New solutions for new problems: who knows your passwords after you die?

Here’s a new problem: how do your heirs get access to your financial accounts and other online information after you die? You can, of course, be sure to maintain a file of your user names and passwords, but you run the risk of forgetting to change the list as you change passwords, and who among us has compiled such a list?

Into the vacuum created by such needs come solutions. As Rafe Needleman writes, “Legacy Locker simply backs up the passwords and access codes to your online accounts. When you die, it gives that information to the people you designate.” And the system (scheduled to become operative in April) comes with all sorts of backup systems built in:

The system periodically tries to log on to your accounts for you. If it can’t–if you’ve changed passwords–it alerts you to update your records. Also, Legacy Locker only unlocks if two people whom you’ve designated confirm your death, and even then only if one of them supplies a death certificate to the company. Legacy Locker staff handles this; the unlock procedure is not wholly automated. Toeman claims that the system’s files are all encrypted and cannot be unlocked without authorization.

Of course, it comes with a price — $29.99 a year or $299.99 for a lifetime subscription. And Life Locker plans to market itself primarily to estate planners, who will pass on the cost to their customers.

And, of course, I hope it’s not just a very effective phishing scheme.

Trying Proposition 8 as teachable moment

Margaret Talbot notes that a trial can be a terrific method of educating the public on controversial issues. In particular, she focuses on Perry v. Schwarzenegger, the case in which the constitutionality of California’s Proposition 8, overturning the state’s gay marriage law, is being challenged. Talbot has been blogging about the trial throughout the 3 weeks it has been going on. Her latest post points out that trials, in subjecting witnesses to cross examination, permits scrutiny of controversial views that other forums don’t ever provide. As David Boies puts it “The crucible of cross examination forces the witness to confront the other side; they can’t fall back on bumper sticker slogans like ‘marriage is between a man and a woman.’ ”

Talbot compares the educational value of Perry to that of the trial in Kitzmiller v. Dover Area School District, the successful legal challenge against a public school district’s requirement that “intelligent design” be taught as an alternative to evolution as an explanation of the origin of life:

In many ways [the trial in Perry] reminded me of another culture-war trial that I covered, in 2005, one that presented a similar opportunity for intellectually engaging with the arguments and research that usually remain submerged beneath a politicized controversy. That trial was to decide whether intelligent design could be part of the curriculum in a Pennsylvania school district, and its expert testimony covered everything from the fossil record of obscure dinosaurs to Darwin’s own religious beliefs to the theoretical underpinnings of the separation of church and state.

It really is unfortunate the Supreme Court ruled that Perry could not be broadcast via the internet. I very much would like to have seen a witness explain exactly how it is that gay marriage undermines straight marriage. I’ve genuinely tried to understand the argument from some very intelligent people who think that gay marriage does indeed undermine straight marriage, but, I’ll confess, my mind has been unable to get itself around the argument.

The music industry, book publishing, and now Lexis and Westlaw?

Our technological revolution is taking down the music industry as its operated for the last 80 years or so, the book industry as its operated for the last 150 years or so, and now there are plenty of people who think that internet in general and Google Scholar in particular will take down the online legal research regime that has only existed since a couple of years before I started law school in 1981 — Stephen E. Arnold writes:

What is the financial outlook for the LexisNexis-type and Westlaw-type firms? Short term there won’t be much change. Over time, life gets tougher. I do quite a bit of work in online information, and I am not sure these outfits can adapt to the Google’s legal push.

Here’s legal innovation: YouTube Broadcast of the Proposition 8 Trial. But will it happen? Stay tuned.

There are few more important and timely issues concerning innovation and law than the impact of the internet on courts. Courts have always been considered public institutions anyone could walk into to see court proceedings or to look themselves at court files. But now making something “public” means making it available to anyone at his or her own computer, and the inherent resistance to change that resides in any well-established institution makes courts and those who don’t want their legal stands exposed to the brightest possible public lights reluctant to embrace this new notion of public access.

So, as CNN reports, controversy and legal wrangling has erupted over the decision by “the federal judge who is hearing appeals of California’s Proposition 8 this week ruled that the proceedings could be shown — albeit in delayed fashion — on YouTube.”  But opponents of same-sex marriage, outlawed by Proposition 8, appealed the judge’s order and yesterday the Supreme Court postponed the online broadcasts at least until tomorrow (when, it is hoped, the Supreme Court will rule on the issue).

Jon Davidson, legal director of the pro-gay rights Lambda Legal, argued that opponents of same-sex marriage want to keep the trial as much out of the public eye as they can because public debate on same-sex marriage actually increases support for it. In addition, he argued that the risks of true public access to the proceedings is way overblown:

“One of the things we find on the marriage issue, but really on all issues in response to gay rights, is that the more discussion there is — the more conversation, the more people learn — the more likely it is that gay people are going to do well,” Davidson said.

Davidson said posting the trial on YouTube wouldn’t increase the potential for witnesses to be harassed, saying that anyone can read news reports after the fact to find out who spoke and what they said.

Besides, any effort to block new-media coverage of the hearings is already too late, Davidson said. He said people in the courtroom for opening arguments Monday were posting live updates to Twitter throughout.

The records in the Bristol Palin/Levi Johnston custody battle should be sealed.

Court documents are public records. Do we really want internet access to all court records. Do you want anyone with an internet connection to have access to the files in your divorce case? Do you realize how much personal stuff you might have to disclose in a lawsuit? Do you realize how many lies can be aimed at you by opposing counsel and their client?

While all this stuff is of course available now, forcing someone to go down to the courthouse to ask for the files and look at them there certainly filters a considerable amount of junk from public disclosure.

In a certain way, the issues raised by these questions are relevant to the piece by Ruth Marcus in which she struggles with her own internal conflict over whether the court hearing the custody battle between Bristol Palin and Levi Johnston should seal the records, thereby keeping them from the eyes of journalists (and, indirectly, from the public at large:

As a journalist, I’m supposed to be in favor of maximum access to court documents. As a human being—and in particular as a mother—I have a hard time seeing why the custody fight between Bristol Palin and Levi Johnston ought to be splayed out on the public record for all to see. An Alaska judge has denied Palin’s request to keep the dispute under seal. How can this possibly be in the best interests of the child?

I happen to agree with Marcus’ view as a mother. As she also writes, the “question in the case is whether Bristol Palin’s request for sole legal and physical custody of her son—with Johnston given visitation rights—should be granted.” The evidence regarding that request, which no doubt will include allegations of outrageousness from both sides, turns on the best interests of the child. It’s certainly in the best interests of the child that there not be a full public record of these allegations. And I frankly see no public interest outweighing that interest.

But it makes sense that the Palin/Johnston case is fought out over a request by one party to seal the record — Bristol Palin knows reporters will be down at the courthouse ready to broadcast the allegations set forth in any document filed. What about you? Do you know who’s going to be trolling through the files in your case from his laptop off in some coffee shop a thousand miles away?

DJ Earworm – United State of Pop 2009 (Blame It on the Pop) – Mashup of Top 25 Billboard Hits

Is a music video with no original content “transformative” if I like it better  than any of the top 25 hits of the year it samples and it explains partly why that is? I think so.

Breaking through to the other side: the music and publishing industries are dying. Music and writing will live on in new ways, and we’re living through the revolution.

My sister, Amy Friedman, is a brilliant writer who, like most artists I know who make their livings as artists, has managed to make her way by working her butt off doing a million different writerly things. She wrote a weekly column for the Kingston Weekly Standard, Canada’s oldest newspaper. In 1992 she began to write Tell Me a Story, which, on a weekly basis syndicated by Universal Press Syndicates, produces an “original story or a children’s classic accompanied by a captivating illustration that will launch the imagination.” She must now have written over a thousand of these stories. Two compilations of these stories have been published as books, Tell Me a Story and The Spectacular Gift. She personally produced 3 CD collections of these stories read by actors and backed by music composed specifically for each work. (You can buy them here, individually or as a 3 CD boxed set). Each one of the CDs has won numerous awards, and the most recent was the Winner of 2009 Parents Choice Gold Medal and 2009 NAPPA Gold Medal for story telling. John Wood of Kid Muzic wrote of the first CD: “The talent is first-rate from top to bottom. The stories literally jump off the CD and into the listener’s imagination – I love the choices on all levels! This is the real deal”

Amy has also written 2 works of non-fiction, Kick the Dog and Shoot the Cat and Nothing Sacred: A Conversation With Feminism. She continues to write and publish both fiction and nonfiction for newspapers, magazines and literary journals. She also performs her stories, often accompanied by musicians, in schools and at summer festivals. She is presently working on a novel, a collection of short stories and a television adaptation of Tell Me a Story. She’s a brilliant teacher of writing too.

In short, Amy is an artist, she works like hell at it, she produces brilliant work, and she has never, to put it mildly, been economically secure in the way, say, many of my law students expect to be.

So I took it very seriously when she sent me the following yesterday:

All the authors I know, every one of them, is freaking out. Celebrity books. No reviewers anywhere. Insane advances to celebrities leaving nothing left for others, no reviewers, too many reviewers, Kindle, celebrity books, the death of Editor and Publisher and Kirkus Reviews, all the authors I know are freaking out. If my memoir had gone to editors even three years ago, it would be sold by now. Everyone’s scared. Whaddya think? http://bit.ly/5O2CQI

I’m choosing not to freak out. I’m choosing to say, this too shall pass, and it will enliven the art world in some new way. (That’s my prayer, anyway)

In the article Amy linked to, Katharine Weber, a former National Book Critics Circle board of directors member, novelist and short story writer, details some of the changes wrought by the internet on book publishing and concludes, among other things, “That literary work will continue to lose value as it is seen even more as just another form of communication, rather than as a work of art with its own integrity.”

There are 2 important points I want to make here: (1) I do not write incessantly about copyright and the slippery notion of authorship as some ivory tower intellectual without strong connections to artists and art art of all sorts, and (2) I have a very personal stake in these questions. So this (with some slight edits) is what I wrote back to Amy yesterday:

Not freaking out is always the better choice. I can’t think of a situation in which freaking out adds value; in fact, I can’t think of a situation in which freaking out doesn’t considerably worsen the situation.

But the fact so many people are freaking out is, in my opinion, because we’re living through a frigging technological revolution. Come on, you remember your Marx. The stuff he was brilliant about: material and economic reality determine cultural reality. Cultural reality has an effect on material reality too. That’s why the experience of a cultural freakout is not a healthy thing. It leads to bad decisions. Had Jack Valenti and the entire film industry had their way, there would be no VHS machines, no CD and DVD burners, etc., etc. But it turned out that the VHS was the biggest financial boon the film industry had ever experienced.

The way we produce, copy, and disseminate information had entirely changed. Anyone sitting in a coffee shop can produce a document that looks as if it’s been typeset. (And I’m sure my students have no clue what typesetting is.) That document can be copied at virtually no cost, and disseminated world-wide at virtually no cost. So, guess what? The entire publishing industry as we’ve known it is a walking corpse. You can almost imagine the zombie image composed of parts of Sarah Palin, Oprah, Dan Brown, and Tiger Woods lumbering down Manhattan’s avenues.

What will result? I don’t know yet. But I strongly disagree with Katherine Weber’s statement that “literary work will continue to lose value as it is seen even more as just another form of communication, rather than as a work of art with its own integrity.” The idea that literary work is anything other than a vast cultural discussion is a relic of the Romantics.

And there will still be books bought. They’ll be read on electronic readers a lot and in codex form a lot – I’m pretty sure demand for the scroll and the inscribed tablet has vanished entirely. And there will be some illicit copying and distribution (that might not in the end result in a net loss to the author).

But sure, publishing houses and anyone who’s convinced her livelihood is dependent on publishing houses is freaking out. Let them. The recording industry once had a monopoly on producing and distributing recorded music. Now any kid can do it on his laptop. And musicians are still making money. The music industry will scream and scream that the internet is killing it, but that’s because the music industry’s ways of producing and distributing music over the past 100 years have as much relevance today as the horse and carriage industry’s ways of producing and distributing means of transportation had after the automobile became widely used.

As Mike Masnick at techdirt has written, a recent report by 2 British economists (pdf) demonstrates that “the UK music industry is actually growing. Let me repeat that: despite all of the whining and complaining about the state of the music industry, some of the music industry’s own economists are admitting that the market is growing. Not surprisingly, it found that retail product sales have declined, but the other parts of the industry have grown noticeably more than the decline in retail sales. This growth has come from a few sources. Live show attendance has increased more than retail sales have decreased. Consumers have actually spent more. On top of that, the business to business side of the industry (sponsorships, licensing, advertisements, etc.) has grown as well, opening up new and lucrative means of making money.”

Neither Masnick nor I would paint the present situation has some new technologically produced utopia — too much of the money in the music industry is going to touring artists from the ancient days of our youths, among other things. But the point he is making is that trying to pass laws and create digital locks and promote misleading propaganda is not going to recreate a model of producing and distributing recorded music that no longer makes any sense.

Something new is developing, there’s no stopping it, and the thrilling thing is that we are part of creating it.

If I had to bet, I suspect in the long run we’ll probably end up with fewer writers making too much money, and more making at least some.

But there’s been literature for what, at least 3000 years? The fall of the structure which produced and sold it in the 20th Century capitalist West won’t mean there won’t be great literature. There may be more. I really think so.

I bought and started re-reading Lewis Hyde’s Trickster Makes this World yesterday. The Trickster is the character who operates between realms, at doorways, through openings that others don’t cross either because they don’t see them or they’re afraid of what’s on the other side. (The intro to Hyde’s book is available as a pdf here — provided by Hyde himself.) And the trickster is the artist. If there’s ever been a doorway to a new reality in the world of literature, we’re facing it head on. Let’s break on through to the other side!

A cell phone really (not just abstractly) is different than an address book.

The Ohio Supreme Court ruled yesterday (pdf) that police officers must obtain a search warrant before searching the contents of a suspect’s cell phone unless the officers’ safety is at stake. The specific data at issue were the records of the telephone calls made to and from the suspect’s cell phone.  As the court made clear, “[o]nce the cell phone is in police custody, the state has satisfied its immediate interest in collecting and preserving evidence and can take preventive steps to ensure that the data found on the phone is neither lost nor erased. But because a person has a high expectation of privacy in a cell phone’s contents, police must then obtain a warrant before intruding into the phone’s contents.” Slip op., ¶23.

In reaching its decision, the court first distinguished cell phones from “closed containers,” “physical objects capable of holding other physical objects.” Such objects on or in the vicinity of a suspect are subject to search without a warrant. ” Indeed, the United States Supreme Court has stated that in this situation, ‘container’ means ‘any object capable of holding another object.’  One such example is a cigarette package containing drugs found in a person’s pocket.” Id., ¶19 (citations omitted). The dissenin the Ohio case concluded that the cell phone is a “closed container” because “a cell phone’s digital address book is akin to traditional address books carried on the person. Courts have upheld police officers’ search of an address book found on an arrestee’s person during a search incident to a lawful arrest.  The phone’s call list is similar, showing a list of telephone numbers that called to or were called from the phone.” Id., ¶34.

The dissent’s reasoning seems odd. The phone’s call list is not “similar” to an “address book.” The call list is electronically generated by making and receiving telephone calls, and thus is the same kind of electronically generated information regularly produced by, among other devices, your laptop. Thus, the majority of the court were convinced that because modern cell phones “have the capacity for storing immense amounts of private information” they are thus are more like laptop computers, in which arrestees have significant privacy interests — in contrast to address books or pagers found on their persons, in which defendants have lesser privacy interests. Id., ¶18. The court did not equate cell phones precisely to laptops (though no doubt iPhone users might take exception to the court’s failure to do so), but the similarity, in combination with the fact the police have the means necessary by warrant to obtain information from a cell phone, compelled the court’s conclusion:

Although cell phones cannot be equated with laptop computers, their ability to store large amounts of private data gives their users a reasonable and justifiable expectation of a higher level of privacy in the information they contain. Once the cell phone is in police custody, the state has satisfied its immediate interest in collecting and preserving evidence and can take preventive steps to ensure that the data found on the phone is neither lost nor erased. But because a person has a high expectation of privacy in a cell phone’s contents, police must then obtain a warrant before intruding into the phone’s contents. Id., ¶24.

The dissent, on the other hand, unable to distinguish a cell phone from an address book, accused the majority of “needlessly embark[ing] upon a review of cell phone capabilities in the abstract.” Id., ¶30.

Funny, I didn’t know that the review of differences between cell phones and address books in 2009 required “abstract” thinking.

Don’t let your clients send you emails from their employers’ email systems.

Mike Masnick at techdirt has an interesting item about a court decision that “personal emails sent from work computers can still be considered privileged and confidential as an attorney-client communication.” Masnick notes, however, that “[w]e’ve seen plenty of cases where courts have said that an individual has no expectation of privacy on emails sent from work.” And he realizes that the case he’s discussing isn’t the typical employee e-mail case; instead, “it dealt with a federal prosecutor who was fired, and is trying to claim that the firing was for his whistle-blowing. He was trying to access the emails of a US Attorney that he believes will reveal why he was fired. So it wasn’t a case of a company trying to review the email (which is normally the case in these types of lawsuits). And, as such, it makes sense.”

But Masnick has a more interesting question: suppose you e-mail your lawyer from your employer’s e-mail system — is your e-mail protected by the attorney-client privilege from disclosure to your employer? As Masnick wonders:

[W]hat would happen in a lawsuit where it was the employer looking at the material? If a company has a regular program of recording and examining employee email (as many do), then how would the issue be resolved? It would seem that, in such circumstances, it would make a lot less sense to consider the content protected, since the employer is not asking for it, but already has access to it.

I think Masnick is right that your e-mail to your attorney, sent from an e-mail system you know your employer has access to (pursuant to typical employee e-mail policies), is not subject to the attorney-client privilege. And if it’s not protected by the privilege, anyone who has a right to it as relevant evidence in a lawsuit will be able to get it, not merely the author’s employer.

Why? The mere communication between client and lawyer does not establish the existence of an attomey·client relationship ”It is of the essence of the privilege that it is limited to those communications which the client either expressly made confidential or which he could reasonably assume under the circumstances would be understood by the attorney as so intended.” McCormick on Evidence § 91 (4th ed. 1972).

Thus, to establish confidentiality, (1) “[t]he client must intend his communications with his attorney to be confidential, (2) [t]he client’s subjective intention of confidentiality must be reasonable under the circumstances, and (3) the confidentiality must have been subsequently maintained. A subjective expectation of privacy can sometimes be ascertained from the client’s express intentions.” Those intentions must be determined from the circumstances surrounding the communication. William P. Matthews, Encoded Confidences: Electronic Mail the Intemet, and the Attorney-Giant Privilege, 45 U. Kan. L. Rev. 273, 283 (1996).

In short, in considering whether the privilege applies, the courts focus on the precautions taken to preserve confidentiality and the parties’ “reasonable expectation of privacy.” Wendy R. leibowitz, Communication in the E·Mail Era: Deciphering the Risks and Fears, Nat’l LJ., Aug. 4, 1997, at B9.

Lawyers are like priests or doctors — you learn early on that your client’s confidence’s are sacred and that your knowledge of them will go to the grave with you. You learn too that disclosure of those confidences to third parties destroys them. So you don’t discuss client business on elevators, in subways, in taxis, on planes, in restaurants, in coffee shops, on crowded sidewalks . . . . You know a client’s “friend” who is along for moral support but not part of the case should not be present for discussions that should be kept confidential.

In short, you know that if there’s a reasonable likelihood someone else may be in on the communication (whether by listening in or by opening the letter or e-mail), the communication is not confidential. And it doesn’t seem to me that an employee has a reasonable expectation that someone else may not be “in on” the communications he makes via e-mail from work. As the Privacy Rights Clearing House puts it:

Is electronic mail private? What about voice mail?

In most cases, no. If an electronic mail (e-mail) system is used at a company, the employer owns it and is allowed to review its contents. Messages sent within the company as well as those that are sent from your terminal to another company or from another company to you can be subject to monitoring by your employer. This includes web-based email accounts such as Yahoo and Hotmail as well as instant messages. The same holds true for voice mail systems. In general, employees should not assume that these activities are not being monitored and are private. Several workplace privacy court cases have been decided in the employer’s favor. See for example: Bourke v. Nissan, Smyth v. Pillsbury, Shoars v. Epson.

In short, if you’re communicating with your lawyer in the course of what you consider a lawyer-client communication, don’t use your employer’s email system. You might just as well be speaking with your lawyer in the back seat of a taxi with the cabbie listening in.

Who owns the rights to ebooks – publishers who bought the rights to publish “in book form” or the original authors? I’ll bet on the authors.

Who owns the rights to electronic versions of books governed by contracts published back in the days when there was no such thing as an e-book?

Typically, the contracts an author signed with the publishers of those books gave the publisher the exclusive right to publish “in book form” or “in any and all editions.” According to the New York Times (hyperlinks added),

In 2001, Random House sued RosettaBooks, an e-book publisher, for copyright infringement when Rosetta signed contracts with authors . . . to release digital versions of previously published novels.

In its suit, Random House relied on wording in its contracts that granted it all rights to publish the works “in book form.”. . .

In 2001, a federal judge in Manhattan denied Random House’s request for a preliminary injunction against RosettaBooks, ruling that “in book form” did not automatically include e-books. An appellate court similarly denied Random House’s request.

On Friday, however, the Times reports (hyperlinks in original) that “Markus Dohle, chief executive of Random House, sent a letter (pdf) to dozens of literary agents, writing that the company’s older agreements gave it ‘the exclusive right to publish in electronic book publishing formats.’” According to Mr. Dohle’s letter:

The vast majority of our backlist contracts grant us the exclusive right to publish books in electronic formats, as well as more traditional physical formats. At the same time, we are aware there have been some misunderstandings conceming ebook rights in older backlist titles. Our older agreements often give the exclusive right to publish “in book form” or “in any and all editions”. Many of those contracts also include enhanced language that references other forms of copying or displaying the text that might be developed in the future or other relevant language that more specifically reflects the already expansive scope of rights. Such grants are usually not limited to any specitic format, and indeed the “f0rm” of a book has evolved over the years to include variations of hardcover, paperback and other written word fonnats, all of which have been understood to be included in the grant of book publishing rights. Indeed, ebook retailers market, merchandise and sell ebooks as an alternate book format, alongside the hardcover, trade paperback, and mass market versions of a given title. Whether physical or digital, the product is used and experienced in the same manner, serves the same function, and satisfies the same fundamental urge to discover stories, ideas and infomation through the process of reading.

Accordingly, Random House considers contracts that grant the exclusive right to publish “in book form” or.”in any and all editions” to include the exclusive right to publish in electronic book publishing formats. Our agreements also contain broad non-competition provisions. so that the author is precluded from granting publishing rights to third parties that would compromise the rights for which Random House has bargained. We believe the effective exercise of electronic rights is key to the future of publishing and that the combined marketing of print and digital formats increases overall sales and creates the largest possible pool of revenues for authors and publishers, Our efforts and investments in the digital realm perfectly complement Random House’s unmatched physical sales and distribution capabilities, which remain a centerpiece of our business and relationships.

But William Styron’s family disputes Random House’s assertions that it owns the rights to publish electronic versions of Mr. Styron’s books. One problem with Random House’s position is that, despite what Mr. Dohle writes, Random House’s contract with Mr. Styron did not grant to Random House rights that refer to “forms of copying or displaying the text that might be developed in the future,” and, in further contradiction to Mr. Dohle’s words, were quite explicit in being “limited to . . . specific format[s].” As the District Court decision in the case between Random House and Rosetta Stone makes clear, Styron’s contract granted Random House “an exclusive license to ‘print, publish and sell the work in book form,’ Styron also gave it the right to ]license publication of the work by book clubs,’ ‘license publication of a reprint edition,’ ‘license after book publication the publication of the work, in whole or in part, in anthologies, school books,’ and other shortened forms, ‘license without charge publication of the work in Braille, or photographing, recording, and microfilming the work for the physically handicapped,’ and ‘publish or permit others to publish or broadcast by radio or television … selections from the work, for publicity purposes ….’”

The court reasons that the “separate grant language . . . to convey the rights to publish book club editions, reprint editions, abridged forms, and editions in Braille . . . would not be necessary if the phrase ‘in book form’ encompassed all types of books. That [language] specifies exactly which rights were being granted by the author to the publisher.”

The court further opined that “a reasonable person ‘cognizant of the customs, practices, usages and terminology as generally understood in the particular trade or business,’  would conclude that the grant language does not include ebooks. ‘To print, publish and sell the work in book form” is understood in the publishing industry to be a ‘limited’ grant.’” (citations and footnote omitted)

Finally, the court pointed out that Random House itself had acknowledged that ebooks are a new medium (and thus, presumably, not within the contemplation of the parties when they entered into their agreements to allocate their respective rights):

In this case, the “new use” – electronic digital signals sent over the internet – is a separate medium from the original use – printed words on paper. Random House’s own expert concludes that the media are distinct because information stored digitally can be manipulated in ways that analog information cannot. Ebooks take advantage of the digital medium’s ability to manipulate data by allowing ebook users to electronically search the text for specific words and phrases, change the font size and style, type notes into the text and electronically organize them, highlight and bookmark, hyperlink to specific parts of the text, and, in the future, to other sites on related topics as well, and access a dictionary that pronounces words in the ebook aloud. The need for a software program to interact with the data in order to make it usable, as well as the need for a piece of hardware to enable the reader to view the text, also distinguishes analog formats from digital formats. See Greenberg v. National Geographic Soc’y, 244 F.3d 1267, 1273 n.12 (11th Cir. 2001) (Digital format is not analogous to reproducing the magazine in microfilm or microfiche because it “requires the interaction of a computer program in order to accomplish the useful reproduction involved with the new medium.”). (citation omitted; hyperlink added).

There’s no question the publishing houses are fighting for their very existence. It’s interesting, though, that copyright holders are fighting the publishing companies over those rights. So much of the focus in this area of late has been over Google’s right to copy books to make them searchable so that they could be found and, as a result, purchased or otherwise obtained from the rightful owners of the books themselves. But now it’s the publishers who are trying to stretch the rights they contractually negotiated for decades ago to realms no one imagined at the time.

It will be interesting to see where this goes next. As a contracts professor, my first impression is that Random House isn’t exactly in the strongest of positions.

Nesson continues to blame others for his lousy job of lawyering.

The  Harvard Law Record reported yesterday on Charlie Nesson’s address to : a room full of HLS students to explain his motivations and methods as the lawyer representing Joel Tenenbaum in Sony BMG Music v. Tenenbaum, the case that resulted in a $675,000 judgment against his client.

I have on more than one occasion expressed my harsh views regarding Nesson’s lawyering in the case (here and here). But the Harvard Law Record’s story only adds fuel to my fury at Nesson’s lawyering skills. According to the story, “When the case first came to his attention, Nesson knew that there was little chance of victory on the merits, with the only truly viable strategy at trial being the minimization of damages.” (emphasis added)

The RIAA cannot have been happy about the way it looks after winning a judgment of $675,000 from a kid, especially since, as Nesson with some degree of accuracy explains, “[w]hat Joel did in downloading and sharing songs was what just about every kid in his generation did and which I bet a great many of you did.” The RIAA was anxious to settle a similar case in which it won $1.92 million from Jammie Thomas-Rasset for illegally downloading 24 songs. As Mike Masnick wrote, the RIAA “seems to recognize that the insanity of the $1.92 million doesn’t do it any favors. Even the musicians whose music was part of the case are embarrassed by the amount. . . . the RIAA would love to settle the lawsuit for some lower amount so it can run around touting the ‘risks’of file sharing without having people laugh outloud when hearing that someone had to pay $1.92 million for potentially sharing 24 songs that could be bought for $1 each.”

And Tennenbaum quite plainly had the ability to minimize damages through settlement rather than by means of Nesson’s tactic of going to trial. In February, Ars Technica reported that the “RIAA’s initial offer to settle, made way back in 2003, was for $3,500. Joel offered $500, which was declined. After the case went to court in 2007, the judge ordered the parties to settle and work it out between themselves. Joel offered $5,000. The RIAA demanded $10,500.”

And yet Nesson, realizing that “there was little chance of victory on the merits” and that the only viable way of representing his client’s best interests was to minimize the amount of his liability, failed to settle a case that at most would have cost his client $10,500 (assuming, contrary to any notion of common negotiating sense, that the RIAA would not have moved off of its last offer).

The Harvard Law Record’s story goes on to state that “the evidence presented by the RIAA . . . made it look like Tenenbaum blamed others and lied,” thereby interfering “with his effort to appear credible and sympathetic.” The problem is that the evidence didn’t merely make it “look like” Tenenbaum lied. He admitted in trial that had lied in sworn statements he had made before trial that he had not used peer-to-peer file sharing networks to download and upload recordings.

I’ve said it again and again. I’m no fan of the RIAA. The recording industry’s business and legal responses to the technological revolution that has deprived them of their former monopoly on the means of mass producing and distributing recorded music have been, to my legal and business mind, idiotic. But Nesson was Tenenbaum’s lawyer. His professional judgment as a lawyer was that any legal defense to the RIAA’s claims had little chance of success and that the best lawyering job he could do for his Tenenbaum was to minimize the damages he would be liable for. Nesson clearly had the opportunity to do so. That he passed up that opportunity in a quixotic fight for a principle might be something a lot of people admire, but it’s terrible lawyering.

The inexorable trend toward free access to court documents

I mentioned last week that Google Scholar can now be used to find case law. It’s real progress.Court documents, after all, are public documents, so it sometimes seems a bit frustrating that the only reliable way to do legal research is through private systems. As Wired’s Threat Level explains, “West [Publishing], and its competitor, Lexis Nexis, buy court data in bulk, reformat it and add proprietary citation codes. They then license the database of public documents at high rates to libraries, law firms and government agencies. Even the U.S. Court system pays West’s high license fees to access public court documents that West purchased from it.”

To make matters worse, the court system’s database, PACER, doesn’t work well: “the search function is intricate and inflexible, and lacks a way for users to be notified when a case is updated. And in the age of Google, it is absurd to charge citizens to search for the name of a person in a lawsuit. Even looking at the docket sheet — a short form list of all actions in a given case — costs $.08 a page.”

The ability to copy and disseminate documents instantaneously, of course, is breaking this system down.  In addition to Google Scholar, a “Firefox plug-in called RECAP, created by Princeton students, uploads court documents to a public archive any time a user goes into th e system, while programmer Aaron Swartz took advantage of a pilot program offering free access to download 18 million court documents (that earned him an FBI investigation).”

I’ve got mixed feelings about court dockets in their entirety being freely available via the internet (as opposed to, say, the documents courts themselves produce). Dissemination of documents produced without thought to a worldwide audience can cause serious misunderstandings. But technology and economics seem to be inexorable forces — just ask the music industry: try as it might, it isn’t going to recreate a world in which it held a monopoly on the ability to produce and distribute recorded music. And it’s probably better after all that the public gets for free the court documents it produces.

Breathlessly waiting for Murdoch to be sued . . . or wither on the web?

The Kwika Entertainment Blog (reprinting a piece from the Huffington Post) breathlessly announces that “if Microsoft and [Rupert Murdoch's] News Corp. go forward with a deal whereby News Corp. demands that Google stop indexing its websites, don’t be surprised if it leads to one of the most important copyright lawsuits in history.”

Don’t bet on it.

Google’s display of snippets from News Corp’s web pages for search engine purposes is almost certainly fair use. Can you imagine a Google snippet ever serving as a substitute for the original? If not, then the snippet is fair use. And copying the entire site for the sake of creating the snippet is fair use too.

The idiotic part of Murdoch’s move would be that, assuming Google allows Murdoch’s publications to “opt-out” of Google (as Google does for any site — all you have to do is insert some code into your site to exclude your site from Google’s indexing), the result will be that Murdoch’s publications will lose all that traffic Google generates. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Murdoch has always had the option to opt out of Google. The other stupid player here might be Microsoft — why pay to index something that will only be losing readership?

Can we force a prisoner to be medicated in order to be competent enough to be executed?

Truly only Franz Kafka could do justice to some of the questions that arise in our justice system. In Singleton v. Norris, 319 F.3d 1018 (8th Cir. 2003), the defendant argued that he could not be executed because he was not mentally competent and that he could not be forced to take medication to make him medically competent because to do so would make him eligible for execution and therefore could by no means be in his “best medical interest.” The 8th Circuit disagreed, requiring the question whether the medication to make the defendant competent  to be answered “without regard to whether there [was] a pending date of execution.” Id. at 1026. Both the death sentence and involuntary medication regime had been lawfully imposed. The defendant thus could no longer assert either a life interest nor a liberty interest.

Now, though, the North Carolina Criminal Law Blog suggests that more recent U.S. Supreme Court precedents “may collectively stand for the notion that the execution of an inmate who is competent only by virtue of forced medication might violate the Eighth Amendment’s evolving standards of decency.”

I find the suggestion encouraging, but I am skeptical. We seem loathe to find reasons not to execute people these days.

The Amen Break: 40 years of remixing a drum break; but now ownership is being asserted over it (and not by the creators)

You can now use Google Scholar to find case law.

This is a terrific new innovation. Today, from Google:

Starting today, we’re enabling people everywhere to find and read full text legal opinions from U.S. federal and state district, appellate and supreme courts using Google Scholar. You can find these opinions by searching for cases (like Planned Parenthood v. Casey), or by topics (like desegregation) or other queries that you are interested in. For example, go to Google Scholar, click on the “Legal opinions and journals” radio button, and try the query separate but equal. Your search results will include links to cases familiar to many of us in the U.S. such as Plessy v. Ferguson and Brown v. Board of Education, which explore the acceptablity of “separate but equal” facilities for citizens at two different points in the history of the U.S. But your results will also include opinions from cases that you might be less familiar with, but which have played an important role.

Those naive little innocents may be a lot smarter than you, Mr. Prosecutor.

The range between online fluency and online ignorance is remarkable these days. It is largely, though certainly not entirely, generational. One example of this gap in fluency was the discovery by one of my more technically proficient students in a case we read in my Contracts course of ignorance regarding the technical implications of an online transaction. The ignorance, in my student’s opinion, undermined entirely the judge’s reasoning.

Ars Technica brings up another example, this one perhaps disclosing the naivety of a prosecutor:

Rodney Bradford, a 19-year-old Brooklyn resident, was arrested last month for allegedly robbing a man at gunpoint. This, in itself, was not a very newsworthy event—until his defense lawyer discovered that Bradford had made an update to his Facebook profile at the time of the robbery. Bradford had insisted that he was at his father’s Harlem apartment at the time, and that the update was made from there. When the district attorney verified the claims with Bradford’s father and stepmother and the IP information with Facebook, the charges against Bradford were dropped.

But, of course, “it’s obvious to everyone . . . that the Facebook posting could have been made by someone else, and there would be no way to truly verify who was sitting in front of the computer at the time.” As John Jay College of Criminal Justice law instructor Joseph Pollini points out, it might not be sufficient for the prosecutor to shrug off the possibility simply because the alibi is a teenager’s — teenagers likely know better than anyone how to construct such alibis (and that older people often fail to see through them):

Some of the brightest people on the Internet are teenagers. They know the Internet better than a lot of people. Why? Because they use it all the time.

Kids need to learn a lot, but they can teach us a lot too.

The information and communication revolution wrought by the internet is, among other things, a generational divider. While one generation bemoans the threat of the internet to newspapers and books, a new generation — the one I teach — appears to do the vast majority of its reading online. It is of course not all a matter of the younger generation having aptitudes for a new environment we old people resist adapting to. There is as much lost as is gained. (One of these days I’ll explore the loss I’ve noticed in researching skills, the ability to ferret out information that is not easily accessible or even immediately recognizable as important.)

But there is so much that is of great use in the new environment that too many of my contemporaries (and, also, too many of my students) don’t take advantage of. Social Media Law Student is a terrific site for helping us all find and learn how to use new tools. It’s run and written by law students. Yana Siganur writes today’s lead article, in which she takes the opportunity “to remind everyone of the efficiency that is Google” in a well-written and concise guide to a number of tools available from Google that can our professional lives easier.

Blackberry as ball and chain.

When I left practice, the firm I worked for, like every one I knew of, was still too paranoid about security to be online. And I didn’t have a cell phone. I should be grateful. Technology is, like every advance, both a blessing and a curse. I hate when I have lunch with my former colleagues and their attention is on the Blackberry under the table. But at least I understand the dilemma they face. At Quinn Emanuel (the firm a good friend recently moved to), Above the Law reports, a partner’s email made very clear to all that one is on call every waking hour, adding in for good measure a firm-wide swipe at an associate who had actually done a good job but hadn’t checked his email after 7:30 p.m. The email, in part, reads as follows:

You should check your emails early and often. That not only means when you are in the office, it also means after you leave the office as well. Unless you have very good reason not to (for example when you are asleep, in court or in a tunnel), you should be checking your emails every hour. One of the last things you should do before you retire for the night is to check your email. That is why we give you blackberries. I can assure you that all of our clients expect you to be checking your emails often. I am not asking you to do something we do not do ourselves. I can assure you that John Quinn, Peter Calamari, Mike Carlinsky, Faith Gay, Fred Lorig, etc. all check their emails often.

Yesterday I was working with a relatively new associate on a project which both he and I knew was a rush. It was for a relatively new client whom we were trying to impress. The associate did a nice job under pressure. Before I left the office at about 7:30 I sent an email to this associate asking him to perform a task—fax a draft letter for review and comment. I assumed the task was done. Turns out the associate left the office and did not check his emails until this morning. I assumed the task had been completed. It had not been. In this case it was no harm no foul, but I think we can all imagine scenarios when this could be a disaster.

Why are you working harder for less? Scientific Management, management consulting, and leveraged buyouts – a century of being conned.

I described leveraged buyouts the other day — in connection with the demise of the maker of the Simmons Beauty Rest Mattress — as a symptom of why we don’t trust Wall Street. You might wonder why, if I’m right, we allow people again and again to “buy” companies by borrowing enormous sums of money — in essence, we allow the buyers to suck money out of successful companies for their own benefit in the same way we allowed home owners in a rising housing market to suck money out of their homes by means of home equity loans.

It’s perfectly clear why we allowed homeowners to do that — all involved figured the market would continue to rise at least until they could make their money and get out. But why do we let this keep happening on a much larger scale on Wall Street?

I hadn’t considered the question specifically at the moment I wrote that post about Simmons. It was enough for me that throughout the 25 years of my career both practicing (in connection with, among many things, leveraged buyouts) and teaching I’ve seen the phenomenon again and again. But this week I came across Jill Lepore’s article “Not So Fast” in the New Yorker, an article which asks the question, “Scientific management started as a way to work. How did it become a way of life?” Lepore’s article is about the rise in the early 20th Century of “Scientific Management,” the foundation of modern “Management Consulting.” Scientific Management was created by Fredrick Winslow Taylor, who, as Lepore writes, sold himself as someone able to make businesses more efficient:

Speedy Taylor, as he was called, had invented a new way to make money. He would get himself hired by some business; spend a while watching people work, stopwatch and slide rule in hand; write a report telling them how to do their work faster; and then submit an astronomical bill for his services. He is the “Father of Scientific Management” (it says so on his tombstone), and, by any rational calculation, the grandfather of management consulting.

The problem, as Lepore notes, is that Taylor was a fraud, and Taylorism’s grandchild, management consulting, is as well.

What does all this have to do with leveraged buyouts? Plenty. The entire rationale of the leveraged buyout is that the buyers can take a company with a lot of unrealized value and realize it. How? By making the company more “efficient.” The debt taken on to buy the company (and to reward the “buyers” with profits along the way) will, the argument goes, easily be paid off given the as yet unrealized efficiencies. Thus, we’ve had decades of “downsizing” (massive layoffs), “consolidations” (elimination of competing businesses), and arguments that advances in productivity brought about by our new technologies would redound to the benefit of all (when the only benefit would redound to whoever could pull the money out quickest).

We’ve been had.

At least we have one consolation — none of us have been alone in being conned. The focus of Lepore’s work is Louis Brandeis, someone I’ve always thought was a very bright guy and who against all evidence remained convinced his entire life that Scientific Management would benefit the working person:

Neither unions nor businesses have lived up to Brandeis’s optimism. “If the fruits of Scientific Management are directed into the proper channels,” he wrote, “the workingman will get not only a fair share, but a very large share, of the industrial profits arising from improved industry.” Lately, that share has been going to shareholders and C.E.O.s. Home and work, separated since the first stirrings of the Industrial Revolution, have been growing back together again: BlackBerry on the nightstand, toaster in the photocopy room. Efficiency was meant to lead to a shorter workday, but, in the final two decades of the twentieth century, the average American added a hundred and sixty-four hours of work in the course of a year; that’s a whole extra month’s time, but not, typically, a month’s worth of either happiness minutes or civic participation. Eating dinner standing up while nursing a baby, making a phone call to the office, and supervising a third grader’s homework is not, I don’t think, the hope of democracy.

You’ll also find worthwhile on this topic the New York Times video series entitled “Flipped: How Private Equity Dealmakers Can Win While Their Companies Lose“