Dear Authors Alliance Members, Friends, and Allies,

It is with a heavy heart that I am announcing my departure from Authors Alliance. For me, the development is bittersweet—in a few weeks, I will be starting a new job at a law firm where I’ll focus on litigation and developing my advocacy skills in a new way. I’m excited for this next chapter, but I’ll sorely miss being an Authors Alliance staff member and working to advance the interests of our members, a dedicated and engaged community of authors who care deeply about access to knowledge and culture. 

My time at Authors Alliance has seen a lot of change, both on an organizational level and in terms of the world around us. I joined as a staff attorney in late 2020, during a stormy political season and in the midst of a public health crisis. Working with former executive director, Brianna Schofield, I got to know this community and began to understand what mattered to you. I wrote one of our guides, Third-Party Permissions and How to Clear Them, drawing on my past experience working as a literary agent in addition to what I had learned about copyright law and the particular needs of our members. I also spent nine months as our interim executive director before Dave joined us back in 2022. Along the way, with the blessing and guidance of our outstanding board of directors, Authors Alliance began to focus more on policy and scale back our education work. Back in 2014, there was a dearth of these kinds of educational resources for authors, but that has changed over time, particularly with the increasing presence of scholarly communications offices to guide academic scholars.  

This week is my last as an employee of Authors Alliance, and next week will be my first as a regular member. During my years with Authors Alliance, I’ve been asked a lot of times “who can join” and whether a person “qualified” as an author. Unlike other authors’ organizations, we don’t gatekeep when it comes to membership. If you—like me—write, for business or for pleasure, and you—like me—believe in our mission, Authors Alliance would love to have you join as a member. And what I love about this organization is that it truly does want to be responsive to the needs of its members. Our two amicus briefs in the Hachette Books v. Internet Archive litigation (that Dave and Kyle Courtney wrote about just last week) were based on a survey we conducted of members and other authors, because we saw how author interests were taking a back seat to the interests of large publishers in the litigation. I wrote both of these briefs, and it was an absolute pleasure to use my legal training to share this important perspective with the courts. 

We created our most recent guide, Writing About Real People, because we so often heard from nonfiction authors writing about real people who had questions about whether they might be exposing themselves to legal risk. The same is true for the permissions guide—it was partially inspired by the fact that a guest blog post on clearing rights for images had been one of our most popular of all time, indicating the need for this kind of resource. We began conducting advocacy work in the realm of AI and copyright because it was clear that generative AI had the potential to reshape authorship and intellectual property laws, and we thought our voice could be useful as a sensible, measured one that remained optimistic about technology and innovation. 

On a personal level, being an attorney for Authors Alliance has given me both a strong sense of job satisfaction and the feeling that my work is helping people and making a difference in the world (something many lawyers can only dream of!). Whether it is seeing our views shape the development of the laws and regulations governing information policy, or hearing from an author who got their rights back or successfully negotiated with their publisher to retain their copyright, the effects of our work have reminded me that our organization really matters. It’s one I have been honored to be a part of for the past three and a half years. Please feel free to reach out over email (for now, you can reach me at rachel@authorsalliance.org) in the next few days, or add me on twitter or LinkedIn—I’d love to stay engaged with this community, even if I’m no longer involved professionally. I also plan to attend our 10th Anniversary celebration in May, and hope to see many of our members and allies there!

Fondly,

Rachel

Dave Hansen and Kyle Courtney jointly authored this post. They are also the authors of a White Paper on Controlled Digital Lending of Library Books. We are not, as the Publishers claim in their brief on page 13, a “cadre of boosters.” We wrote the paper independently as part of our combined decades of work on libraries and access to knowledge.

Earlier today the publishers (Hachette, Harper Collins, John Wiley, and Penguin Random House) filed their reply brief on appeal in their long-running lawsuit against Internet Archive, which challenges (among other things) the practice of controlled digital lending. 

For the months after the decision, we had been observing all the hot takes, cheers, jeers, and awkward declarations about the case, the Internet Archive itself, and Controlled Digital Lending (CDL).

This post is not part of that fanfare. Here, we want to identify a few critical issues that the publishers focus on in their brief, including some questionable fair use analysis that they repeat from the district court below. Much of the brief is framed in heated rhetoric that may cause alarm, but much like publishers’ announcements about interlibrary loan, e-reserves, or document delivery, we believe controlled digital lending is here to stay, regardless of the lower court’s poor copyright analysis and current publisher’s brief.

Framing the Question

As is often the case, the parties disagree on what this case is actually about. For its part, Internet Archive says in their “Statement of the Issue on Appeal” that the question is  “whether Internet Archive’s controlled digital lending is fair use.” Publishers, on the other hand, reframe the question more broadly, which in combination with their arguments through the brief,  seems intended to not just kill IA’s implementation of controlled digital lending, but to encourage the court to rule in a way that would call into question all other library applications of CDL.. They say that the question is  “whether IA’s infringement of the Publishers’ Works is fair use based on IA’s CDL theories and practices.” 

This litigation, coordinated by the AAP,  seems to us an attempt to undermine what libraries have done for centuries: lend the books that they already lawfully own. Ironically, the opposition calls CDL a made-up theory created by a “cadre of boosters,” but in actuality, it’s the publishers’ licensing system that is a modern, made-up invention. The works themselves are unchanged, but the nature of digital delivery allows publishers to charge people in new ways. There is nothing in the Copyright Act that states ebook licensing is, or should be, the default way for libraries to acquire and lend books. 

Commercial vs. Non-Profit Use

One of the most criticized aspects of the decision below is the lower court’s conclusion that IA’s activities are commercial, as opposed to non-profit. The publisher’s brief enthusiastically embraces this conclusion, while also attempting to drive a wedge between IA’s lending and that of other libraries: “IA’s practices are distinctly commercial – especially in comparison to public and academic libraries.” 

The district court concluded that IA’s activity was commercial because it “stands to profit” through its partnership with Better World Books on its website, and by “us[ing] its Website to attract new members, solicit donations, and bolster its standing in the library community” (p. 26).

As many amici pointed out earlier in the appeal, the use of a nonprofit’s website to solicit donations is routine; it would be chilling for sites like Wikipedia, Project Gutenberg, Hathitrust and others (all of whom filed briefs in this case) to face heightened copyright liability just because they seek donations in combination with aspects of their sites that rely on a fair use assertion.  The publishers attempt to distance themselves from this absurd result (“The concern that Judge Koeltl’s analysis “would render virtually all nonprofit uses commercial” is wildly overblown”), but it is clear from the number and diversity of amici who filed to speak to just this issue that the concern is very real. 

As for Better World Books (BWB): BWB  is an online bookstore and a Certified B Corporation, meaning that it achieves high standards of social and environmental performance, transparency, and accountability. B Corps are committed to using business as a force for good in the world. According to its website, BWB donates books to nonprofit organizations, including the Internet Archive. As of November 2019, IA and BWB have a partnership to digitize books for preservation purposes. 

The focus on the supposedly commercial relationship with Better World Books (a used book reseller) seems to us a stretch based on the facts. The publishers’ brief makes a big deal of Better World Books (referencing them over 20 times in the brief), and argues that IA’s use is commercial because a)  IA encourages readers to purchase books through links on its site to Better World Books, and b) Better World Books donates some funds back to IA.  The first point is perplexing–one would think they’d be pleased that readers are encouraged to purchase copies of their books–even if on the used market. But the later point about BetterWorld Books’ commercial influence on IA’s operation is just not rooted in the facts of the case. As IA laid out in its opening brief, it has only received $5,561.41 from Better World Books in the relevant time frame.  That’s an infinitesimally small drop in the bucket compared to the costs that IA has borne to digitize and lend books for no monetary return from readers. It’s hard to see how such an amount could be construed to tilt IA’s entire operation into a commercial activity. 

For anyone who has actually worked on such projects, it is clear that IA is not archiving or lending books for commercial purposes. The idea that there is money to be made in doing so is laughable. Instead, it is providing access to knowledge and cultural heritage. This fundamental point somehow got lost on the publishers on the road to enormous profits.

eBooks vs. Digitized Books

There are lots of nuances that got lost in the decision below, which we believe were helpfully addressed by amici filings earlier in this appeal (e.g., the privacy implications of licensed ebooks vs. CDL copies lent by libraries).  The publishers seem happy to gloss over the details again in this brief, particularly when it comes to the differences between licensed ebooks and those that are lent out with CDL. 

First, the publisher’s brief makes clear they really don’t like it when books are available for free.. They use the word 33 times (about every other page of the brief)! Many of the references obscure what “free” really means though –  for example, asserting that  “Two Publishers believe that 39-50% of American ebook consumers read their ebooks for free from libraries rather than paying for their own commercial ebooks” (emphasis added) while ignoring the exorbitant costs and other burdens placed on libraries and the public to fund that licensed access. This is a major part of why libraries have responded both by embracing CDL and by advocating for laws that would require fair licensing terms for ebooks. . 

Second, as far as market harm goes, the Publisher’s assert that “IA offered the Publishers’ library and consumer customers a free competing substitute to the authorized ebook editions” essentially arguing that “you can’t compete with free.” But, that is just not true.  Examples are trivially easy to conjure up open source software vs. Microsoft or iOS. How often do you run into someone who uses Libre Open Office, or Ubuntu? And of course in creative industries, we’ve seen this kind of model take hold in numerous areas, including book publishing, with “freemium” models.’

That’s because products that are free often offer a different user experience than those that aren’t. Usually when someone opts to pay, they’re paying for an enhanced experience. The same holds true of books scanned for CDL vs. licensed ebooks. CDL books are just that – they are digitized physical books. They don’t have the nice, crisp text of licensed ebooks, nor the interactive features. You can’t highlight, or change the font, or look up a word by touching it, or do any of the myriad of functions that you can with an ebook. 

That a library is loaning and controlling those copies is also a major distinguishing factor, because borrowing a book from a library (along with all the special privacy protections one receives) provides a vastly different reading environment than one in which vendors can scrape, process and sell data about your reading experience. Notably, the publishers did not engage with this argument. 

“IA refuses to pay the customary price and join the Publishers’ thriving market for authorized library ebooks…”

Good gravy! According to the publishers, libraries should be forced to pay over and over again for the same book, to join a market for which there is no evidence that they are harming. 

The publishers’ devote a large portion of their brief – nearly 20 pages– to arguing about market harm. Most of it comes down to the assertion that mere fact of the existence of a digital book market means that  CDL must negatively impact the rightsholders’ profits (despite no empirical evidence of market harm). The lower court decision stated that IA has the “burden to show a lack of market harm” (p. 43), and concluded (without reference to meaningful evidence) that “that harm here is evident” (p. 44), an assumption which the publishers are happy to rest on. 

There is a genuinely important legal question raised here about which party needs to prove what when it comes to market harm. The publisher’s brief relies heavily on the idea that IA bears the burden on every point of its fair use defense, especially market harm. But as IA points out in its opening brief, 

“Although the Supreme Court has stated fair use is an affirmative defense for which defendants bear the burden (Campbell, 510 U.S. at 1177), it has also suggested this burden may apply differently to noncommercial uses than commercial ones. Sony stated that noncommercial cases require “a showing by a preponderance of the evidence that some meaningful likelihood of future harm exists.” 464 U.S. at 417; see Princeton Univ. Press v. Mich. Document Servs., Inc., 99 F.3d 1381, 1385- 86 (6th Cir. 1996) (“The burden of proof as to market effect rests with the copyright holder if the challenged use is of a ‘noncommercial’ nature.”). 

Conclusion

The brief is predictably hyperbolic, and continues to refuse to allow for any room for digital lending based on a misreading, in our view, of precedents such as Sony, TVEyes, and ReDigi. But, CDL is not some form of library-sanctioned piracy. CDL is based in copyright, fair use, and the public mission of libraries, while also broadening access to the books that library systems spend billions of dollars to collect and maintain for the public—including long-neglected, out-of-print books with enormous social and scholarly value and books for which commercial ebook licenses are not available.

During the pandemic, the importance of digital library access became strikingly apparent. It is unfortunate that the Publishers chose that moment of national emergency to sue a non-profit library for loaning books digitally. CDL simply seeks to preserve the library’s long-established and vital mission to collect and lend books in an increasingly licensed-access digital world.

We’ve been tracking for a few years the new copyright small claims court known as the Copyright Claims Board. My last update was in September when I posted a summary of a paper I wrote with Katie Fortney summarizing data about the first year of operations of the court (thanks entirely to Katie for doing the hard work of extracting that data and sharing it in an easy-to-understand format). 

As explained then, the CCB has been slow in processing cases; it only entered a final judgment on the merits in one case when I last wrote. It has now issued a total of 18 final determinations, about half of which are default determinations (cases where the respondent failed to appear or refused to participate in the CCB process). The facts for most of these cases are not very interesting, but two of the most recent caught my attention. 

Oakes v. Heart of Gold Pageant System

The first case, Oakes v. Heart of Gold Pageant System Inc., highlights a concern from opponents of the CCB when it was being debated in Congress. Namely, the CCB’s ability to make default determinations could be a trap for the unwary defendants who don’t understand what the CCB is, what a case before it could mean for them, or what their rights are to opt out of a CCB proceeding. 

The facts are unspectacular: Oakes, a professional photographer represented by Higbee & Associates, filed a CCB complaint against Heart of Gold and its owner, Angel Jameson, for using photographs taken by Oakes on Heart of Gold’s Facebook page and in materials for events it sponsored. Oakes originally filed the claim in July 2022 and then refiled it in August 2022 with some corrections. Oakes then provided the CCB with the required proof of service (proof that Oakes had adequately informed Heart of Gold and Jameson of the CCB claim) in October 2022. 

At this point, the ball was in Heart of Gold and Jameson’s court; she could either respond and defend her use, or (if done within 60 days of service) opt out of the CCB proceeding altogether. Unfortunately for her, she did neither, which resulted in a default determination against her for $4,500. 

We learn in the final determination a little more about Jameson’s lack of participation. As the CCB recounts in its final default determination: 

“At multiple points in this procedural history, Jameson has contacted the CCB, and after communicating with staff, has affirmed each time her intent to not participate in this proceeding.”

“Jameson initially contacted the Board in response to this Zoom link, expressing her disbelief that the Board is a government tribunal.”

“Jameson then sent another email in response to the First Default, requesting an ‘official day in court.’”

“In a subsequent call with CCB staff in March, Jameson indicated that she would not participate.”

“Shortly after the order scheduling the hearing, Jameson contacted the U.S. Copyright Office’s Public Information Office, who placed her in contact with CCB staff. In a follow-up call, CCB staff again explained the proceeding and Jameson again affirmed that she would not participate in the proceeding.”

Jameson missed her opportunity to opt out early in the case – she had a sixty-day window to do so, as defined by CCB regulations. So, her protests later were ineffective to opt out, even though it seems clear that she did not want her case to be heard by the CCB. 

Joe Hand Promotions v. Dawson 

A second default determination case offers a slightly different view of how the CCB treats defaults. The facts are similarly straightforward: Joe Hand is a company that “specializes in commercially licensing premier sporting events to commercial locations such as bars, restaurants, lounges, clubhouses, and similar establishments.” Joe Hand had obtained the exclusive right to sell pay-per-view access to a boxing event–” Deontay Wilder vs. Tyson Fury II,” to commercial establishments, including bars. Joe Hand provided evidence that a California bar, “Bottoms Up,” had shown the match without permission. 

Joe Hand (a frequent filer with the CCB, with 33 cases to its name) ran into a problem in this case, however, because it didn’t actually file its case against Bottoms Up, but instead against the individual that is listed on the bar’s liquor license and ownership documents, Mary Dawson. Even in Dawson’s absence, the CCB was unwilling to rubber-stamp Joe Hand’s claims against her. The final determination explained, 

“Beyond the conclusory and clearly boilerplate allegations in the Claim that Dawson (and now-dismissed respondent Giglio) ‘owned, operated, maintained, and controlled the commercial business known as Bottoms Up Bar & Grill’ and ‘had a right and ability to supervise the activities of the Establishment on the date of the Program and had an obvious and direct financial interest in the activities of the Establishment on the date of the Program’ (Dkt. 1), Claimant offers absolutely no information linking Respondent to the infringement.” 

I will spare you the details, but the CCB went on to cite case after case explaining why courts have routinely rejected such boilerplate claims, and required plaintiffs to at least allege meaningful facts connecting an individual to an act of infringement.  Even in this default case where Dawson was not present to defend herself, the CCB put in the effort on her behalf. 

Takeaways

I have a few observations. In the first case, given that Jameson clearly did not want her case heard before the CCB, I think it would have been fair for the CCB to allow her a second chance to opt out. At least on the record we have available, there is no indication that the CCB offered her that chance.  Although the normal opt-out period extends only sixty days after service, the CCB opt-out regulations also state that “the Board may extend the 60-day period to opt out in exceptional circumstances and in the interests of justice.” 

It seems to me, given the newness of the CCB system, the small number of cases filed to date, and the relative lack of awareness among most people that the CCB is a legitimate government forum (Jameson expressed such doubt herself), the “interests of justice” may well dictate a more flexible approach at least at the outset of operations of the CCB. 

The CCB has demonstrated an extraordinary willingness to offer helpful guidance, flexibility, and multiple opportunities to claimants, and so respondents may have expected a similar approach to help them along through the process. At least in this case, we see a more stringent approach. An obvious takeaway for respondents then is to pay attention to notices about CCB claims and associated deadlines, and opt-out early on in the process if they think they don’t want their case heard there. 

The Dawson case, however, does show that the CCB isn’t willing to let claimants make unsubstantiated claims against absent respondents. Though Joe Hand is surely familiar with the process and it would have been easy for the CCB to accept its barebones allegations against Dawson as true, the CCB made the case itself–with ample legal support–that even claims against absent respondents require claimants to make a real case. 

Overall, these are just two cases,  so I don’t want to read into them too much. But it’s already looking like a large portion of CCB cases will be defaults (10 out of the 18 final determinations to date, and more than half of the existing active cases are trending in that direction). So, it’s good to keep an eye on how the CCB will treat these types of cases, given the risks they pose for unwary and uninformed respondents.