confusion and preserves the market for the official product and bears an indirect relation to the fourth fair use factor.”247Id. Tushnet’s view is not merely aspirational; it is also already reflected in some cases. In Richard Feiner & Co. v. H.R. Industries, Inc., for instance, a New York federal district court declined to grant a fair use defense to The Hollywood Reporter/HRI for its unauthorized use of a photograph of Laurel and Hardy in a feature spread on special effects and stunts.248Feiner & Co. v. H.R. Indus., Inc., 10 F. Supp. 2d 310, 315–16 (S.D.N.Y. 1998), vacated on other grounds, 182 F.3d 901 (2d Cir. 1999). The failure to attribute the photograph to its author played an important role in the court’s calculus. “HRI’s use of the photograph without attribution to Feiner represents to the world that the photograph is in public domain,” the court concluded, “thus potentially impairing Feiner’s future revenue both in income and in the costs of protecting its rights.”249Id. at 315. Based on this logic, the court found significant market harm in HRI’s actions and found the fourth fair use factor militated against the defendant. Indeed, the Feiner case stands in contrast to Nuñez v. Caribbean International News Corp., in which a different member of the media—a Puerto Rican newspaper named El Vocero—also published an article making unauthorized use of a photograph—an image from the modeling portfolio of the former Miss Puerto Rico Universe 1997.250Nuñez v. Caribbean Intern. News Corp., 235 F.3d 18, 21 (1st Cir. 2000). In Nuñez, crediting played a role in the fair use analysis under both factors one and four. On the first factor, the court considered good faith, which favored El Vocero since it had “attributed the photographs to Núñez.”251Id. at 23. On the fourth factor, the court pointed to the fact that “the only discernible effect of the publication in El Vocero was to increase demand for the photograph”252Id. at 25.—a consequence doubtlessly buttressed by the credit that El Vocero provided to Nuñez, which enabled future licensees to know whom to approach for permissions to use the image. 

3.  Harper & Row’s Good Faith Admonition

With all of this said, it is important to acknowledge that the consideration of “good faith,” which courts have often used to raise attributive concerns, has come under fire in recent years. On the surface, this might suggest increasing judicial resistance to the factoring of crediting in the fair use calculus. But a closer examination of this trend says otherwise. 

The clearest expression of the invitation to consider good faith in fair use determinations (and the basis upon which some courts have invoked attribution) came in Harper & Row, in which the Supreme Court dictated, in seemingly absolutist terms, that “fair use presupposes ‘good faith.’ ”253Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc v. Nation Enters., 471 U.S. 539, 562 (1985) (citations omitted). Despite the blusterous verbiage, the exhortation remained inchoate, as the case gave little guidance as to just constituted “good faith.” In that particular instance, the Court was referring to how The Nation’s knowing exploitation of a purloined manuscript that remained unpublished demonstrated bad faith because the magazine had usurped the copyright holder’s valuable commercial rights of first publication. The Court then grafted this assessment of propriety to its consideration of the first, second and fourth fair use factors in finding that The Nation’s actions had no refuge in the defense.254Id. at 562, 564 (“The Nation’s [unauthorized] use [of the unpublished manuscript] had not merely the incidental effect but the intended purpose of supplanting the copyright holder’s commercially valuable right of first publication. . . . and infringe[d] the copyright holder’s interests in confidentiality and creative control [over the first public appearance of the work].”). Notably, the matter of attribution (as a form of good faith or otherwise) had nothing whatsoever to do with that case. 

In the intervening years, the Supreme Court has walked back on Harper & Row’s language about good faith. In both of its two most recent fair use pronouncements—Campbell in 1994 and Oracle in 2021—the Court has expressly downplayed the consideration. In Campbell, the Supreme Court acknowledged a split in persuasive authorities as to whether fair use must necessarily presuppose good faith.255Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, Inc., 510 U.S. 569, 585 n.18 (1994) (comparing Harper & Row’s bold appraisal that fair use presupposes good faith with views from both Folsom v. Marsh and Leval’s Toward a Fair Use Standard that good faith should be irrelevant to the fair use analysis). In Oracle’s dicta, the Court cited to Leval’s work to express its skepticism as to whether good faith should ever be a factor in fair use determinations.256See Google LLC v. Oracle Am., Inc., 141 S. Ct. 1183, 1204 (2021) (“As for bad faith, our decision in Campbell expressed some skepticism about whether bad faith has any role in a fair use analysis. [Campbell,] 510 U. S. at 585, n. 18, 114 S. Ct. 1164. We find this skepticism justifiable, as ‘[c]opyright is not a privilege reserved for the well-behaved.’ ”) (citing Leval, supra note 1, at 1126).Ultimately, however, the Oracle Court eschewed taking a definitive position on the issue, leaving the weight (if any) given to good faith squarely to lower courts to determine. As the Court mused, “We have no occasion here to say whether good faith is as a general matter a helpful inquiry.”257Id. Nevertheless, it would not be stretch for lower courts to view the commentary in Campbell and Oracle as dampening enthusiasm for further use of a general good faith consideration in the fair use calculus.

The evolving concern about consideration of “good faith” as dictated in Harper & Row is compelling—at least in the manner in which the Harper & Row, Campbell, and Oracle Courts used the term, where they considered if an alleged infringer had engaged in related wrongdoing, such as exploiting a purloined manuscript or proceeding with making use of a work despite being denied permission.258See Campbell, 510 U.S. at 585 n.18 (asking whether a “request for permission to use the original should be weighed against a finding of fair use”); see also Time, Inc. v. Bernard Geis Assocs., 293 F. Supp. 130, 146 (S.D.N.Y. 1968) (finding that an author copying and including images from the plaintiff’s film after he was denied permission to use them in his book constituted bad faith that weighed against fair use but that the other factors ultimately weighed in favor of a finding of fair use). After all, if someone asks for, and is denied, permission but proceeds with a use anyway, it is worth considering whether that demonstrates good faith or bad faith, or does not necessarily suggest anything at all. As Elina Lae points out, courts have gone both ways on this issue259See Elina Lae, Mashups—A Protected Form of Appropriation Art or Blatant Copyright Infringement?, 12 Va. Sports & Ent. L.J. 31, 51 (2012). —a fact that speaks to the unworkability of the factor.260Compare Grand Upright Music Ltd. v. Warner Brothers Recs., Inc., 780 F. Supp. 182, 184–85 (S.D.N.Y. 1991) (holding that attempt to obtain license signaled defendant’s bad faith and knowledge that use without a license would constitute infringement), with Fisher v. Dees, 794 F.2d 432, 437 (9th Cir. 1986) (declining to consider defendant’s prior attempt to obtain a license as a factor against him). Or if a defendant genuinely believes that their actions constitute fair use and does not ask for permission, it is hard to understand why that factor should be held against them in the very determination of whether something is fair use.261Cariou v. Prince, 784 F. Supp. 2d 337, 351 (S.D.N.Y. 2011), rev’d in part, vacated in part, 714 F.3d 694 (2d Cir. 2013) (finding that a defendant’s failure to request a license from the photographer even though he was known and clearly identified as the owner of the copyrights thereto was “evident” bad faith). The Second Circuit’s reversal of the finding of fair use made no comment on this particular part of the lower court’s ruling. And although there is much to criticize in the district court’s approach to bad faith, for further discussion of the Second Circuit’s ultimate decisions and critiques of its rationale, see John Tehranian, Dangerous Undertakings: Sacred Texts and Copyright’s Myth of Aesthetic Neutrality, in The SAGE Handbook of Intellectual Property 418 (Matthew David & Debora Halbert eds. 2015). Indeed, while conceding the potential the utility of a good faith consideration in the fair use calculus,262Fisher, 794 F.2d at 436–37 (“Because ‘fair use presupposes “good faith” and “fair dealing,”’ courts may weigh ‘the propriety of the defendant’s conduct’ in the equitable balance of a fair use determination.” (citations omitted)). the Ninth Circuit long ago pointed out that “to consider [a defendant] blameworthy because he asked permission [and went ahead with the use after not receiving it] would penalize him for this modest show of consideration. Even though such gestures are predictably futile, we refuse to discourage them.”263Id. at 437.

More pointedly, reading the Copyright Act holistically, the introduction of considerations of propriety into the fair use calculus would appear unbalanced, particularly when one acknowledges that courts do not typically weigh such factors in determining putative rightsholders’ entitlement to copyright protection. As Leval has forcefully argued, 

Copyright seeks to maximize the creation and publication of socially useful material. Copyright is not a privilege reserved for the well-behaved. Copyright protection is not withheld from authors who lie, cheat, or steal to obtain their information. If they have stolen information, they may be prosecuted or sued civilly, but this has no bearing on the applicability of the copyright. Copyright is not a reward for goodness but a protection for the profits of activity that is useful to the public education. The same considerations govern fair use.264Leval, supra note 1, at 1126.

In the end, therefore, when viewing fair use as an integral part of the utilitarian goal of our copyright regime, the ultimate focus on progress in the arts would appear to preclude consideration of the subjective mental state of a defendant or a defendant’s general intentions. 

But, quite critically for our purposes, the discussion about good faith in Harper & Row, Campbell, and Oracle has never once touched on the issue of attribution. And although both Campbell and Oracle cited to Leval’s admonition to decouple fair use from good behavior,265See Google LLC v. Oracle Am., Inc., 141 S. Ct. 1183, 1204 (2021); Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, Inc., 510 U.S. 569, 585 n.18. (1994). his entreaty also had nothing to with attributive practices. Indeed, as Leval reasons, fair use should be focused on progress in the arts. As we have detailed, that is precisely the reason why attribution should be considered, while other good faith factors, such as a defendant’s state of mind or general intentions, should not. Thus, despite the concern about good faith expressed in Campbell and Oracle and by Leval, these contemplations do not speak to the issue of crediting. And, if anything, the case law’s continued emphasis on promoting a vision of fair use dominated by the utilitarian goals of the copyright regime favors the consideration of attribution (though perhaps not general good faith) in the fair use calculus.

4.  The Existing Role of Attribution in Second and Ninth Circuit Jurisprudence

All the while, attribution has and continues to play a role in the existing body of fair use jurisprudence in the influential Second and Ninth Circuits—from which the plurality, if not majority, of copyright caselaw stems.266Barton Beebe, An Empirical Study of U.S. Copyright Fair Use Opinions, 1978–2005, 156 U. Pa. L. Rev. 549, 566–68 (2008) (describing the Second and Ninth Circuits as the most influential circuits in the development of copyright’s fair use doctrine). While these decisions that explicitly invoke attribution do not take the next step of formally mandating a role for crediting in the enumerated factors, when read together they suggest that such a role—much like the transformative use element identified by Leval in Toward a Fair Use Standard—would be consistent with the existing fair use rubric. Indeed, if district courts in these circuits hewed more closely to this extant jurisprudence, attribution would enjoy more overt recognition as a fair use factor. 

The precedent of the Second Circuit is replete with cases where attribution has played a key, if not decisive, role in the fair use calculus. Weissmann v. Freeman267Weissmann v. Freeman, 868 F.2d 1313 (2d Cir. 1989).  is a particularly instructive case because it stemmed from an academic dispute where credits and notoriety, rather than significant profits, were at stake.268At best, one could argue that the $250 honorarium that Freeman had received for the review course might have constituted tangible profits. As the Second Circuit concluded, however, there was an “absence of a dollars and cents profit.” Id. at 1324. In the suit, a professor at the Albert Einstein School of Medicine, Heidi S. Weissmann, took legal action against her colleague and erstwhile collaborator, Leonard Freeman, for copyright infringement, claiming that Freeman had unlawfully reproduced fifty copies of one of her articles for use in a special review course he was giving at the Mount Sinai School of Medicine. Ordinarily, such a relatively de minimis and educational use of a work would not give rise to infringement litigation. But one key fact made this case atypical: Freeman had deleted Weissmann’s name from the paper and, after adding three additional words to the title, put his own name on it.269Id. at 1316. Although Weissmann might have pursued a claim for reverse passing off (albeit with some potential hurdles270See supra note 174 and accompanying text. ), she focused on a copyright infringement claim.271Weissmann, 868 F.2d at 1316. Though the lower court had held Freeman’s use was a fair one, the Second Circuit reversed. 

Despite claims that Freeman’s use was noncommercial and for academic purposes, his failure to credit Weissmann (and his substitution of his own name as the author) proved outcome determinative in the Second Circuit, and the court cited the crediting issue in its analysis on the first, second, and fourth fair use factors. On the first factor, the court determined that, in wresting credit from Weissmann, Freeman’s motivations were commercial in nature as he profited from the use, which enhanced his professional reputation. As the court noted, “Particularly in an academic setting, profit is ill-measured in dollars. Instead, what is valuable is recognition because it so often influences professional advancement and academic tenure.”272Id. at 1324. On the second factor, the court noted the importance of weighing the incentives for continued creation of scholarly work and thereby linked attribution and progress in the arts. As it reasoned, crediting provided the likes of Weissmann “with an incentive to continue research—an endeavor that, if successful, would and has led to professional and monetary benefits [and that courts] need to uphold those incentives necessary to the creation of works such as [the article].”273Id. at 1325. Finally, on the fourth factor, the court saw clear market harm because “[i]n scholarly circles such as, for example, the small community of nuclear medicine specialists involved in this suit, recognition of one’s scientific achievements is a vital part of one’s professional life.”274Id. at 1326. As the court added,

The fact that Dr. Freeman’s planned use of [the article] was for the same intrinsic purpose as that intended by Dr. Weissmann not only undermines Dr. Weissmann’s ability to enjoy the fruits of her labor, but also creates a distinct disincentive for her to continue to research and publish in the field of nuclear medicine.

Id. In short, the issue of crediting permeated the entire fair use analysis in Weissmann. In the end, the court also emphasized that “[n]o case was cited—and [they] found none—that sustained [a fair use] defense under circumstances where copying involved total deletion of the original author’s name and substitution of the copier’s.”275Id. at 1324. This observation alone suggests the implicit role of attribution (and the disfavor with which misattribution is viewed) in the extant fair use jurisprudence.

Rogers v. Koons,276Rogers v. Koons, 960 F.2d 301 (2d Cir. 1992). one of the most well-known copyright decisions from the Second Circuit, also emphasizes the role of attribution in fair use determinations. The Rogers controversy started when prominent modern artist Jeff Koons found inspiration in a cheap tourist postcard featuring Art Rogers’s Puppies, a photograph of a couple and their dogs posing in Rockwellian tranquility.277Rogers v. Koons, 751 F. Supp. 474, 475–76 (S.D.N.Y. 1990). Koons appropriated the depiction without Rogers’s permission and accentuated various elements to create a sculptural work, String of Puppies, that satirized suburban American aesthetic sensibilities.278See id. at 476, 479. As Koons’s attorney, Martin Garbus, explained, Koons

saw sentimentality, inanity and kitsch. When he blew up the image to larger than life size, stuck daisies in the hair of the sickly sweet smiling couple (the flowers were not in the photograph) and painted the finished ceramic, the sculpture acquired a horrific quality quite distinct from the original.

Martin Garbus, Book Review, Lolita and the Lawyers, N.Y. Times, Sept. 26, 1999 (§ 7), at 35. Rogers, unamused by Koons actions, sued for copyright infringement and Koons claimed fair use. The district court rejected Koons’s defense, holding that, among other things, his activities were not sufficiently transformative because they did not criticize or comment upon Rogers’s original photograph.279See Rogers, 751 F. Supp. at 479. On appeal, the Second Circuit affirmed, noting that, “though the satire need not be only of the copied work and may . . . also be a parody of modern society, the copied work must be, at least in part, an object of the parody, otherwise there would be no need to conjure up the original work.”280Rogers, 960 F.2d at 310. Because Koons purportedly did not “need” the original work to make his expressive point, there could be no fair use.281See id. The result of the case was a debacle for Koons. In addition to damages, he was ordered to pay the plaintiff’s attorneys’ fees.282Id. at 313.

To critics of the decision—which came down before Campbell, the trumpeting of Leval’s Toward a Fair Use Standard, and its advocacy for the primacy of an expansive notion of transformative use283See Leval, supra note 1, at 1111 (suggesting that transformative use includes “parody, symbolism, aesthetic declarations, and innumerable other uses”).—the court gave short shrift to the transformative use that Koons had arguably made of Rogers’s original work.284See Mark Bartholomew & John Tehranian, An Intersystemic View of Intellectual Property and Free Speech, 81 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. 1, 16–17 (2013). Indeed, one could argue that the Second Circuit implicitly reversed itself in its next case involving Jeff Koons and appropriationist art, in which it reached an exact opposite conclusion.285In Blanch v. Koons, the plaintiff owned the copyright to a photograph entitled Silk Sandals by Gucci—a commercial work used in advertising. Blanch v. Koons, 396 F. Supp. 2d 476, 478 (S.D.N.Y. 2005). Koons usurped the image, reproducing a portion of it for his painting Niagara, which had been commissioned by Deutsche Bank. Id. at 479. This time, however, the court found that the fair use doctrine protected Koons’s activities as a form of transformative appropriation, id. at 480–82, a decision affirmed by the Second Circuit, Blanch v. Koons, 467 F.3d 244, 259 (2d Cir. 2006). In the latter decision, the Second Circuit cited to, and quoted extensively from, both Campbell and Leval’s article while giving far less attention to its own prior decision in Rogers v. Koons. See id. at 250.

That said, the absence of proper crediting served as a critical factor in justifying the court’s rejection of Koons’s fair use defense. Specifically, in considering the first factor—the purpose and character of the use—the court drew on notions of attribution in two separate ways to weigh against a finding of fair use. First, employing the “good faith” criteria, the court pointed to Koons’s decision to remove a copyright notice from one of Rogers’s notecards that he sent to Italian artisans when he commissioned fabrication of his statue based on the Rogers photograph. As the court concluded, this action “suggests bad faith in defendant’s use of plaintiff’s work, and militates against a finding of fair use.”286Rogers, 960 F.2d at 309. Second, the court concluded that the failure to credit supported its finding that Koons’s work was not commenting sufficiently on the original work to qualify for the heightened protection usually given to parody. As the court argued, Koons’s use failed to make the public aware of the original work and the resulting lack of proper crediting undermined a key reason why certain types of commentary—attributive ones—get fair use protection. “If an infringement of copyrightable expression could be justified as fair use solely on the basis of the infringer’s claim to a higher or different artistic use—without insuring public awareness of the original work—there would be no practicable boundary to the fair use defense,” noted the court.287Id. at 310.

Koons’ claim that his infringement of Rogers’ work is fair use solely because he is acting within an artistic tradition of commenting upon the commonplace thus cannot be accepted. The rule’s function is to insure that credit is given where credit is due. By requiring that the copied work be an object of the parody, we merely insist that the audience be aware that underlying the parody there is an original and separate expression, attributable to a different artist. This awareness may come from the fact that the copied work is publicly known or because its existence is in some manner acknowledged by the parodist in connection with the parody.288Id. (emphasis added). This aspect of the Rogers decision gives a further nuance to the traditional distinction that courts have drawn between parodic and satirical uses of works, where the former gets far greater protection than that latter. See, e.g., Bartholomew & Tehranian, supra note 284, at 14 (detailing the parody/satire distinction in copyright’s fair use jurisprudence and its grounding in necessity, and criticizing it for advancing a conceptualization of fair use that is highly propertized, “allowing borrowing only when conditions absolutely require it and by casting fair use as a privilege rather than a right”). Courts have partly grounded the dichotomous treatment of parody and satire in necessity—for the former, a defendant must conjure up enough of the original that the audience understands what work is being mocked; for the latter, making a broader social point does not inextricably require use of the work for which permissions are lacking. See, e.g., Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, Inc., 510 U.S. 569, 580–81 (1994) (“Parody needs to mimic an original to make its point, and so has some claim to use the creation of its victim’s (or collective victims’) imagination, whereas satire can stand on its own two feet and so requires justification for the very act of borrowing.” (emphasis added)); Rogers, 960 F.2d at 310. (“It is the rule in this Circuit that though the satire need not be only of the copied work and may . . . also be a parody of modern society, the copied work must be, at least in part, an object of the parody, otherwise there would be no need to conjure up the original work.” (emphasis added)). But this language from Rogers also suggests that attribution interests play a key role as well.  

Courts within the Second Circuit continue to pick up this language from Rogers to emphasize the importance of crediting in the fair use calculus. For example, in a recent published decision, the Southern District of New York drew upon Rogers’s bad faith analysis to find this subfactor within the “purpose and character of use” weighed in favor of the plaintiff when the defendant removed the copyright mark, thereby robbing the use of attribution.289Yang v. Mic Network, Inc., 405 F. Supp. 3d 537, 546 (S.D.N.Y. 2019) (“The intentional removal of a copyright mark can ‘suggest[] bad faith in defendant’s use of plaintiff’s work, and militate[] against a finding of fair us[e].’ ” (quoting Rogers, 960 F.2d at 309)). All the while, at least one Second Circuit decision, NXIVM Corp. v. Ross Institute, has mandated that good faith be considered by any court conducting a fair use analysis.290NXIVM Corp. v. Ross Inst., 364 F.3d 471, 479 (2d Cir. 2004) (“[T]he subfactor pertaining to defendants’ good or bad faith must be weighed, and . . . it was error for the district court not to have fully and explicitly considered it.”). NXIVM did not expressly mention attribution or crediting, however, and it also cautioned that good faith is not “itself conclusive of the fair use question, or even of the first factor.” Id. (citation omitted). In some instances, this mandate has inexplicably been ignored. For example, in Cariou v. Prince, the district court had an extensive discussion of bad faith, Cariou v. Prince, 784 F. Supp. 2d 337, 351 (S.D.N.Y. 2011), but in the process of reversing the lower court’s decision to reject the defendant’s fair use decision, the Second Circuit made no consideration of good faith and provided no explanation for why it ignored this factor, Cariou v. Prince 714 F.3d 694 (2d Cir. 2013).

The Ninth Circuit has also cited the failure to provide authorial attribution as an important factor weighing against fair use. In Marcus v. Rowley, the court hewed to Harper & Row’s good faith edict in making attribution a part of the first fair use factor.291Marcus v. Rowley, 695 F.2d 1171, 1175–76 (9th Cir. 1983). Thus, the defendant’s failure to provide credit weighed against a finding of fair use.292Id. at 1176. As in Weissmann, the complete absence of any pecuniary harm and the use of the work in an academic setting did not trump the failure to credit.293Id. at 1179 (“Rowley’s [learning activity package], which was used for the same purpose as plaintiff’s booklet, was quantitatively and qualitatively a substantial copy of plaintiff’s booklet with no credit given to plaintiff. Under these circumstances, neither the fact that the defendant used the plaintiff’s booklet for nonprofit educational purposes nor the fact that plaintiff suffered no pecuniary damage as a result of Rowley’s copying supports a finding of fair use.”). Meanwhile, in Narell v. Freeman, the author of a best-selling novel, Cynthia Freeman, was caught having lifted, word-for-word, portions of her work from a previously published book by Irena Narell about the history of Jewish migration to San Francisco.294Narell v. Freeman, 872 F.2d 907, 909 (1989). Although the Ninth Circuit ultimately found that the misappropriated sections were largely factual in nature and not protectible expression, it nevertheless addressed the issue of fair use. And while it ultimately found Freeman’s actions protected by the fair use doctrine, it held that the first factor “weigh[ed] heavily against Freeman because she did not acknowledge in her work that she had consulted Our City in writing Illusions.”295Id. at 914.

The Narell court cautioned that acknowledgment would not, by itself, excuse infringement.296Id.  And that has certainly proven true in other cases. For example, when a luxury fashion designer pushed back against claims that it had infringed a photograph of a model wearing its clothing, it advanced its fair use defense by pointing out that it had credited the photographer. The court demurred, noting that 

Defendant has not pointed to any precedent supporting its theories that because Defendant credited the photographer in the caption of the Photograph or because Plaintiff hired the model to wear Defendant’s clothing, Defendant has a right to use the Photograph. Simply put, attribution is not a defense against copyright infringement.297Iatosca v. Elie Tahari, Ltd., No. 19-cv-04527, 2020 U.S. Dist. Lexis 171512, at *15 (S.D.N.Y. Sep. 18, 2020).

Even there, however, the court reaffirmed the value of attribution in the fair use calculus by citing to Narell favorably and noting that, while “acknowledgement does not itself excuse infringement,” a “finding [of] failure to properly attribute copyrighted material weighs against fair use.”298Id. (citing Narell, 872 F.2d at 914).

5.  The Implicit Role of Attribution in Transpurposive Use Cases

Beyond the case law from the Second and Ninth Circuits explicitly embracing attribution as a factor, there are instances where crediting has played an implicit role in fair use determinations. This is particularly true in a body of recent cases involving technology-related transpurposive uses excused by courts under the defense. So, for example, in Kelly v. Arriba Soft Corp., the Ninth Circuit blessed the unauthorized creation of thumbnail versions of online images to facilitate search engine functionality.299Kelly v. Arriba Soft Corp., 336 F.3d 811, 818–22 (9th Cir. 2003). This judgment was famously reaffirmed in Perfect 10, Inc. v. Amazon.com, Inc., when the Ninth Circuit found that Google’s creation of thumbnails for its search engine was also protected.300Perfect 10, Inc. v. Amazon.com, Inc., 508 F.3d 1146, 1164–68 (9th Cir. 2007).

The Kelly suit resulted from Arriba’s practice of crawling websites and indexing them by creating thumbnail versions of images that it found on those sites.301Kelly, 336 F.3d at 815–16. Arriba would then provide these thumbnails to its users, as relevant, in results on its search engine.302Id. Photographer Leslie Kelly, a chronicler of the American West in her images, objected and sued for infringement. The Ninth Circuit, however, held that Arriba’s activities constituted fair use and the attributive nature of Arriba’s use helped propel both the first and fourth factors.

On the first factor, the court placed great weight on the fact that the use of the photographs was both transformative and attributive. Unlike the original images, which were intended to inform and provide visual enjoyment, Arriba’s thumbnails served no aesthetic purpose and, instead, functioned solely as “a tool to help index and improve access to images on the internet and their related web sites.”303Id. at 818. Here, the attributive characteristics of Arriba’s thumbnails become important, as they were instrumental to the transformative functionality they embodied. As the court noted, clicking on thumbnails would produce an “Images Attributes” page that would provide a link back to the original page, which was the photographer’s home page, where sourcing information and attribution would naturally follow.304Id. at 815–     16. If the thumbnails did not produce sourcing and attribution, they would not serve a true indexing purpose and, consequently, they would not promote the locational function of search engines.305Providing a link is a common way to provide attribution in the digital environment. In fact, recognizing the crediting that links can provide, the Creative Commons updated its licenses early on in its existence to allow for links as a form of attribution. See Brown, supra note 43 (noting the addition of links as a form of attribution to Version 2.0 Creative Commons licenses to reflect the crediting function that links provide).

As for the fourth fair use factor, the court found no market harm precisely because of the link-back attribution feature: “By showing the thumbnails on its results page when users entered terms related to Kelly’s images, the search engine would guide users to Kelly’s web site rather than away from it.”306Kelly, 336 F.3d at 821. Steering users to the home webpage for the original source of the photographs would then provide them with crediting and attribution information and, if they were interested, the ability to license. Although the Kelly court never invoked the language of crediting, attribution played an implicit role in permitting its creation and use of thumbnails under the fair use doctrine.307As a counterfactual, consider what the case might look like if Arriba were merely just creating thumbnails without a purpose that could drive people back to the original, credited source of the images. If the thumbnails were created without an ability to link back to the original source (where attribution would be given), they would be neither “transpurposive”308See Mark Bartholomew & John Tehranian, An Intersystemic View of Intellectual Property and Free Speech, 81 Geo. Wash. L. Rev. 1, 26 (2013) (defining a transpurposive use as one “where an original work is set to a new purpose.”). nor without market harm.

Similarly, when evaluating whether Google’s creation of cached copies of websites and the images of them for its search engine would be excused from infringement liability, the court in Field v. Google Inc., drew on prior Ninth Circuit authority309Field v. Google Inc., 412 F. Supp. 2d 1106, 1122 (D. Nev. 2006) (“Because ‘fair use presupposes “good faith” and “fair dealing,” ’ courts may weigh the ‘propriety of the defendant’s conduct’ in the equitable balance of a fair use determination.” (citing Fisher v. Dees, 794 F.2d 432, 436–37 (9th Cir. 1986))). and the open-ended language of the Copyright Act310Id. (“The Copyright Act authorizes courts to consider other factors than the four non-exclusive factors.”). to find authority to weigh as a fifth factor in the fair use calculus “a comparison of the equities.”311Id. at 1123. Notably, the equities and good faith that mattered to the court revolved around Google’s decision to provide a link back to cached websites—a key mechanism for digital attribution.

6. Attribution and Copyright Clearance Norms

Finally, the copyright norms we hold most dear as a society also support attribution as a mitigating factor in practices that might otherwise constitute infringement. For example, although the practice of quotation literally reproduces and distributes copyrighted material without permission, notwithstanding the antics of the James Joyce Estate,312See, e.g., John Tehranian, Infringement Nation: Copyright 2.0 and You 49 (2011) (detailing the attempts of the litigious James Joyce Estate, headed by Joyce’s grandson, Stephen, to squelch any unauthorized use of Joyce’s works, including academic quotations); see also D.T. Max, The Injustice Collector, New Yorker, June 19, 2006, at 34 (quoting Stephen Joyce as telling one academic who sought to excerpt Joyce in his work, “You should consider a new career as a garbage collector in New York City, because you’ll never quote a Joyce text again”); cf. Shloss v. Sweeney, 515 F. Supp. 2d 1083, 1085–86 (N.D. Cal. 2007) (finding that a Stanford professor had a fair use right to quote James Joyce over the Estate’s objections and awarding attorneys’ fees to said professor given the manifest unreasonableness of the Estate’s position). it is universally viewed as per se fair use. Indeed, the decision that gave rise to the fair use defense in the first place, Folsom v. Marsh, announced the obviousness of this proposition when Justice Story wrote that “no one can doubt that a reviewer may fairly cite largely from the original work, if his design be really and truly to use the passages for the purposes of fair and reasonable criticism.”313Folsom v. Marsh, 9 F. Cas. 342, 344 (C.C.D. Mass. 1841).Quotation inherently involves attribution. The use of inverted commas around a sentence directly indicates that the sentence’s origins lie with a third party and not with the author of the text that one is reading. Critically, those inverted commas are then accompanied by some form of attribution. Admittedly, the attribution is part of the transformative function of quoting. After all, criticism or commentary about someone else’s work cannot occur unless that other work is identified. But the equitable nature of a quotation—giving attribution—distinguishes it from the act of taking someone else’s words without permission in the exact same way but without attribution—an act that can amount to infringement. Or, to put it in the form of a Zen-like koan:

Q: What is a quotation without quotation marks?

A: An infringement.

When using portions of someone else’s work, a key differentiator between infringement and fair use is the act of attribution.

Common beliefs about copyright law reflect our mores (even when they do not entirely match up with the law), and these popular notions have also long viewed attribution as a factor in what actions should or should not constitute infringement. As any copyright practitioner knows, popular misconceptions about fair use abound.314See, e.g., Lloyd J. Jassin, Ten Common Copyright Permission Myths, CopyLaw.com, https://www.copylaw.com/new_articles/copy_myths.html [https://perma.cc/3BAB-EGDZ] (detailing ten popular misconceptions regarding the use of copyrighted materials). Members of the public will often cite a particular bright-line threshold of use (no more than five percent of a work, for example) as providing insulation from infringement liability; they will claim that, so long as one does not profit from unauthorized exploitation of a copyrighted work, it constitutes fair use; or they will contend that any educational use automatically constitutes fair use. Of course, each of these absolute statements is wrong. But the beliefs are all based on a kernel of truth: the less one uses of a work, the less one profits from an unauthorized exploitation, and the more academic a use, the more likely it is to constitute fair use. The same dynamic is at play with another popular myth: that giving proper credit can insulate you from infringement liability for the unauthorized exploitation of someone else’s work.315Id. (noting the common misunderstanding that proper crediting can excuse an infringement under the fair use doctrine). While this notion is obviously incorrect, it is not entirely without basis. Although it may be infringing just the same, a credited use is indubitably more fair than an uncredited use, as the former better complies with societal norms against plagiarism and advances authorial interests in attribution. As such, the former is more likely (even if marginally so) than the latter to enjoy a viable fair use defense.

For example, consider a recent controversy at the intersection of intellectual property and cultural appropriation. In 2021, Addison Rae Easterling, a popular social media influencer, appeared on The Tonight Show to “teach” Jimmy Fallon eight of the most popular dances trending on TikTok and other social media sites. Although the dances can enjoy copyright protection as choreographic works,316See 17 U.S.C. § 102(a)(4) (extending the subject matter of copyright protection to “choreographic works”). the routines were not licensed from their creators, and, to make matters worse, Easterling and Fallon originally failed to give any credit at all to the originators of the dances. As Kamilah Moore, an entertainment attorney and the chairperson of the California Assembly’s Reparations Task Force, has noted, this misstep was particularly pernicious because of its racial valence: it “received major backlash” because white TikTok superstars “have often gained notoriety and received millions of views by parroting dance routines primarily created by Black creators and other creators of color” while failing to provide “proper attribution in the marketplace.”317Kamilah Moore, #BlackTikTokStrike: How TikTok Dance Creators Can Begin to Protect Their Choreographic Works, CDAS (July 21, 2021), https://cdas.com/blacktiktokstrike-how-tiktok-dance-creators-can-begin-to-protect-their-choreographic-works [https://perma.cc/3E4N-BJ6H]. Easterling and Fallon’s unauthorized recreation of the dances could well constitute fair use, but there is a vast difference between an unlicensed use that is also uncredited versus one that is at least attributive. Recognizing this and responding to public pressure, Fallon subsequently attempted to make amends by hosting the dance creators in a later broadcast of his show.318See Abid Rahman, Jimmy Fallon Interviews TikTok Dancers After Addison Rae Backlash, Hollywood Rep. (Apr. 6, 2021, 4:40 AM), https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/tv/tv-news/jimmy-fallon-interviews-tiktok-dancers-after-addison-rae-backlash-4161735 [https://perma.cc/SF6E-MV2M]. Given the importance of correcting for persistent gaps in crediting that troublingly fall along racial, gender, and socioeconomic lines as well acknowledging the economic value of proper attribution,319See, e.g., Tanya Chen, Black TikTokers Who Create Viral Dances Are Asking the
Platform’s Most Popular Teens to Properly Credit Their Work, Buzzfeed News (June 24,
2020, 2:57 PM), https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/tanyachen/black-creators-on-tiktok-demanding-proper-dance-credits [https://perma.cc/XK8Y-H3DM] (emphasizing the particular import of the issue of crediting in the Easterling/Fallon controversy “because dances are no longer a frivolous pastime on the platform, but a way to become famous and make real money”).
 a fair use regime that incorporates attribution as a factor would incentivize users of intellectual property to at least recognize the cultural influencers from whom they draw.

As this survey of the fair use landscape and extant jurisprudence has shown, acknowledged or not, crediting is already an implicit fair use factor. The only remaining question is to what degree it is or should be. That query provides rife fodder for future scholarship, as the weight accorded to attributive use, just like the other fair use factors in section 107, would be something left firmly to the discretion of judges who can consider the particular context in an adaptive and holistic manner.

CONCLUSION

The Supreme Court decided Dastar almost twenty years ago. Since that time, the sky has admittedly not fallen.320Indeed, there has been little to no effort to undo Dastar with an amendment to the Lanham Act. As such, it would be hyperbole to suggest there is some kind of pressing emergency to address the absence of attribution rights. Nevertheless, as we have detailed, the lack of substantive legal protection for crediting in the post-Dastar era has impoverished the responsiveness of our intellectual property regime to the interests and motivations of authors. With this in mind, change through legislation would face difficult odds. After all, it took almost a century for the United States to accede to the Berne Convention and, when it did, that only sparked the most minimal of efforts to comply with Berne’s attribution requirements through the relatively limited scope of VARA. The most significant legislative efforts on attribution in the past generation came through the falsification, removal, and alteration of CMI provisions passed as part of the DMCA. But even there, facilitation of infringement, rather than vindication of crediting interests, drove the statute—a fact made clearly by the claims’ onerous double-scienter requirements. As such, it would be disingenuous to fail to recognize that the prospects for legislative action for broader crediting protection are dim, at best. Moreover, there are good reasons to doubt whether the benefits of providing affirmative attribution rights either by overruling Dastar or by providing an independent cause of action for crediting under the Copyright Act would outweigh the risks. Instead, change can come in another, more incremental fashion—one that averts key dangers of an affirmative cause of action for crediting, has grounding in the existing jurisprudence, and could occur without legislation action.

A generation ago, Pierre Leval’s Toward a Fair Use Standard forced a first major change in fair use jurisprudence. I argue for a second. Like the implementation of transformative use, attributive use fits comfortably into the existing jurisprudence on fair use, speaks to the purpose and character of the use and even market harm factors, and ultimately supports the underlying purpose of the overall copyright regime: promotion of progress in the arts. Since fair use only represents a defense to infringement, such an admittedly restrained approach still tethers attribution to infringement and, as such, it does not represent a complete victory for the independent value of crediting. Nevertheless, as the success of Leval’s appeal to transformative use shows, such an entreaty for change can have an impact. Moreover, if implemented, recognition of attributive use would promote further development of a culture of crediting, a particularly important move at the dawn of the digital age, when all individuals make daily (infringing) use of copyrighted works thousands of times per day.321See, e.g., John Tehranian, Infringement Nation: Copyright Reform and the Law/Norm Gap, 2007 Utah L. Rev. 537, 543–48 (detailing the numerous unwitting infringements of copyright law that we all commit on a daily basis). Ultimately, therefore, the attributive use doctrine could not only enable fair use to operate in a way that is more consistent with the utilitarian design of our copyright regime, but it can also help build support for further recognition of attribution rights in the future.

 

96 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1

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A.B. Harvard, J.D. Yale Law School. Paul W. Wildman Chair and Professor of Law, Southwestern Law School; Visiting Professor of Law, University of California, Los Angeles (“UCLA”) School of Law.

Who’s on the Hook for Digital Piracy? Analysis of Proposed Changes to the Digital Millennium Copyright Act and Secondary Copyright Infringement Claims

FBI Anti-Piracy Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of a copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.[1]

Chances are that many Americans have seen the warning above at some point in their lives, whether they saw the words stamped on the back of a music album sleeve or displayed on a screen before viewing a film.[2] Still, despite the threat of severe liability, chances are that many of these individuals will nevertheless engage in illegal pirating activity.[3]

Prior to the rise of the internet, individuals who made illegal copies of copyright-protected works like movies and music recordings were necessarily limited by the technology available to make such copies.[4] Magnetic audio and videotape cassettes allowed individuals to record songs played on the radio or movies and television shows to create “bootleg” versions by crude processes which, by nature, hindered one’s ability to reproduce multiple copies of similar quality to the original work.[5] However, as technology progressed, the opportunities to create illegal copies of copyrighted works, specifically within the newly emerging digital landscape, expanded with ease, and digital piracy grew more and more rampant.[6] The development of compact discs (“CDs”) and MP3 compression software provided easier avenues to create impermissible copies of digital media, and access to high-speed internet coupled with the rise of peer-to-peer sharing systems streamlined opportunities for fast and simple illegal downloading.[7] Today, in the current landscape of internet ubiquity, digital piracy has become an all but inevitable obstacle that every copyright owner, be it a large established entity such as a record label or a small independent content creator, has come to anticipate.[8]

The issue of digital piracy has not gone unaddressed by Congress, as evidenced by the promulgation of the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (“DMCA”) in 1998.[9] One goal of the DMCA was to address the growing rates of digital piracy in the 1990s by providing copyright owners additional causes of action against copyright infringers, particularly infringers that impermissibly circumvented technological tools used by rights-owners to protect their works.[10] However, the drafters of the DMCA were also careful to remain consistent with the main underpinnings of copyright law, which are to maintain a balance between protecting copyright owners’ works and facilitate the constitutional charge to “promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts.”[11] Within the context of the emerging digital age, Congress applied this balance by seeking to (1) instill confidence in rightsholders that copyright protections would remain effective in a digital landscape and (2) provide assurances to new, growing online service providers (“OSPs”) that their unprecedented business models would not be decimated by imputing liability to the providers for the infringing conduct of their users.[12] Thus, Title I of the DMCA laid out “anti-circumvention provisions” that prohibit circumvention of technological measures, such as password keys and encryption codes, used to protect copyrighted works.[13] Title II of the DMCA mitigated liability for internet service providers (“ISPs”)[14] by granting “safe harbor” protections to ISPs that comply with statutory requirements—these safe harbors largely aimed to incentivize ISPs to promptly respond to reports of infringing content.[15]

Since its enactment, the DMCA has received criticism that its measures are outdated and ill-equipped to address the ongoing digital piracy problems that continue today.[16] The internet is undoubtedly a different landscape from what it was at the time the DMCA was promulgated more than two decades ago.[17] With current considerations to amend the DMCA in light of the areas of growth that were unimagined at the time the DMCA was written,[18] coupled with recent litigation seeking to hold ISPs secondarily liable for infringing conduct of their subscribers,[19] the path to reducing digital piracy is still paved with uncertainty.

Following a discussion of ongoing proposed changes to the DMCA and developing litigation concerning the potential for vicarious liability claims against ISPs, this Note will ultimately argue that the current DMCA safe harbor provisions require updated eligibility requirements for ISPs, but the availability of vicarious liability claims against “mere conduit” ISPs overreaches the scope of protection afforded to copyright owners. Part I will provide a brief history of the DMCA, including a discussion of the safe harbor provisions and the requirements therein. Part II will incorporate current discussions regarding the need for DMCA reform, address the competing policies at play, and note potential areas of reform. Part III will discuss the origins of secondary copyright infringement liability caselaw, including recent cases that have considered extending vicarious liability claims to ISPs that act as “mere conduits” to provide internet to their users. Part IV will propose clarifications in the DMCA safe harbor protection most needed in the current digital landscape while arguing that ISPs must still be properly insulated from open floodgates of liability. This Note will conclude that the DMCA should be revised to alleviate rightsholders’ burden of monitoring incidents of copyright infringement, but the DMCA should still insulate “mere conduit” ISPs from vicarious liability claims.


          [1].      FBI Anti-Piracy Warning Seal, Fed. Bureau of Investigation, https://www.fbi.
gov/investigate/white-collar-crime/piracy-ip-theft/fbi-anti-piracy-warning-seal [https://perma.cc/6HEN-PT3G].

          [2].      See id. All U.S. copyright holders are authorized by 41 C.F.R. § 128-1.5009 to use the FBI’s Anti-Piracy Warning (“APW”) Seal, the purpose of which is to deter infringement of U.S. intellectual property laws by educating the public of these laws’ existence and notifying citizens of the FBI’s authority to enforce these laws. Id.

          [3].      Maria Petrescu, John T. Gironda & Pradeep K. Korgaonkar, Online Piracy in the Context of Routine Activities and Subjective Norms, 34 J. Mktg. Mgmt. 314, 324–25 (2018). Studies have shown that although some consumers may view digital piracy as an infringement of another’s intellectual property rights, this did not impact their moral perceptions of the act of infringement. Id. Digital piracy may be regarded as a “soft crime,” as one study noted that consumers who state they would not steal a CD from a store would still consider illegally downloading the contents of the CD online, due to a lowered risk of getting caught. Id. at 325.

          [4].      Thomas J. Holt & Steven Caldwell Brown, Contextualising Digital Privacy, in Digital Piracy: A Global, Multidisciplinary Account 3, 4 (Steven Caldwell Brown & Thomas J. Holt eds., 2018).

          [5].      See id.

          [6].      See id.

          [7].      See id.

          [8].      See id. The authors note that “it is thought that millions of people engage in digital piracy every day. The true scope of piracy is, however, difficult to document as clear statistics are difficult to obtain.” Id. at 5. One report by Music Watch estimated 57 million Americans pirated digital copies of music in 2016; another report by Nera estimated the revenue loss for the global movie industry to be between $40 billion and $97.1 billion per year. Damjan Jugović Spajić, Piracy Statistics for 2021, DataProt (March 19, 2021), https://dataprot.net/statistics/piracy-statistics/ [https://perma.cc/5CMV-BH8N%5D.

          [9].      Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998, 17 U.S.C. §§ 512, 1201–02.

        [10].      See Holt & Caldwell Brown, supra note 4, at 189; Cyberlaw: Intellectual Property in the Digital Millennium § 1.02, Lexis [hereinafter Cyberlaw § 1.02] (database updated Oct. 2020).

        [11].      U.S. Const. art. I, § 8, cl. 8.

        [12].      See Bill D. Herman, The Fight Over Digital Rights: The Politics of Copyright and Technology 45, 48–49 (2013).

        [13].      Cyberlaw § 1.02, supra note 10.

        [14].      For the purposes of this Note, the term “ISP” will refer to service providers that merely provide internet access to their subscribers (for example, Charter Spectrum, AT&T, and Frontier). The term “OSP” will refer to all other online service providers that provide services such as user material hosting or system caching (for example, YouTube, Facebook, and Google).

        [15].      Cyberlaw § 1.02, supra note 10.

        [16].      See U.S. Copyright Off., Section 512 of Title 17: A Report of the Register of Copyrights 27–28 (2020) [hereinafter Report of the Register of Copyrights], https://
http://www.copyright.gov/policy/section512/section-512-full-report.pdf [https://perma.cc/R8Z9-JQME].

        [17].      See id.

        [18].      See id. at 10.

        [19].      Compare UMG Recordings, Inc. v. Bright House Networks, LLC, No. 8:19-CV-710, 2020 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 122774, at *5 (M.D. Fla. July 8, 2020) (declining to hold defendant ISP vicariously liable for user infringement because ISPs do not receive a direct financial benefit from ongoing infringement), with Warner Recs. Inc. v. Charter Commc’ns, Inc., 454 F. Supp. 3d 1069, 1079 (D. Colo. Oct. 21, 2019) (holding that defendant ISP may be vicariously liable for infringement because the ISP plausibly receives a financial benefit from infringing users “motivated” to use the ISP’s service due to the ISP’s lax approach to curbing infringement).

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Crushing Creativity: The Blurred Lines Case and Its Aftermath

From Volume 92, Postscript (February 2018)
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CRUSHING CREATIVITY: THE BLURRED LINES CASE AND ITS AFTERMATH[*]

EDWIN F. MCPHERSON[†]

On March 10, 2015, the music world was stunned when a jury in Federal District Court in Los Angeles rendered a verdict in favor of the heirs of Marvin Gaye against Pharrell Williams and Robin Thicke, who, along with rapper Clifford Harris, Jr., professionally known as “T.I.,” wrote the 2013 mega-hit song entitled “Blurred Lines.” The eight-member jury unanimously found that Williams and Thicke had infringed the copyright to Marvin Gaye’s “Got To Give It Up.”[1] On appeal, the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals affirmed the verdict and recently rejected Williams and Thicke’s Petition for Rehearing en banc.

The case is significant for a number of reasons. In typical music copyright casesat least successful onesthe two works share the same (or at least a similar) sequence of pitches, with the same (or at least similar) rhythms, set to the same chords. The Blurred Lines Case [DB1]was unique, in that the two works at issue did not have similar melodies; the two songs did not even share a single melodic phrase. In fact, the two works did not have a sequence of even two chords played in the same order, for the same duration. They had entirely different song structures (meaning how and where the verse, chorus, etc. are placed in the song) and did not share any lyrics whatsoever.

The verdict in this caseassuming (perhaps naively) that it was based upon the music at all,[2] and not, for example, the jury’s dislike for Robin Thicke and his admitted drug usewas no doubt based upon a perception that the overall “feel” or “groove” of the two works is similar, as songs of a particular genre often are. In essence, Williams and Thicke have been found liable for the infringement of an idea, or a series of ideas, and not for the tangible expression of those ideas, which is antithetical to Section 102(b) of the Copyright Act.[3] Such a result is very dangerous to the music community and is certain to stifle future creativity.

All music shares inspiration from prior musical works, especially within a particular musical genre. The import of the Blurred Lines Case is, therefore, that songwriters can now be punished for creating new music that is merely inspired by prior works. By eliminating any meaningful standard for drawing the line between permissible inspiration and unlawful copying, the verdict is certain not only to impede the creative process and stifle future creativity, it ultimately does a disservice to past songwriters as well and adversely affects the entire music industry. The law, and specifically the intent behind the Copyright Act, would be much better served if the courts could provide clearer rules so that songwriters could know when the line is crossed, or at least where the line is.

I.  District Court’s Denial of Summary Judgment

Just prior to trial, the district court denied Williams and Thicke’s motion for summary judgment based upon the declarations of two musicologists submitted by the Gayes, which were filled with abstract theories, identifying certain remote, seemingly unrelated, factors of alleged similarity.[4] The court dismissedsimply as “issues of fact”the multitude of dissimilarities in the two works that were identified by Williams and Thicke’s musicologistincluding distinct, material differences in the actual melodies of the two songs.

Because “Got to Give it Up” was a pre-1978 composition and was recorded prior to 1972, the Court properly limited the Gayes’ proof to include only the deposit copy of the sheet music that was presented to the U.S. Copyright Office upon registration by Marvin Gaye’s publisher and did not allow the jury to hear the entire sound recording. However, immediately following this ruling, the court systematically and completely emasculated the ruling in the following significant ways:

  1. After the court had ruled on summary judgment that “Theme X” (a four-note melody) was not on the deposit copy, the court allowed the Gayes’ musicologist to testify that her “Theme X” was different from the court’s “Theme X,” and that her “Theme X” was implied[5] in the deposit copy (as was much of the music that was contained in the sound recording).
  2. The court allowed the Gayes’ musicologist to further testify that although the keyboard part in “Got to Give it Up” similarly was not in the deposit copy, “professional musicians would understand[6]” to play the keyboard part as she transcribed it—and that keyboard part was the “heartbeat” of “Got to Give it Up.”
  3. The court allowed the Gayes’ musicologist to use a transcription of the bass part from the sound recording that was different than the bass part on the deposit copy.
  4. The court allowed the Gayes’ musicologist to use sound bites from both works to show a “total concept and feel,” while in actuality compounding the issue with an instruction to the jury to disregard the actual clips and only to consider the musicologist’s “opinions.”
  5. The court allowed the Gayes’ musicologist to present a “mashup” of the two works, which was prepared after the close of expert discovery, and which included the bass and keyboard elements (that were not in the deposit copy)—while excluding mashups that were prepared by Williams and Thicke’s musicologist between “Got to Give it Up” and numerous old soul songs and many pop songs that could be played over the same four chords.
  6. The court allowed a lay witness who was in charge of the Marvin Gaye catalogue at Marvin Gaye’s record label (which also happened to be Robin Thicke’s record label), who does not even know how to read music, to testify that he listened to “Blurred Lines,” and thought that it was similar to the “Got to Give it Up” sound recording.

At the same time, the district court excluded evidence that Marvin Gaye’s own publisher strongly believed that there was no infringement. One of the functions of a music publisher is to police the copyrights of the songs in its catalogue, to assess whether or not its songwriters’ music has been infringed, and to commence litigation against the infringers.

In this case, according to Marvin Gaye’s publisher, EMI/Jobete, as stated in the Joint Rule 16(b) Report, EMI/Jobete

first internally analyzed whether ‘Blurred Lines’ was an infringement of ‘Got To Give It Up’ and determined that there was no infringement. Thereafter, Jobete secured the opinion of an expert musicologist who similarly concluded that there was no basis for a claim of infringement. Jobete duly reported its determinations to Frankie and Nona Gaye’s representatives . . . . Further Jobete advised that it could not, in good faith, bring infringement claims (either for ‘Got To Give It Up’ or for ‘After The Dance’ [another song that the Gayes claimed was infringed by Williams and Thicke] because its analysis, including expert analysis confirmed that neither work had ben infringed by Blurred Lines . . . . Jobete advised that, consistent with Rule 11 of the Federal Rules of Civil Procedure, it therefore could not and would not either defend Frankie and Nona Gaye [in Williams and Thicke’s declaratory relief action] or pursue the infringement claim they demanded.[7]

Ultimately, the Gayes actually sued EMI/Jobete for not pursuing the infringement claim against Williams and Thicke.[8]

II.  Infringement of An Idea, Which Is Not Copyrightable

It appears that the jury in this case was persuaded by a number of factors, including the foregoing similarities that were extraneous to the sheet music, interviews given by Robin Thicke, the number of musicologists that each side had (Gayes: two; Williams and Thicke: one), and the biased lay witness opinion. Not one of these factors had anything to do with any perceived similarity in pitch, rhythm, or chords, and not one of these factors constituted a proper basis for a finding of copyright infringement.

A result such as this, in which the melodies are not even close to being similar, is very dangerous, in that it does not distinguish between an idea and the expression of that idea, nor does it distinguish between the influence of a predecessor’s music and the unlawful copying of that music. The inherent danger of such a result is that, without drawing a proper line between what is an idea and what is an expression or between what is an influence and what is an infringement, future songwriters do not know whether their “influence” is going to land them with the next hit record or land them in courtor both, as demonstrated in this case.

Much has been said about Williams’s and Thicke’s apparent ability to afford to fund a case like this. Whether or not Williams and Thicke are able to afford to defend this case and pay a judgment, most of the musicians in the world are not in a position to do so. Clearly then, when a budding songwriter is contemplating the composition of a song, it is axiomatic that he or she is going to think twice before he or she writes a song that “feels” like a Marvin Gaye song or any other artist’s song, always with one foot in the recording studio and one foot in the courtroom. This is an untenable situation that most certainly will not foster uninhibited creativity.

III.  The Ninth Circuit Decision

Devastated by the effect that the verdict would have on future songwriters and the music industry in general, Williams and Thicke appealed the case to the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals. The Ninth Circuitin a 2-1, very lengthy decision,[9] written by Judge Milan D. Smith Jr.affirmed the bulk of the district court’s decision and ignored the cries of the 212 Amicus songwriters (and dissenting judge Jacqueline H. Nguyen). The majority asserted that its entire decision was about narrow procedural matters and concluded its decision by stating that: “[f]ar from heralding the end of musical creativity as we know it, our decision, even construed broadly, reads more accurately as a cautionary tale for future trial counsel wishing to maximize their odds of success.”[10]

At the heart of the appeal was the issue of whether the copyright protection enjoyed by the Gayes was limited to the sheet music of “Got to Give it Up” that was deposited with the U.S. Copyright Office, or whether the jury could hear the sound recording as well. Williams and Thicke had successfully argued to the district court that because the Gaye song was created under the Copyright Act of 1909, the jury should not get to hear the sound recording. The Gayes’ attorney argued at the district court and at the Ninth Circuit that their proof should not be so limited. On appeal, Williams and Thicke’s attorney argued that Judge Kronstadt erred by initially restricting the Gayes’ proof to the deposit copy but then allowing in bits and pieces of the sound recording through the testimony of the handsomely paid musicologist, Judith Finell.

The majority noted that Williams and Thicke’s position that the scope of the Gayes’ copyright was limited to the deposit copy did not appear to be specifically supported by any case law until the district court’s ruling. However, the court decided to avoid the issue altogether: “Nevertheless, because we do not remand the case for a new trial, we need not, and decline to, resolve this issue in this opinion.”[11]

The Court did affirm that the district court had discretion to allow testimony from both of the Gayes’ music experts, which Williams and Thicke’s lawyers claimed to have improperly incorporated opinions about the similarity of the sound recordings, notwithstanding its earlier limitation of proof to sheet music.

In response to Williams and Thicke’s assertion that Judge Kronstadt erroneously denied their motion for summary judgment, the appellate court determined that the denial of summary judgment, after a complete trial on the merits, is not reviewable unless the issue is one of pure law. The court determined that this was not such a case: “The district court’s application of the extrinsic test of similarity was a factbound inquiry far afield from decisions resolving ‘disputes about the substance and clarity of pre-existing law.’ The district court’s ruling bears little resemblance to legal issues we have reviewed pursuant to our exception.”[12]

With respect to Williams and Thicke’s claim that the district court should not have allowed certain portions of the testimony of the Gayes’ musicologists, the court pointed out that Finell “was impeached with her deposition testimony, in which she admitted that the rhythm of the keyboard parts in the sound recording of Got To Give It Up is not notated in the deposit copy.”[13] The court further noted that Williams and Thicke’s expert disputed her testimony and that the whole thing “boiled down to a question of whose testimony to believe,” which was the purview of the jury.[14] Ultimately, the court ruled that the verdict was not against the clear weight of the evidence.

The Blurred Lines decision was indeed a procedural one and is on very narrow grounds. The court held that the jury’s verdict was not against the clear weight of evidence and refused to disturb or “second guess” the jury’s fact-finding at trial. The court concluded that the district court did not abuse its discretion in denying Williams and Thicke’s motion for a new trial.[15]

Even Williams and Thicke’s contention that the damages were excessive was met with a purely procedural response. The jury had awarded the Gayes 50% of the publishing revenue from “Blurred Lines” as actual damages, which amounted to approximately $3.2 million. The court ruled that the Gayes’ expert testimony in that regard was not speculative and, therefore, affirmed the amount. Similarly, the court determined that the jury’s verdict awarding profits to the Gayes of $1.8 Million against Robin Thicke and $375,000 against Williams was “not clearly erroneous,” nor was the continuing 50% royalty rate.[16]

The court did take exception to the district court’s treatment of T.I. and the Interscope parties, but that was on procedural grounds as well. The jury had rendered a general verdict in favor of T.I. and the Interscope parties, finding (albeit inconsistently) that neither had violated the Gayes’ copyright. The district court disregarded the jury’s verdict in that regard and brought them back into the case.

The Ninth Circuit ruled that the Gayes waived their challenge to the consistency of the jury’s verdict in this regard by not asserting their position at trial before the jury was discharged. The court went on, however, to rule that, even if the Gayes had properly preserved their challenge, “neither Federal Rule of Civil Procedure 50(b) nor our decisions in Westinghouse and El-Hakem v. BJY Inc. conferred authority on the district court to upset the jury’s verdicts in this case.”[17] The court further noted that “no evidence showed Harris was vicariously liable.”[18]

The majority, by focusing on the procedural aspects of the case, minimized the precedential value of the appeal itself, ignoring the potentially catastrophic ramifications of the case as a whole. This cavalier dismissal by the majority precipitated a blistering dissent by Judge Jacqueline Nguyen and an actual rebuttal to the dissent by the majority.

Judge Nguyen writes: “The majority allows the Gayes to accomplish what no one has before: copyright a musical style.”[19] She states further that: “‘Blurred Lines’ and ‘Got to Give It Up’ are not objectively similar. They differ in melody, harmony, and rhythm. Yet by refusing to compare the two works, the majority establishes a dangerous precedent that strikes a devastating blow to future musicians and composers everywhere.”[20]

With respect to the expert musicologists, the dissent goes on:

While juries are entitled to rely on properly supported expert opinion in determining substantial similarity, experts must be able to articulate facts upon which their conclusions—and thus the jury’s findings—logically rely. Here, the Gayes’ expert, musicologist Judith Finell, cherry-picked brief snippets to opine that a constellation of individually unprotectable elements in both pieces of music made them substantially similar. That might be reasonable if the two constellations bore any resemblance. But Big and Little Dipper they are not. The only similarity between these constellations is that they’re both compositions of stars.[21]

Judge Nguyen then picks up on a theme that was forefront in the 212 Songwriters, etc. Amicus Brief, and that was that it is axiomatic that copyright laws do not protect ideas, but only the expression of ideas. In the Blurred Lines Case, the only similarities that exist between the two compositions is the “idea” of, for example, clapping hands, yells, different instruments, etc.

Judge Nguyen goes on to challenge the majority to explain which elements of “Got to Give It Up” were protectable. She also does not believe in the “sliding scale” of access vs. similarity, in other words, the more access can be proved, the less substantial the similarity that is required. The majority adopted the inverse ratio rule, which was designed for cases with limited accessessentially, the less likely the access, the more similarity that is necessary to prove “copying.”[22] Judge Nguyen does not believe that, with undisputed access, the extent of similarity necessary to fulfill a plaintiff’s burden of proof essentially dwindles down to nothing.[23]

In response, the majority strikes back, stating:

[T]he dissent prophesies that our decision will shake the foundations of copyright law, imperil the music industry, and stifle creativity. It even suggests that the Gayes’ victory will come back to haunt them, as the Gayes’ musical compositions may now be found to infringe any number of famous songs preceding them. Respectfully, these conjectures are unfounded hyperbole. Our decision does not grant license to copyright a musical style or groove. Nor does it upset the balance Congress struck between the freedom of artistic expression, on the one hand, and copyright protection of the fruits of that expression, on the other hand. Rather, our decision hinges on settled procedural principles and the limited nature of our appellate review, dictated by the particular posture of this case and controlling copyright law. Far from heralding the end of musical creativity as we know it, our decision, even construed broadly, reads more accurately as a cautionary tale for future trial counsel wishing to maximize their odds of success.[24]

A.  The Denial of Rehearing En Banc

After their appeal to the Ninth Circuit failed, Williams and Thicke filed a petition for an en banc rehearing of the case. Judge Nguyen was the sole judicial proponent of en banc review, which was therefore denied.

IV.  All Music Is InSpired By Other Music

From time immemorial, every songwriter, composer, and musician has been inspired by music that came before him or her. Even one of the musicologists for the Gayes admitted that, with respect to music: All composers share devices and building.” This is especially so within a particular musical genre. Virtually no music can be said to be 100% new and original.

David Bowie was influenced by John Coltrane, Velvet Underground, and Shirley Bassey, among others.[25] Lady Gaga was influenced by David Bowie, Elton John, and Queen, among others.[26] Elton John was influenced by The Beatles, Bob Dylan, The Kinks, and Elvis Presley, among others.[27] The Beatles were influenced by Chuck Berry, Cliff Richard, The Beach Boys, and Elvis Presley.[28] Elvis Presley’s musical influences were “the pop and country music of the time, the gospel music he heard in church and at the all-night gospel sings he frequently attended, and the black R&B he absorbed on historic Beale Street as a Memphis teenager.”[29]

Marvin Gaye, himself, was reportedly influenced by Frank Sinatra, Smokey Robinson, Nat “King” Cole, Sam Cooke, Ray Charles, Bo Didley, and James Brown.[30] In fact, “Got To Give It Up” was apparently inspired by Johnnie Taylor’s song “Disco Lady.”[31]

One can only imagine what our music would have sounded like if David Bowie would have been afraid to draw from Shirley Bassie, or if the Beatles would have been afraid to draw from Chuck Berry, or if Elton John would have been afraid to draw from the Beatles, or if Elvis Presley would have been afraid to draw from his many influences. Presumably, it would also be difficult for the Gayes to imagine if their father had been afraid to draw from Ray Charles or Bo Didley. Quite simply, if an artist is not allowed to display his or her musical influences, for fear of legal reprisal, there is very little new music that is going to be created, particularly with the limitations that already naturally exist in songwriting.

V.  Music Copyright Cases Need A Bright Line Test

In the world of film, television, and books, the universe of choices is unlimited. One can write about the past, the present, or the future; one can write about things that actually happened, things that one wished had happened, or things that could never happenthere is absolutely no limit beyond the author’s imagination.

Yet, notwithstanding those unlimited options, there is somewhat of a bright line test for infringement (and for obtaining summary judgment) in the film/television/book world that does not exist in the music world. With a film, an expert conducts the extrinsic test by comparing the plots, sequence of events, characters, theme, mood, and pace of the two works. The expert also filters out all of the scènes à faire, such as a car chase in an action movie or a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

A motion for summary judgment in such cases will weed out the protectable elements from the unprotectable elements. It will then demonstrate how the works are different with respect to protectable elements, and how any perceived similarities are based upon commonplace, unprotectable elements. The “language” spoken by the experts is typically one that the judge understands and can articulate freely.

In music, unlike film, etc., however, there is a “limited number of notes and chords available to composers,” and composers are therefore much more restricted in their options.[32] There are literally twelve notes per octave, and not all of those notes can be used in the same song. As Judge Learned Hand once wrote: “It must be remembered that, while there are an enormous number of possible permutations of the musical notes of the scale, only a few are pleasing; and much fewer still suit the infantile demands of the popular ear. Recurrence is not therefore an inevitable badge of plagiarism.”[33]

Yet, notwithstanding the severe actual and practical limitation of choices in music cases, the line drawing that exists in film copyright cases does not appear to exist in music cases. Musicologists speak a language that is often foreign to judges (and juries), and therefore confuse judges into denying summary judgment motions whenever two musicologists disagree.[34] There appears to be no easy way, no bright line, to determine in music casesand it was certainly not done in this casethe difference between creating the same “feel” or “style,”[35] and infringing a copyright.[36]

This is particularly so when a plaintiff can hire three, four, or five musicologists, conflict out three of them that find no similarities between any protectable elements, and know that, even if he only has one musicologist that can argue a case for infringement, he will avoid summary judgment. This is exactly what happened in the Blurred Lines Case. There were two or three musicologists that were initially consulted, rendered strong opinions of non-infringement, and ultimately were conflicted out of the case.[37]

VI.  Copyright Law Should Stimulate, Not Stifle, Creativity

The “ultimate aim” of the Copyright Act is “to stimulate artistic creativity for the general public good,” and most musicians applaud and appreciate that endeavor.[38] However, they also understand that, like the music that was created before them, their own music will serve as building blocks for future songwriters, who will create their own music. As discussed in Fogerty v. Fantasy, Inc., “copyright assures authors the right to their original expression, but encourages others to build freely upon the ideas and information conveyed by a work.”[39]

As written by Peter Alhadeff and Shereen Cheong in the Berklee College of Music Music Business Journal, “The Lesson of Blurred Lines,” quoting an interview with Berklee College of Music professor, Dr. E. Michael Harrington:If you’re not influenced by Marvin Gaye, there must be something wrong with you.”[40] The authors go on to write: “[h]e could just as well be talking about James Brown, Chuck Berry, the Beatles, or Michael Jacksonall of them a product of their own influences. Copyright law should make musical creativity flourish, not stifle.”[41]

Parker Higgins, director of copyright activism at the Electronic Frontier Foundation writes that

[w]hen we say a song sounds like a certain era, it’s because artists in that era were doing a lot of the same thingsor, yes, copying each other. If copyright were to extend out past things like the melody to really cover the other parts that make up the feel of a song, there’s no way an era, or a city, or a movement could have a certain sound. Without that, we lose the next disco, the next Motown, the next batch of protest songs.[42]

Finally, as written by composer Ron Mendelsohn, owner of production music company Megatrax:

All musical works, indeed all creative works, are born from a spark of inspiration. It is essential for musicians and composers to be able to find this spark anywhere and everywhere without having to constantly look over their shoulders and worry about being sued. To extinguish this spark, to replace it with fear, is to stifle creativity and deprive society of the next generation of great artists and new music. And yes, artists should be able to talk freely about their sources of inspiration without having to worry about their exuberant proclamations being played back as damning evidence in a court of law.[43]

VII.  The Celebration Of Influences Should Be Encouraged

Mendelsohn’s last point is an especially important one. In addition to the potential adverse impact that this case is certain to have on future songwriters, this case will have a lasting effect on past songwriters and musicians as well. Many interviews were played during the trial in which Pharrell Williams and Robin Thicke both expressed that they loved Marvin Gaye, and wanted, as an homage to him, to create a song that had the feel of “Got To Give It Up.” One might ask if there could possibly be a better legacy for a songwriter than to inspire other songwriters to write music and expressly pay homage to him or her for inspiring that musicpublicly, on national television and elsewhere, keeping his name and his music alive for generations to come.

Yet there can be no doubt in this case that the jury was swayed, at least in part (arguably in large part), by hearing such interviews. Ultimately, the jury held Williams and Thicke liable for copyright infringement and rendered an award of several million dollars against them. It is difficult to imagine a songwriter that comes along after this case publicly affording any credit to any influence that he or she receives from any songwriter.

Conclusion

It is apparent that the denial of summary judgment and the ultimate verdict in this case were based upon an undeniable musical inspiration, the overall look and feel of the two works, and a series of random, coincidental, and unimportant alleged similarities between unprotectable elements in the sound recording of “Got To Give It Up” (random elements that were not in the “Got To Give It Up” deposit copy) and “Blurred Lines.”

Many important popular songs in the modern era would not exist today if they were subjected to the same scrutiny as “Blurred Lines” was in this case. This case, which was based upon such factorswith no similarities in melody, with virtually no similarities with the music notation on the actual deposit copy, and simply based on a “groove”will clearly stifle future creativity, will undoubtedly diminish the legacies of past songwriters, and, without a doubt, is antithetical to the principals of the Copyright Act.

 

 

 


[*] *. This article was adapted from an amicus curiae brief that was filed by the author on behalf of 212 songwriters, composers, musicians, and producers, in connection with the appeal of the Blurred Lines Case to the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals. See generally Williams v. Gaye, 885 F.3d 1150 (9th Cir. 2018) [hereinafter the Blurred Lines Case].

[†] †. Edwin F. McPherson is a partner at McPherson Rane LLP in Century City, California, specializing in entertainment litigation, intellectual property litigation, and crisis management. He attended much of the trial in the Blurred Lines Case, has given numerous lectures on the case, and submitted an amicus curiae brief to the Ninth Circuit on behalf of 212 songwriters, composers, musicians, and composers.

 [1]. Though Williams and Thicke were both found liable for copyright infringement, T.I. was exonerated by the jury. Although the district court purported to overrule the jury and brought back in T.I. and the Interscope-related entities as defendants, the Ninth Circuit reversed that portion of the District Court’s judgment. The Blurred Lines Case, 885 F.3d at 1182–83.

 [2]. In the two days in which the jury deliberated, they did not once listen to any of the music.

 [3]. 17 U.S.C. § 102(b) (2018).

 [4]. Those theories were difficult enough (if not impossible) for trained musicians to understand; it is difficult to imagine how the Court could possibly fully grasp their import.

 [5]. Even to a person with no musical training, the concept of certain music being implied by certain other music sounds a bit suspect; however, to anyone with a modicum of musical training, this concept is absurd.

 [6]. Similarly, this concept makes no musical sense whatsoever.

 [7]. Joint Rule 16(b) Report at 5–6, Williams v. Bridgeport Music, Inc., LA CV13-06004 JAK (AGRx), 2016 U.S. Dist. LEXIS 193633.

 [8]. This illustrates an important (perhaps rhetorical) question for the courts and the music world in general. If the executives at EMI/Jobete, whose job it is to assess copyright claims involving their songwriters, did not believe that “Blurred Lines” infringed “Got To Give It Up,” and if the expert musicologist that EMI/Jobete hired to assist it in that determination did not believe that “Blurred Lines” infringed “Got To Give It Up,” and if the lawyer that was hired by EMI/Jobete believed so strongly that there was no infringement that he advised EMI/Jobete that suing Williams and Thicke might very well be a violation of Rule 11, how in the world could a songwriter, with no experience policing copyrights, no experience as an expert musicologist, and no legal training, determine that his or her own song might be an infringement?

 [9]. The Blurred Lines Case, 885 F.3d at 1183.

 [10]. Id. at 1182.

 [11]. Id. at 1165–66.

 [12]. Id. at 1166–67 (citations omitted).

 [13]. Id. at 1170.

 [14]. Id.

 [15]. Id. at 1172.

 [16]. Id. at 1174.

 [17]. Id. at 1175 (citing Westinghouse Elec. Corp. v. Gen. Circuit Breaker & Elec. Supply, Inc., 106 F.3d 894 (9th Cir. 1997) and El-Hakem v. BJY, Inc., 415 F.3d 1068 (9th Cir. 2005)).

 [18]. Id.

 [19]. Id. at 1183 (Nguyen, J., dissenting).

 [20]. Id.

 [21]. Id.

 [22]. Although this rule makes sense in the context of proving “copying” (access plus substantial similarity), when there is limited or a low likelihood of access, it is absurd to suggest that, if access is 100% proved, no similarity whatsoever is necessary. Moreover, this “test” also ignores the requirement, independent of proof of copying, that protectable elements of the two works must be substantially similar in order to prove actual infringement through the extrinsic test. In other words, copying alone does not constitute infringement if the elements copied are not protectable. There must be substantial similarity in copyrightable expression. The inverse ratio rule is so controversial that, in an amended decision, the Ninth Circuit deleted the paragraph from its original opinion discussing the rule and its application. Compare The Blurred Lines Case, 885 F.3d at 1163, with Williams v. Gaye, 895 F.3d 1106, 1119 (9th Cir. 2018).

 [23]. The inverse ratio analysis has been criticized and rejected in other jurisdictions. For instance, in Arc Music Corp. v. Lee, 296 F.2d 186, 188 (2d Cir. 1961), the Second Circuit ruled that access will not make up for a lack of similarity, “and an undue stress upon that one feature can only confuse and even conceal this basic requirement.”

 [24]. The Blurred Lines Case, 885 F.3d at 1182 (majority opinion).

 [25]. Commencement 1999, Berklee, https://www.berklee.edu/commencement/past (last visited Dec. 1, 2018).

 [26]. Sam Stryker, Lady Gaga and the Glam Rock Men Who Inspire Her, Mic (Nov. 14, 2013), https://mic.com/articles/73263/lady-gaga-and-the-glam-rock-men-who-inspire-her#.YIo314rrY.

 [27]. Neil McCormick, Leon Russell Interview for the Union with Elton John, Telegraph (Oct. 13, 2013), https://www.telegraph.co.uk/culture/music/rockandpopfeatures/8062253/Leon-Russell-interview-for-The-Union-with-Elton-John.html.

 [28]. Ten Artists and Bands that Inspired the Beatles, Reader’s Digest U.K.,

https://www.readersdigest.co.uk/culture/music/ten-artists-and-bands-that-inspired-the-beatles
(last visited Jan. 16, 2019).

 [29]. Elvis Presley Biography, Graceland, https://www.graceland.com/elvis/biography.aspx (last visited Dec. 1, 2018)              .

 [30].  Marvin Gaye Influences, Shmoop, https://www.shmoop.com/whats-going-on/influences
.html (last visited Jan. 16, 2019).

 [31]. See generally Graham Betts, Motown Encyclopedia (2014).

 [32]. Gaste v. Kaiserman, 863 F.2d 1061, 1068 (2nd Cir. 1988).

 [33]. Darrell v. Joe Morris Music Co., 113 F.2d 80, 80 (2nd Cir. 1940) (per curiam).

 [34]. What the Gayes’ musicologists did in this case to avoid summary judgment (and ultimately at trial) is the equivalent of an expert in a film case testifying that the word “destruction” was used four times in the first scene of one film and two times in the second scene of the second film. They might go on to say that the word “destruction” was followed by the words “of a house” in the first film, and “of a truck” in the second film, along with an explanation that “house” and “truck” both have five letters, and many trucks are parked at houses. Such testimony would be readily dismissed, if not laughed at, in a film case, and the motion for summary judgment granted. Unfortunately, the musical equivalent—which is essentially what occurred in this case—is not as easy to understand and dismiss.

 [35]. Music law is further hampered by the Ninth Circuit’s intrinsic test, in which a lay jury is asked to determine the “total concept and feel” of the works in question. Such a test simply does not work in a music context. One might argue that virtually every disco song has the same “total concept and feel.” One could argue that every blues song or every rap song has the same “total concept and feel.” This notion is antithetical to the reality of musicians’ inspirations and borrowing and is entirely preventative of creativity.

 [36]. Duke Law School music copyright law professor Jennifer Jenkins, after noting that “Got to Give It Up” was inspired by Johnnie Taylor’s song “Disco Lady,” writes that “Gaye cannot claim copyright over material that he himself borrowed.” As professor Jenkins further discusses: “Copyright only covers ‘original, creative expression.’ Anything Marvin Gaye copied directly from his Motown, funk, or disco predecessors is not ‘original’ and should be off the table.” She writes further: “In addition, copyright’s “scènes à faire” doctrine allows anyone to use the defining elements of a genre or style without infringing copyright, because these building blocks are ‘indispensible’ to creating within that genre . . . . Many of the musical elements common to ‘Blurred Lines’ and ‘Got To Give It Up’ fall into these unprotectable categories.” Jennifer Jenkins, The “Blurred Lines” of the Law, Ctr. for the Study of the Pub. Domain, https://law.duke.edu/cspd/blurredlines (last visited Nov. 1, 2018).

 [37]. This is another practice that should be discontinued. Expert witnesses, if they are to maintain any credibility of non-bias whatsoever, should be allowed to testify for whatever side they agree with, and not be immediately conflicted out from testifying in favor of the second party/attorney that calls them just because they were second. The Court could also retain its own expert(s) pursuant to Rule 706 of the Federal Rules of Evidence.

 [38]. Twentieth Century Music Corp. v. Aiken, 422 U.S. 151, 156 (1975).

 [39]. Fogerty v. Fantasy, Inc., 510 U.S. 517, 527 (1994) (emphasis added).

 [40]. Dr. Harrington has analyzed more than 230 of Marvin Gaye’s songs and uses his music in classes that he has taught. He agrees that the “groove” and “bounce” of the two works are similar, but is adamant that “[o]bjectively, there is NO protectable expression (melody, harmony, etc.) that has been copied by Thicke” and that “[t]here is no copying of copyrightable expression involving harmonies of the two songs. What is extremely close between the songs is the tempo . . . but tempo is not copyrightable.” Peter Alhadeff & Shereen Cheong, The Lesson of Blurred Lines, Music Bus. J. (Feb. 2016), http://www.thembj.org/2016/01/the-lesson-of-blurred-lines; see also Dr. E Michael Harrington, Good News for Robin, Katy & One Direction: Music Copyright Expert Says Nobody’s Ripping Off Anybody, E Michael Music (Aug. 19, 2013), http://www.emichaelmusic.com/good-news-for-robin-katy-one-direction-music-copyright-expert-says-nobodys-ripping-off-anybody.

 [41]. Alhadeff & Cheong, supra note 40.

 [42]. Adam Pasick, A Copyright Victory for Marvin Gaye’s Family Is Terrible for the Future of Music, Quartz (Mar. 10, 2015), https://qz.com/360126/a-copyright-victory-for-marvin-gayes-family-is-terrible-for-the-future-of-music.

 [43]. Ron Mendelsohn, Will the “Blurred Lines” Decision “Stifle Creativity”?, Megatrax (Apr. 1, 2015), http://blogtrans.megatrax.com/will-the-blurred-lines-decision-stifle-creativity.