Tag: canada

What is a Canadian Book? And Why Should I Buy One?

A display table covered with various books, featuring a sign that says 'Read the North.' The books include a mix of fiction and non-fiction, many with Canadian-themed stickers.

Image: Author

Walk into any bookstore in Canada today, from an Indigo big box store to a small indie outlet, and if you aren’t smacked in the face with books covered in prominent maple leaf logos, or a banner proclaiming “Canadian!”, then you must be living on a different planet from me. Of course, the same applies in your local grocery store where—despite occasional mislabelling—consumers are apparently more than ready to choose Canadian produce at the expense of Florida oranges or California raspberries. If you run a travel agency, it’s better to advertise trips to Newfoundland than Disneyland. The federal government is encouraging the trend with its new “Buy Canadian” procurement policies. If consumers need help, there is even a “Made in CA” (Canada, that is, not California) website, which sustains itself financially by recommending Canadian products and then earning revenue from readers’ clicks on featured links. The surge in Canadian consumer nationalism is one facet of Canadians’ response to Donald Trump’s “make Canada the 51st state” nonsense, and retailers would be foolish to ignore the trend. Booksellers are no exception. But the question is whether this sudden discovery of the virtues of Canadian (or supposedly Canadian) products is having any marked difference on the sale of Canadian books. This leads to the next big question, “What is a Canadian book?’.

That is a longstanding debate on which there are many views. I recently saw a pile of “Canadian” books at Indigo, among which was anti-copyright maven Cory Doctorow’s Enshittification. A Canadian work? Yes, Doctorow was born in Canada but has taken out UK citizenship and has lived in the US for a decade. The publisher is a print of MacMillan, which was British owned but is now German controlled. However, I guess Doctorow is as Canadian as John Kenneth Galbraith or William Shatner. Why shouldn’t Star Trek Memories qualify as Canadian literature? No country has a claim on outer space in the 23rd Century. Is a book Canadian if it is written by someone who is, or was, a Canadian? Do they have to be a citizen or does a recent immigrant qualify? Does it have to be set in Canada? Does it need to be published by a Canadian publisher? If it is published by a Canadian publisher (like my book, In Defence of Copyright, published in 2023 by Cormorant Books—apologies for the shameless plug), does this make it “more Canadian”? Is the fact that foreign owned publishers control around 95% of the Canadian publishing market in 2025 a problem? If so, what to do about it, and how? Should the best Canadian writers eschew foreign publishers and instead seek out domestic publishing houses, even if this means they will earn less? There is a lot to consider.

The evidence suggests there has been an uptick in demand for Canadian books in Canada. Publishers’ Weekly reports that print book sales in Canada climbed to CAD$1.15 billion (around USD800 million) in 2025, a gain of 4.1% over 2024. Many of these books were not Canadian although books by Canadian authors accounted for 14% of unit print sales in 2025, up from 12% in both 2024 and 2023. Fourteen percent of $1.15 billion is about $160 million, not small change. However, most of these books by Canadian authors were published by the “Big Five” (Penguin RandomHouse, MacMillan, HarperCollins, Hachette, and Simon&Shuster). All are foreign owned (two German, one French, and two American). Some of the Canadian works were released as international editions, some by the domestic Canadian operations of the Big Five. The most well-known Canadian authors, including Nobel Prize Winner, Alice Munro, and Booker/Giller prizewinner Margaret Atwood (The Handmaid’s Tale, The Testaments, The Blind Assassin and others), were/are all published by large international publishing houses, as you would expect. (Munro and Atwood are published in Canada by McClelland&Stewart, owned by Penguin RandomHouse). Even Prime Minister Mark Carney’s bestseller, Values, is published by a foreign owned publisher, a Penguin RandomHouse subsidiary. Is this a problem? To some, such as Richard Stursberg, it is.

Stursberg has just released his latest book, an essay really (under 100 pages) entitled Lament for a Literature: The Collapse of Canadian Book Publishing, published by independent Canadian publisher Sutherland House. Stursberg knows whereof he speaks. He has been involved in the bureaucracy and politics of Canadian media policy for many years, as Executive Director of Telefilm Canada, Chairman of the Canadian Television Fund and as Head of English Services at the CBC, among others. “Lament for a Literature” (a takeoff on George Grant’s 1965 essay “Lament for a Nation”) has already received a fair amount of publicity, through interviews (MediaPolicy.ca; Canadian Affairs), and commentary (Globe and Mail). There seems to be broad agreement he has put his finger on a problem and a Canadian weakness, but the question remains what to do about it? There is a lot less consensus on possible solutions.

Stursberg’s approach is what many would consider draconian. Increase subsidies substantially and remove the Canada Council’s adjudicative role over what should qualify for a subsidy. Make the subsidies open ended and tied to production, like film credits. While this will be criticized as fiscally irresponsible, no-one seems to object to film credits (which are direct subsidies) because they support jobs in film production. Publishing supports jobs too, although not as many and not as wide a variety. So, maybe an argument can be made for subsidizing jobs in Canadian publishing. (However, to follow the film credit analogy fully, Canada would have to provide book credits to foreign publishers as it does to Foreign Location Shooting in Canada). Stursberg would also manipulate the market in various ways through regulation and a Canadian book law. This would require a foreign rights holder wanting to distribute a foreign title in Canada being required to offer the distribution rights to a Canadian publisher. This is easier said than done because price will be the key. The international publisher will want maximum return, while the Canadian publisher will want to cash in by selling a title they did not develop. Giving Canadian publishers a share of the international pie is the intent of the policy; to provide a market subsidy to Canadian independent publishers by giving them regulated access to foreign best-sellers. That is supposed to provide them a war chest with which to fund the development of Canadian authors. It is similar to a book version of various broadcasting industry interventions, such as simultaneous substitution and aspects of the Online Streaming Act.

There are various downsides to this kind of market intervention, not the least of which is violent objection from the US government, but these days they are objecting to just about everything that Canada does, from Mark Carney’s trip to China (isn’t Donald J. going there soon?) to the Online Streaming and Online News Acts, to dairy supply management to the price that Canadian kitchen cabinets are sold in the US, the latter qualifying (in the eyes of the US Administration) as a national security threat allowing them to invoke Section 232 of the US Trade Act. A heavily interventionist policy could also lead to market distortions, resulting in unauthorized foreign editions of best-sellers being smuggled into Canada, much as pizza cheese from the US has become a black market commodity as a result of Canada’s dairy supply management policy.

Stursberg has other suggestions, such as legislating a fixed retail price for a given work in all bookstores, thus preventing Amazon and Indigo, for example, from offering discounts that indie bookstores may not be able to afford, as well as requiring that online retailers charge a delivery fee. So much for Amazon Prime. That will be popular with readers, I am sure. Public schools and libraries would be required to source all their books through accredited bookstores. To be accredited, a store would need to carry a minimum number of Canadian titles. Public institutions could not source from online retailers. That is another sure way to antagonize institutional purchasers, although I am sure it could be argued it is for the “greater good”. But all such bureaucratic market intervention policies cause collateral damage and often unintended consequences. So, what is to be done?

In my experience, reading remains remarkably popular both for entertainment and intellectual growth, in Canada as elsewhere. Canadians should be naturally interested in their own stories played out in Canadian settings, but these stories need to compete with what’s available in the big, wide world. Relevance and excellence (along with marketing) are the way to promote a domestic literature. I refuse to read a book simply because it is “Canadian” (whatever that may mean), but I will likely pick up a book that piques my interest and is well written, especially if it is Canadian. Perhaps the newfound nationalism of “Buy Canadian” will provide a boost to emerging and established Canadian writers. Some of them will get picked up by the Canadian imprints of the Big Five, some will be discovered by Canadian indie publishers and still others will self-publish. I am optimistic that despite the dominance of the Canadian publishing market by foreign publishers through their Canadian subsidiaries, good Canadian stories will continue to be published. A stronger indie publishing sector would be welcome and. in this regard, industrial rather than cultural subsidies may provide a partial response. In the meantime, I am sure that Canadians will continue to debate, “What is a Canadian book?” Whatever it is, we need to look beyond the Maple Leaf label on the cover.  

© Hugh Stephens, 2026. All Rights Reserved.

Broadcasting Policy Beyond Broadcasting: Canada’s Online Streaming Act and the U.S. Response

By Christine Rose Cooling

(This is an occasional guest post. I am delighted to publish this analysis by Christine Rose Cooling, whose bio you will find at the end of the post).

An illustration featuring a smartphone displaying digital media platforms, a clipboard with media and broadcast regulations, a gavel on a wooden block, and a computer screen with hands holding microphones, labeled 'Online Streaming Act'.

Image: Shutterstock.com (modified)

When then-Minister of Canadian Heritage Pablo Rodriguez introduced Bill C-11, the Online Streaming Act, in the House of Commons in February 2022, he invoked earlier optimism about the Internet as a space for democratic participation and cultural opportunity. This sentiment recalls John Perry Barlow’s 1996 “Declaration of the Independence of Cyberspace,” which infamously imagined the Internet as a space beyond the sovereignty of nation-states, where the “weary giants of flesh and steel” would have no power. That naïve idealism has since given way to emerging concern about the role of global streaming platforms in shredding Canada’s cultural fabric. Left unregulated, Rodriguez suggested, these services risk weakening Canadian sovereignty.

More than three decades after Canada’s last modernization of the Broadcasting Act in 1991, debates about Canadian broadcasting policy returned with renewed intensity. With Royal Assent granted in April 2023, the Online Streaming Act extends the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission’s (CRTC) regulatory authority to streaming services operating in Canada, requiring them to contribute to Canadian content (CanCon) production and support the discoverability of Canadian programming.

The Online Streaming Act represents both policy modernization and inertia in an effort to extend broadcasting policy beyond national broadcasting systems. Although the Act incorporates streaming platforms into the Broadcasting Act as “online undertakings,” these services differ fundamentally from traditional broadcasters—think spectrum allocation, scheduled programming, and territorially bounded signals.

Canada is not alone in attempting to retrofit twentieth-century broadcasting frameworks to the regulatory challenges posed by twenty-first-century streaming platforms. What distinguishes the Canadian case is the degree to which such efforts unfold within a trade environment shaped by structural dependence on access to U.S. markets, making Canadian cultural regulation unusually susceptible to bilateral pressure. Further, the Act operates within a volatile geopolitical arena in which platform regulation is being interpreted through the language of free trade and industrial competition rather than longstanding cultural logics.

Enter Stage Left: The U.S. Response

In June 2024, the CRTC announced that major online streaming services would be required to contribute five per cent of their Canadian revenues toward domestic production funds supporting Canadian and Indigenous content, including genres the streamers do not produce, such as news reporting. The decision has since been the subject of dispute by Apple, Amazon, and Spotify as well as the Motion Picture Association-Canada, though streamers will likely be prepared to pay some amount.

More recently, on March 19, 2026, Congressman Lloyd Smucker introduced the Protecting American Streaming and Innovation Act in the U.S. House of Representatives. This draft legislation, if adopted, would direct the U.S. Trade Representative (USTR) to investigate whether the Online Streaming Act discriminates against American streaming companies. The bill sets the stage for retaliatory action under Section 301(c) of the U.S. Trade Act of 1974 if such discrimination is found and if Canada does not remedy the discriminatory measures within 180 days, although use of Section 301 would violate the Canada–United States–Mexico Agreement (CUSMA).

Article 19.4 of CUSMA requires that countries treat digital products from other member states no less favourably than their own. In principle, this national treatment provision applies to streamers operating in Canada. However, Article 32.6 creates a broad exception for cultural industries, allowing Canada to adopt cultural policy measures affecting broadcasting and audiovisual production even if they conflict with the agreement. While specific U.S. industry interests have argued that Canada may need to rely on Article 32.6 to justify the measures it is taking under the Online Streaming Act, it is important to note that to date the U.S. government has not formally adopted this position. That said, the exemption does not eliminate the possibility of U.S. retaliation; indeed, it explicitly legitimizes it. Under CUSMA, the United States may respond with measures of equivalent commercial effect in any sector if it determines that Canadian cultural policies disadvantage American firms. Canada can, however, challenge whether Article 32.6 is applicable. Also, an argument can be made that the way in which the Online Streaming Act regulates streaming services is not discriminatory, i.e. it does not violate national treatment obligations.

Although Congressman Smucker’s Protecting American Streaming and Innovation Act may never see the light of day as it is but one of many bills introduced into Congress to highlight issues of concern to U.S. industry interests, it nonetheless renders the politics of broadcasting policy quite visible. Smucker’s unlikely counter-legislation—decrying the Online Streaming Act as an attack against U.S. companies, creators, and workers—makes it blatantly clear how debates about cultural regulation increasingly extend beyond national institutions. Such actions function less as the basis for dispute settlement than as policy posturing intended to exert bilateral pressure on Canada.

From Signals to Streaming

Canadian broadcasting policy has long been shaped by historical disputes, cultural tensions, and geopolitical pressures. From the early licensing of commercial radio stations in the 1920s to the establishment of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC) that we know (and at least some of us love) today, Canadian broadcasting policy developed not just as an industrial response to spectrum scarcity but also as cultural protectionism against American dominance over Canadian airwaves.

Conundrums aside, legacy regulatory strategies like Canadian content (CanCon) requirements and ownership rules remain measures through which broadcasting policy has sought to pursue cultural objectives beyond economic ones. The Online Streaming Act extends this analog-era regulatory philosophy into the digital age, transforming unresolved debates over the legitimacy of Canadian cultural regulation.

We should also remember that the transformation of broadcasting policy in Canada did not emerge suddenly with the Online Streaming Act. During the CRTC’s Let’s Talk TV hearings between 2013 and 2014, the Commission heard from Netflix representative Corie Wright who argued that online streaming services primarily supplemented rather than replaced traditional broadcasting services. Netflix declined to provide evidence supporting this claim, and the Commission ultimately ruled the argument as anecdotal. This line of uncertainty later informed the work of the Liberal-appointed Broadcasting and Telecommunications Legislative Review panel, whose 2020 report Canada’s Communications Future: Time to Act recommended restructuring communication legislation to reflect a new networked environment. Among its most consequential recommendations was the proposal to extend regulatory authority over online streaming services operating in Canada.

Concerns about the trade implications of regulating online streaming services are, likewise, not new at all. Early in 2020, Professor and Canada Research Chair in Internet and E-Commerce Law at the University of Ottawa, Michael Geist, warned that requiring foreign streaming services to contribute to Canadian production funds without equal access to those funds could invite retaliatory trade responses. Similar concerns surfaced in 2022 before the bill passed, when former U.S. Trade Representative Katherine Tai officially took notice of the Online Streaming Act during a CUSMA meeting with Canada’s former Minister of International Trade, Mary Ng.

Despite the unlikelihood of its adoption, Smucker’s Protecting American Streaming and Innovation Act represents less a sudden escalation than a continuation of a contested shift in how cultural regulation is interpreted both within and beyond Canada. This is entirely unsurprising, as platform infrastructures shaped by recommendation systems, black-box algorithms, and cross-border media flows increasingly blur the boundaries between cultural forms and digital markets.

© Christine Rose Cooling, 2026

Biography

Christine Rose Cooling is a PhD student in Communication & Culture at York University whose research examines how Canadian cultural policy continues to shape cultural expression in a platform-mediated media environment. Her work focuses on broadcasting regulation, streaming platforms, and the cultural significance of live music within contemporary debates about national identity and cultural sovereignty.

Blacklock’s Reporter (BR) v Attorney General for Canada (AGC): Score One for “David”

A cartoon-style illustration depicting a young boy facing a giant warrior, with a dramatic background. Text overlays include 'BR' and 'AGC'.

Image: Shutterstock (modified)

The ongoing David vs Goliath tussle involving a small web-based Ottawa public affairs journal, Blacklock’s Reporter (BR), that took on the Government of Canada (GOC) over a series of alleged copyright infringements, has just seen a significant new development.  On March 19, 2026, the Federal Court of Appeal (FCA) announced its decision in the Parks Canada case, upholding BR’s appeal of a 2024 Federal Court ruling delivered by Justice Yvan Roy. Roy had declared (1) that the use of a password by Parks Canada to access BR content constituted fair dealing under the Copyright Act, and (2) that the licit use of a password does not constitute circumvention of a TPM (technological protection measure, often referred to as a “digital lock”) as defined in the Copyright Act. That decision and its attendant declarations are now vacated. Costs were awarded to BR. This is an important victory for rightsholders and businesses that depend on TPMs to protect paywalled content. It’s also a black eye for the government’s litigator, the Attorney General for Canada (AGC), which sought these declarations as a way of justifying alleged repeated cases of copyright infringing activity by various GOC Departments and agencies.

Let’s review the history. BR is a subscription-based digital journal. Its stock in trade is “Inside Ottawa” investigative reporting. It is, frankly, a thorn in the side of government which is precisely why its role is so important. Its breaks the stories that well-staffed and well-funded departmental communications shops don’t want covered. It doesn’t print government news releases; instead, it provides investigative stories to its customers. An individual can subscribe to BR on an annual basis for a relatively modest sum, currently $314 plus tax, which compares favourably to the digital subscription rates of leading national media organizations. However, larger entities like companies or government agencies that have multiple users require institutional subscriptions. The cost depends on the number of subscribers, i.e. the degree of access. There is nothing unusual about this; it is a common business model. That business model depends on controlling access to the paywalled content. Passwords are commonly used for this purpose.

For a number of years, BR has been fighting the GOC over the government’s unwillingness to pay for bulk subscriptions for its various agencies. Because BR had difficulty in knowing how many employees within a given agency had access to its content, it filed Access to Information (ATI) requests to obtain this information. It then used the ATI revelations–which confirmed there were multiple users (in some cases, thousands) who were not covered by the subscription to BR– to bring suit for copyright infringement against these government agencies. This led the government’s lawyers, through the Attorney General for Canada (AGC,) to accuse BR of entrapment and using copyright trolling as a business model. This ludicrous accusation, which in effect suggests that BR only investigates and reports on what the government is doing in order to sell bulk subscriptions to government agencies, was firmly and rightly rejected by the courts. Given that BR was only suing for the cost of an institutional subscription, it seems evident that their sole objective was to be paid appropriately for the use of their services. However, despite the Court’s repudiation of the trolling accusation, to date BR has not been successful in proving copyright infringement on the part of the GOC and its agencies. The successful appeal opens up the possibility of further court action.

The Parks Canada case was one of BR’s first attempts to assert its copyright, as I discussed in an earlier blog post. In 2013, a Parks Canada employee accessed the BR website and purchased an individual subscription. She then shared the password she obtained with a number of other employees within the agency. BR sued, arguing this was copyright infringement and a violation of its terms of service. The AGC on behalf of Parks Canada contended the use was a fair dealing for research purposes. The nub of the issue was whether the content had been accessed legally, which is a requirement to be able to exercise the fair dealing provisions of the Copyright Act (Section 29). Fair dealing (that is, use without permission for specified purposes) does not apply if the content is protected by a TPM that has been circumvented. Circumvention is described in the Act as using descrambling or decryption or to “otherwise avoid, bypass, remove, deactivate or impair” the TPM. But what was the TPM (the password or the paywall?) and was it “bypassed”? It was a complicated scenario. As was its right, BR announced in 2021 that it had decided to discontinue this particular case and instead focus on infringement that had occurred elsewhere, in another GOC agency.

That should have been the end of it but for the action of the AGC, which did an end-run on BR’s discontinuance motion. This was was due to be officially filed on Monday morning, July 5, 2021. The AGC filed an application for summary judgment and a counterclaim (on a Sunday yet, July 4, the last day possible for such action) seeking the declarations mentioned in paragraph one. The original plaintiff, BR, thus became the respondent. The AGC sought to use the Parks Canada case, which the plaintiff had chosen to discontinue, to obtain broad declarations it could use in other cases brought by BR. For example, it sought a broad declaration that a password was not a TPM (which would imply therefore that password sharing was legal). However, the Federal Court declined to address that issue, limiting its decision to the facts of this one case. Having been forced to defend a case it had sought to discontinue, becoming in effect the respondent, and having lost, BR appealed. It has now been vindicated. As Appeal Justice Wyman Webb of the Federal Court of Appeal (FCA) clearly stated;

“…the Federal Court erred in making the declarations. I would allow the appeal and set aside the Judgment of the Federal Court”.

What has been the reaction in the free-access community that had so openly lauded the initial Federal Court decision? University of Ottawa professor Michael Geist, who crowed that the original decision, now overturned, was a “huge win” for users of copyrighted content–at least those who don’t want to pay for the paywalled content they use—has remained silent. For many years Dr. Geist has been closely associated with CIPPIC (the Samuelson-Glushko Canadian Internet Policy and Public Interest Clinic at the University of Ottawa) which was a third-party intervenor in the case, supporting the AGC. While Geist has remained silent, CIPPIC has commented, trying to minimize the impact of the decision by dismissing it as a technical issue. Although Justice Roy’s declarations have been set aside, CIPPIC tries to salvage some usable timber from the wreckage by claiming that his views on fair dealing and passwords remain as obiter (non-binding opinions). However, as this legal blog notes,

“This appellate ruling effectively nullifies the precedential value of the judgment….Moreover, the FCA explicitly noted that the court’s findings…that Blacklock’s paywall was “not the TPM” (as distinct from the password) was obiter dicta and not binding. While the FCA declined to endorse or criticize this comment, it appears that the FCA was skeptical of the findings of Justice Roy.”

Retired IP lawyer Howard Knopf, who maintains a blog titled “Excess Copyright” (which tells you all you need to know about his views on copyright), has written extensively on the BR Parks Canada case over the years. Back in August of 2024, after Justice Roy’s decision against BR, he commented that “I would frankly be surprised, but not shocked, if BR actually does appeal.” He thought BR had more to lose than to gain from doing so. Once BR had launched its appeal, Mr. Knopf informed the world that “the jurisprudence and the factual record suggest that Blacklock’s will lose the appeal.” That was clearly his belief, but he backed it up by asking ChatGPT (I am serious), which agreed that BR’s appeal would be dismissed and Justice Roy’s decision affirmed in all respects. Then came the Appeal Court’s decision. Oops. How to explain that? Easy. It was a “pyrrhic victory”. Blame ChatGPT. After all, it can’t be expected to be right all the time.

Why was the victory so “pyrrhic” (meaning not worth the cost of victory)? Knopf doesn’t say, although he is forced to acknowledge that the AGC’s motion for summary judgment has been dismissed, the declarations are voided, and costs have been awarded to BR. Having got the Parks Canada case–which it wanted to discontinue–set aside, BR is free to pursue other options, and it may do so. While Justice Roy’s views on fair dealing have not been reversed, they have also not been accepted. They have been nullified (set aside). This is not a pyrrhic victory; it is real and substantive.

The Government of Canada has deep pockets when it comes to litigation. Rather than waste these taxpayer-funded resources in pursuing small businesses who are seeking to get paid fairly for their work, as it clearly did with its “too clever by half” legal manoeuvre on the Parks Canada case, it should walk its talk about supporting Canadian media. This means doing the right thing and paying for the access it provides to its employees. Instead, it unleashed the legal dogs at AGC to try to teach BR a lesson. That strategy has just blown up in its face. Score one for David.

© Hugh Stephens, 2026. All Rights Reserved.

Canadians (and Anyone Else Outside the US): Beware the Annual Public Domain Hype

A black and white cartoon character resembling a mouse, wearing a hat and shorts, happily steering a ship's wheel.

Image: Public Domain

This is the time of year (the days and weeks after January 1) when, on a quiet news day, lazy journalists in Canada used to pick up and amplify a US based story about such and such a work falling out of copyright and into the public domain and write a story about it, complete with a grabbing headline, often to the effect that Mickey Mouse or Batman or The Great Gatsby or whoever is now “liberated from the chains of copyright”. The CBC did exactly that in 2024, producing a radio special on Steamboat Willie entering the public domain, completely ignoring the fact that all works created by Walt Disney and Ub Iwerks (which include the earliest editions of Steamboat) had already entered the public domain in Canada two years earlier, on January 1, 2022. Iwerks was co-author and joint rightsholder along with Disney for this work and as the co-author who lived the longest (he died in 1971; Disney in 1966) the term of copyright protection in Canada was based on the year he died plus, at the time, an additional 50 years. Thus, January 1, 2022 in Canada. As I wrote a couple of years ago (Canada is not the United States when it comes to Copyright: The Cases of Anne of Green Gables and Steamboat Willie (or Down the Copyright Rabbithole, Twice), sometimes works still under copyright protection in Canada are in the public domain in the US, and sometimes it is the reverse. Don’t assume. This law firm’s blog post (Gowlings) provides a good overview of what to watch out for.

The mistake of making the assumption that what happens in the US is automatically applicable to Canada is the unfortunate reality of being a cultural minnow living cheek by jowl with a content creation whale. This year I didn’t notice any of the reflected US public domain stories in the Canadian media, perhaps because the penny has finally dropped that public domain day in Canada will be a non-event until the year 2043 (no need for any hype), owing to the extension of Canada’s term of copyright protection from the life of the author plus 50 years to life plus 70 (for most works). Any works that had fallen into the public domain under Canada’s previous “life plus 50” term did not receive the additional term of protection but any works still copyright protected in Canada at the end of 2022 got another twenty years coverage before entering the public domain. Had Ub Iwerks died in 1972 instead of a year earlier, Steamboat Willie would have enjoyed another two decades of protection in Canada beyond what applies in the US, although it is doubtful whether the Walt Disney Company would have tried to enforce its rights under Canadian law.

Not only has Canada harmonized its current term of copyright protection with the US, EU, UK, and a number of other countries, (although there will always be discrepancies between the terms of protection afforded works in Canada versus those in the US for many years to come owing to the historical peculiarities of how the term of protection is calculated under US copyright law), there have also been fewer quiet news days in early 2026 thanks to the daily Donald Trump Reality Show. Moreover, there has been a surge in Canadian nationalism (and thus a greater awareness of cultural differences) as a result of the Donald’s 51st state taunts. (Prime Minister Mark Carney, an internationally recognized banker and financial executive seemed initially to enjoy Trump’s respect but since his Davos speech calling out the realities of the new world order, Carney, like his predecessor Justin Trudeau, has been demoted to the title of “Governor Carney” on Truth Social, apparently the current official channel for announcements of US government policy). So, journalists, if you want to write about what makes Canada different from the US, in addition to measuring distance in kilometers and saying “sorry” every time someone bumps into you, you could note that US and Canadian copyright laws are different. Similar in intent but not identical. For example, the US fair use doctrine with its unpredictable focus on transformative use does not apply in Canada, the US requirement for formal registration of copyright in order to bring legal action does not apply in Canada and, in particular, the complex (because of its convoluted history) US determination of when a particular work falls into the public domain does not apply in Canada.

This year, as it does every year, the Center for the Study of the Public Domain at Duke University’s Law School, published its Public Domain Day blog, highlighting all the works that fell into the US public domain on January 1, 2026. These include such well known works or characters as Agatha Christie’s The Murder at the Vicarage (protected in Canada until January 1, 2043) , Somerset Maugham’s Cakes and Ale (in the public domain in Canada since 2016), Blondie and Dagwood, nine additional Mickey Mouse cartoons, Dutch artist Piet Mondrian’s Composition No. II/Composition in Red, Blue, and Yellow, four songs by Ira and George Gershwin, and so on. Much is made of the fact that these works will be free to anyone to use, remix, copy and exploit but it’s not as if these works have been locked away in a closet, although their unlicensed use has been protected by copyright law. Copyright protection does not stop anyone from creating new works and while there may be limitations on hijacking Inspector Poirot there is nothing stopping aspiring writers from creating detective novels. There is another element worth noting as well. Particularly when it comes to copyrighted characters and cartoons, their later iterations may still be copyright protected in the US (because of the US baseline being date of publication plus a set number of years) not to mention protection offered by registered trademarks. Sometimes estates try to hang on to copyright protection at all costs, as appears to be happening in the US with Mondrian’s work. (It has been in the public domain in Canada since 1995, 50 years after Mondrian’s passing).

Once a work has entered the public domain it can be used in derivative works without permission. Has this resulted in a slate of new and creative works being produced for the benefit of mankind? Hardly. The usual result is for a brief surge of “edgy” productions incorporating a new public domain work, such as Steamboat Willie doing or saying things that Dear Old Uncle Walt (Disney) would never have countenanced. As I noted a couple of years ago, the “liberation” of copyright protected works has led to such triumphs as The Gay Gatsby, The Great Gatsby Undead (Zombie Edition) and the film Winnie the Pooh: Blood and Honey. So much for the public domain unleashing the juices of creativity.

For better or worse, copyright is not a perpetual property right. I support reasonable limitations on copyright protection including making a provision for works to enter the public domain after their prime exploitability has passed. This will vary by work with some works remaining evergreen, encouraging new investment into derivative works, updates, new editions, as well as providing ongoing returns to the estates of authors. However, at times there are situations where a work is long out of print and the rights-holder cannot be located, blocking a reprint. These situations can be dealt with through specific exceptions, much as fair use and fair dealing allow for specified unauthorized uses that do not damage the rights of the author.

To come back to the narrative that the public domain liberates content from the “shackles of copyright”, I contend this is nonsense. Beware the hype. And if you reside outside the US, don’t believe everything you read in the media regarding what works are in the public domain. You might be pleasantly surprised to find that a work has been in the public domain in your country for years (while Conan Doyle’s later works only entered the US public domain in 2023, they have been in the public domain in Canada since 1981). On the other hand, you might find the work you thought was free for adaptation based on what Duke University’s Center for the Study of the Public Domain says is way off base and it is still protected by copyright in your country of residence. Beware the hype and do your homework.

© Hugh Stephens, 2026. All Rights Reserved.

No Surprise:  Ontario Court Asserts Jurisdiction in Canadian Media Lawsuit Against OpenAI

A judge sitting at a bench in a courtroom, wearing a black robe with a red collar, Canadian flags in the background.

Image: Shutterstock

The Ontario Superior Court has ruled it has jurisdiction to hear the case against ChatGPT owner OpenAI brought by a consortium of Canadian media companies led by the Toronto Star. The media enterprises, who include the Globe and Mail, PostMedia, CBC/Radio Canada, Canadian Press and Metroland Media Group, are suing the US company for copyright infringement, circumvention of technological protection measures (TPMs), breach of contract, and unjust enrichment as a result of OpenAI’s scraping of their websites to obtain content to train its AI algorithm. The allegations also cover OpenAI’s use of Retrieval Augmented Generation (RAG) to produce contemporary search results from paywall-protected content that augment ChatGPT’s AI-generated responses. When the suit was brought in November 2024, OpenAI had challenged the Ontario court’s jurisdiction on the basis, among others, that it had no physical presence in Canada. As pointed out by this legal blog, a court may presumptively assume jurisdiction over a dispute where one of five factors is present:

  • The defendant is domiciled or resident in the province.
  • The defendant carries on business in the province.
  • The tort was committed in the province.
  • A contract connected with the dispute was made in the province.
  • Property related to the asserted claims is located in the province.

The court found that OpenAI carries on business in Ontario notwithstanding its lack of a physical presence and was a party to contracts in Ontario as a result of tacitly accepting the terms of service regarding access to the media companies websites when it scraped them.

OpenAI wanted the venue of the litigation changed to the United States to take advantage of developments in US law regarding unauthorized reproduction of copyright protected content for use as AI training inputs. To date, while many cases are still ongoing, US courts have tended to support a fair use argument by AI developers allowing them to access copyrighted content without permission on the basis that the end use is “transformational”, resulting in a new product that does not compete with the original work. In Canada, the fair use doctrine does not apply and exceptions to copyright protection are either explicitly laid out in the law (e.g. for law enforcement or archival preservation purposes) or are governed by the fair dealing provisions of the Copyright Act. These require that an unauthorized use fall into one of eight categories (research, private study, education, parody, satire, criticism, review and news reporting) that is in turn subject to various court-interpreted criteria such as amount of the work copied, the purpose of the copying, market impact etc. AI developers have been lobbying for the introduction of a text and data mining (TDM) exception into Canadian copyright law, but so far this has been successfully resisted by Canada’s creative community. All this to say that it is more difficult for AI companies to avoid liability for unauthorized use of copyright protected material in Canada than in the US, thus the importance of whether the Ontario court has jurisdiction.

Back in September, on the basis of previous Canadian court rulings where courts ranging from provincial courts to the Supreme Court of Canada asserted jurisdiction over large digital US companies operating virtually in Canada, such as Google (who challenged Canadian legal authority over them on the basis of lack of a physical presence), I predicted (guessed would be a more accurate term) that the Ontario court would be loath to surrender jurisdiction simply because the company was headquartered in the US. The earlier cases were for defamation rather than copyright infringement, and my “prediction” was based more on a hunch than legal analysis, but I am satisfied that I called it right. OpenAI has no compunction about selling services and collecting revenues in Canada and presumably (I hope) pays taxes here, although it is not subject to the Digital Services Tax (DST) that the Carney government threw overboard in a vain attempt to placate Donald Trump. Recall that Trump had threatened to terminate trade talks if Canada proceeded to implement the long-planned DST, so Canada blinked. Trade talks resumed until Trump found another excuse to end the talks, in this case the anti-tariff ads on US television placed and paid for by the Ontario government to which he took offence. But there is no doubt that OpenAI does business here; it just doesn’t want to be subject to Canadian law and Canadian courts. It can’t have it both ways.

While this is a victory for Canadian sovereignty, just because the Ontario Superior Court has confirmed its jurisdiction, this doesn’t mean that once the substantive proceedings begin copyright infringement will be found. Lawyer Barry Sookman, in an analytical  blog post on this topic, has noted that in determining whether the alleged copyright infringements occurred in Canada, “the court relied heavily on the Supreme Court decision in SOCAN for the proposition that the territorial jurisdiction of the CCA (Canadian Copyright Act) extended to where Canada is the country of transmission or reception.” However, “SOCAN applied the real and substantial connection test to the communication to the public right” whereas the alleged copying involved the right of reproduction.

Sookman continues;

“…that test does not apply to the reproduction right. (The Federal Court has) held that the only relevant factor is the location in which copies of a work are fixed into some material form. The locations where source copies reside or acts of copying onto servers located outside of Canada, are not infringements” (according to the cases cited).

Inside baseball information but important when it comes to determining copyright infringement. On the other hand, it seems to me that the infringement involved not just, potentially, the reproduction right (the copying) but also the communication right, because OpenAI, through Microsoft, provided RAG content to users in Canada and elsewhere purloined from behind the paywalls of the media companies. So, we will have to see. Lots of fodder for IP lawyers.

In the meantime, deep-pocketed OpenAI will appeal the jurisdictional ruling—and will likely lose again. The appeal will buy time for it to negotiate licensing deals with the complainants. This is increasingly the model in the US as AI developers, including OpenAI, are reaching licensing agreements with content owners, particularly media organizations. To date, OpenAI has signed licensing deals with the Associated Press, the Atlantic, Financial Times, News Corp, Vox Media, Business Insider, People, and Better Homes & Gardens, among others, while being sued (in addition to Toronto Star et al), by the New York Times and a collection of daily newspapers consisting of the New York Daily News, the Chicago Tribune, the Orlando Sentinel, the Sun Sentinel of Florida, San Jose Mercury News, The Denver Post, the Orange County Register and the St. Paul Pioneer Press. Even META, that arch-opponent of paying for media content–which it claims adds no value to its users– has struck a media deal with news publishers, including USA Today, People, CNN, Fox News, The Daily Caller, Washington Examiner and Le Monde. (One wonders if this will cause it to rethink its position of thumbing its nose at Canada’s Online News Act, where it “complied” with the legislation by blocking all Canadian news links).

In another content area, OpenAI and Disney have just agreed on a three-year output deal, allowing it to use Disney characters (subject to certain limitations) in its AI creations. (Meanwhile Disney is suing Google for using its characters in Google’s AI offering). Open AI is currently facing 20 lawsuits, including the Toronto Star case, and needs to resolve these legal challenges before its expected public offering next year or 2027. The spectre of impending lawsuits will inevitably lower the IPO price.

Most if not all of these lawsuits are going to end in settlements via voluntary licensing agreements, but that will only happen if OpenAI thinks the alternative (losing a major lawsuit) is a worse outcome. If it can wriggle out from the Toronto Star case by invoking some specious argument related to jurisdiction, it will. If it can’t it, will eventually open its chequebook and provide the Canadian media outlets some compensation for the valuable curated content it has hijacked. Canadian courts need to stay the course to help ensure that this happens.

© Hugh Stephens, 2025. All Rights Reserved.

The CRTC’s “Rube Goldberg” Definition of Canadian Content (CanCon): More Complicated..but Also More Flexible

An old television displaying the words 'CANCON REDEFINED' over a background of the Canadian flag.

Since it is frequently in the news, it’s worth asking the question. What is Canadian Content (Cancon)? It can be many things to many people. Unlike pornography, you don’t always know it when you see it. Blogger Michael Geist illustrated the problem well a few years ago with his Cancon quiz. If you want to do well in the quiz, select just about any production that the general public is likely to regard as Canadian– i.e. based on a book written by a Canadian, starring a prominent Canadian actor or notably taking place in Canada–as not qualifying as certified Cancon. Then select all the obscure productions you have never heard of including several with no identifiable connection to Canada as certified Canadian content. You will be a winner! This perverse outcome is because of the way the system is set up, as I have written about in previous blogs, such as this one (Unravelling the Complexities of the Canadian Content (Cancon) Conundrum).

In brief, up to now Cancon has been primarily defined by the number of points (out of 10) that a production accumulates, in addition to other factors such as the requirement that it be produced by a Canadian and reach a minimum 75% production expenditure in Canada (except for co-productions). Cancon is defined in regulation by no less than three entities, Telefilm Canada for co-productions, the Canadian Audio-Visual Certification Office (CAVCO), part of Heritage Canada, to determine eligibility for subsidies, and the broadcast regulator, the CRTC, with respect to meeting Cancon broadcast quotas. All use the points system, with some productions requiring 10/10 to obtain maximum subsidies, while most others  meeting a minimum 6/10 requirement. Points are awarded for the positions in the production filled by Canadians, such as the writer, director, performers, director of photography, production designer, music composer and picture editor. For CAVCO productions, the copyright must also be held by a Canadian producer for a minimum of 25 years. The actual story and its setting are completely irrelevant. In short, it is more of an industrial than a cultural policy, based on the assumption that if Canadians are in charge, they will produce content that reflects Canada. It often doesn’t work out that way.

Now the CRTC has updated its definition of Cancon as part of the implementation of the Online Streaming Act, which brings streaming services in Canada under the oversight of the broadcast regulator. Foreign streaming services over a certain revenue threshold are being required to make a financial contribution to Cancon (although they are challenging this in court) and may be required to promote Cancon on their services (“discoverabilty). The CRTC cannot impose broadcast quotas on an à la carte streaming service, whether domestic or foreign, thus the financial contribution and likely discoverability requirements. The survival and promotion of Canadian content, both domestically and internationally, is at the core of the legislation. Thus, the CRTC’s new definition of Cancon is very relevant.

If you thought the definition was going to get simpler, think again. However, it has been updated to incorporate new positions in productions, like a showrunner, plus those responsible for costume design, make-up artists, and hair artists. But not all productions, especially those in Québec, have all these positions, especially the new category of showrunner. As a compromise, having a Canadian showrunner will be worth an optional 2 bonus points, but if you don’t have one you won’t be penalized. What exactly is a showrunner? There is a lengthy CRTC definition related to the position being the creative leader of a production, managing the production process etc. With respect to costume design, make-up and hair artists, if collectively all these positions are filled by Canadians the production will garner another bonus point. If a production does not utilize all of these positions, it must fill the ones that it does with Canadians to get the optional point. Is Canadian makeup and hair design different from non-Canadian? I wouldn’t have thought so, but there you go. As I said, it is an industrial policy as much as a cultural one.

Here is another example of what is starting to look like very much like a Rube Goldberg machine, with add-ons, exceptions, secret doorways and special conditions. For animated productions, the Commission will now award 2 points (instead of 1 point) for each of the key creative positions Director, and Scriptwriter and Storyboard Supervisor, when filled by Canadians. There are various other tweaks; for animated productions, the Commission will award the points noted below for the following key creative positions, when filled by Canadians; Director (2 points; previously 1 point); Scriptwriter and Storyboard Supervisor (2 points; previously 1 point); and First Voice (or first lead performer) and Second Voice (or second lead performer) (1 point each; previously 1 point for one or the other, but not both). It goes on. For animated productions, the Director OR Scriptwriter and Storyboard Supervisor, and either the First Voice (or first lead performer) OR Second Voice (or second lead performer), and Key Animation AND Camera Operator must be Canadian. There’s more, adding Visual Effects Director and Special Effects Director to the list of key creative positions in a film, adding one bonus point if both are Canadian.

If all this has your head spinning, be assured that this stuff is of intrinsic interest to the industry but of not much relevance to Canadian consumers. What Canadian consumers want are Canadian stories in Canadian settings. On this score, there is a bit of a breakthrough, recognizing the importance of these factors for the first time. It is only a small opening but is the first time that location depicted in a film has been included as a factor in assessing Canadian content, as well as points for the source of the story.

The Commission will award 1 bonus point where identifiable Canadian characters and identifiable Canadian settings are included in a production, but all lead characters (up to 5 main fictional characters in dramatic productions) must be identified as Canadian or members of First Nations, Inuit or Métis in Canada and all persons on screen in non-dramatic productions (presenters, musicians, dancers) might likewise be Canadian, First Nations, Inuit or Métis (as if the latter were not, by definition, Canadian). As for location, “The location of the story must be set in Canada. The story or narrative must take place entirely in an identified Canadian city/region/province/territory. The location can be identified by a Canadian landmark or by identification on screen or otherwise identified overtly in the narrative or text of the program.”

All this for one lousy point! If you want to incorporate a visual reference to a place outside Canada (for example, one’s homeland for immigrant Canadians) could you do it in a dream scene if the dreamer’s bedroom has a shot of the CN Tower through the window. Not clear. But it is a start toward recognizing that settings, characters and stories are relevant to Cancon. A bonus point will be awarded for a production based on a Canadian story and another point for using Canadian music.

Finally, on the copyright front where the current CAVCO policy requires a Canadian to control the copyright for 25 years, there is mixed news. In a recent blog post, I argued that the CRTC should not impose a Canadian copyright restriction if the goal is to get foreign streamers to produce more Cancon for distribution abroad. Content is softpower. Content exported abroad not only helps cover the cost of production, it projects an image of Canada to the world through Canadian stories. To penalize foreign producers by preventing them from acquiring copyright in productions they have financed or partially financed, should they wish to acquire it, is shortsighted in my view. The CRTC took account of this concern but also had to listen to the instructions it received from government requiring it to consider the need to support Canadian ownership of intellectual property.

The end result is a compromise; Canadians must retain at least 20% of the copyright ownership in a program. In other words, up to 80% of the copyright in a production can be held by a foreign enterprise. In such cases, however, the production must accumulate at least 80% of possible points and the director and screenwriter must be Canadian. Where there are greater degrees of Canadian copyright ownership, some of these requirements are relaxed. There will be no minimum copyright retention period. A recent blog on MediaPolicy.ca goes into more detail on this.

Finally, there is the question of AI, just about the only point in the CRTC decision picked up by the mainstream media. The new positions created to increase the point count have to be staffed by humans, not AI. The rest of the CRTC package was likely too difficult to compress into something readable for the average news consumer.

What does this all add up to? An incredibly complex and bureaucratic system yet that is, believe it or not, a bit more flexible with respect to defining Canadian content than previously. It is a result of the classic compromises that must be made between idealism and reality, between promoting Canadian content in a bubble and ensuring its presence in the real, competitive world. It attempts to strike a balance between heavy lobbying by domestic constituencies such as Canadian independent producers and licensed broadcasters, and the foreign streamers that increasingly dominate the market. It tips the balance a bit more toward being a cultural than an industrial policy, but from the point of view of the average Canadian, is about as arcane as a bureaucratic process can get.

As noted, it is a Rube Goldberg machine with many levers needing to be pulled to get to the desired end, often by the most complicated route possible. But the Commission had little choice given that the current Cancon policy was clearly outdated. Maybe at the end of the day, we will actually get more recognizable Canadian content that finds audiences both domestically and internationally, on a variety of platforms. And while purist Canadian nationalists may disagree, if the new policy encourages additional investment in Cancon from the streamers, that can only be a benefit to Canada.

© Hugh Stephens, 2025. All Rights Reserved.

If anyone is not familiar with Rube Goldberg and his penchant for drawing overly complicated solutions to simple problems, this link will provide more detail.

We need more Canada in the Training Data, but through Licensing not Loopholes

Canada Has a Choice When it Comes to AI Training Content

Scrabble tiles arranged to display the words 'LOOPHOLES' and 'LICENSING' on a game board.

Michael Geist, Canada Research Chair in Internet and E-Commerce Law at the University of Ottawa has argued, in an appearance before the Heritage Committee of the House of Commons, that “we need more Canada in the training data”. He is absolutely right, but just not in the way he proposes. Dr. Geist is what I would call a well-known skeptic when it comes to the intrinsic value of copyright, a copyright “minimalist” if you will (probably an understatement).

With respect to the unauthorized and uncompensated use of copyrighted content for AI training, he states that “in the context of AI, the application of copyright isn’t clear cut. The outputs of AI systems rarely rise (to) the level of actual infringement given that the expression may be similar or inspired by another source, but it is not a direct copy of the original.” Whether the outputs mirror the inputs is not the sole issue. In some cases, such as when music and images have provided the inputs, they do. This is an infringement of the reproduction right, and likely also an infringement of the distribution right and the right to produce a derivative copy (under US law). In Canada the right to create another work from an original work comes from the right of adaptation. However, even without a mirrored output, full reproduction still takes place at the input stage, creating an infringement unless the copies meet a fair dealing purpose and fulfill fair dealing criteria, even if the copies are later deleted. As Keith Kupferschmid, CEO of the Washington DC based Copyright Alliance has pointed out in a recent blog post discussing the copyright principles that apply in AI training cases,

“Some people mistakenly believe that in order to establish an infringement during the input stage, the copyright owner needs to establish substantial similarity between the ingested copyrighted work and AI-generated output and if no substantial similarity exists there is no infringement in this stage. That is incorrect.”

Even without mirrored outputs, full non-transitory copies of copyrighted works are being made at the ingestion stage of AI training. That is an infringement, just as making a photocopy of a complete work, such as a book, would be an infringement unless covered by an explicit exception such as preservation purposes by a library or archive. 

Dr. Geist’s second line of argument is that if Canada makes it more difficult or costly to develop large language models, AI development will shift outside the country. This is a tried-and-true but tired pretext frequently employed by those seeking to justify the appropriation of copyright protected content in the name of “innovation”, as I pointed out in an earlier blog post. (CanLII v CasewayAI: Defendant Trots Out AI Industry’s Misinformation and Scare Tactics -But Don’t Panic, Canada). This is a race to the bottom, throwing the content industry under the bus on the pretext that everyone is doing it, even though that is untrue. One provision that has been selectively incorporated into the laws of some jurisdictions, like the UK and the EU, is an exception for “text and data mining” (TDM). Dr. Geist states this is why Canada also needs to introduce a similar statutory exception to promote AI.

However, not everyone is engaged in this race to the bottom. In fact, there are increasing doubts that establishing a statutory TDM exception for AI training is the best way to go. Australia has just firmly rejected the creation of a TDM exception in its copyright law even though it is also grappling with the same issue of how to incentivize AI training and research in that country. The UK’s current TDM exception is limited to non-commercial research purposes and in the face of strong opposition from its creative sector, Britain has put proposals to expand TDM on hold. Even the EU’s TDM law, which has two aspects, one limiting the data mining to non-commercial scientific research conducted by scientific research organizations or cultural heritage institutions while the other is a general purpose TDM that is open to commercial organizations, has guardrails. These include an opt-out provision whereby rightsholders can block ingestion of their content through technical measures, contract provisions or other means, in which case the TDM exception does not apply.

While opting-out by rightsholders is one way to limit the damage of unrestricted text and data mining, this is controversial because it places the onus on the rightsholder to take action whereas normally a party wanting to use someone else’s property would have to obtain permission in advance. Opting out is not a preferred solution for the creative community. It doesn’t work well in practice as rightsholders often lack the technical means or awareness to apply their opt-out rights. Because of this, the European Parliament’s Committee on Legal Affairs has just published a study examining how generative artificial intelligence interacts with European Union copyright law. The study recommends moving from opt-out to opt-in for rightsholders.

Thus, far from TDM being or becoming the norm, it is being rejected or constrained in a number of countries where the AI industry has been pushing it as the ultimate solution. The Canadian creative community, like the creative sector in Australia,  has spoken out strongly against introducing a TDM exception into Canadian law. Indeed, there is no need to do so as licensing solutions allowing AI training and text and data mining are becoming more and more common, including in Canada. For example, the Writers Union of Canada is studying a proposed agreement between select nonfiction authors, HarperCollins, and Microsoft to license full texts for the purpose of training artificial intelligence. Licensing agreements have taken off big-time in the US and elsewhere as the AI industry begins to understand this is the safest way to protect their investments. Canadian creators risk being left by the roadside if Canada brings in a TDM exception that would allow AI developers to steam ahead, appropriating content without payment or permission and ignoring licensing requirements by hiding behind a TDM exception.  The surest way to kill a nascent and growing licensing market is to give the AI sector a TDM loophole to exploit, removing any incentive to reach licensing agreements with rightsholders.  The solution is licensing, not loopholes.

Dr. Geist stated in his testimony to the Heritage Committee that AI developers would take the view that if they had to pay for (i.e. to license) content from Canadian creators, they would simply exclude it. The record of licensing deals being reached elsewhere suggests this is completely off base. Instead, the record shows that when AI developers want reliable, curated content to make their product better than the competition, they are ready to pay for it. But they will never pay for it if they are given a blank cheque through a legislated loophole. He also claims the position of the creative community is “Don’t use my stuff”. Again, the record of licensing deals to date and in the pipeline disproves this characterization in spades. Rather than blocking use of their content, creators are saying, “If you want to use my content, let’s talk”. Finally, Dr. Geist managed to completely mischaracterize the position of the creative community with regard to licensing. He said in his testimony that creators are advocating for a change to copyright law to mandate payments for AI training use. On the contrary, the creative community is simply asking that existing copyright law not be gutted. There is no need to create a mandatory payment requirement; existing copyright law is fit for purpose in dealing with how those wishing to use copyrighted content for purposes that fall outside fair dealing can do so. Negotiate a licence.

If any proof is needed of how the creation of a loophole will kill a licensing market is, all one needs to do is look at the sorry state of educational publishing in Canada. The industry has been decimated, and many authors have lost their livelihood because of the ill-conceived educational exception that was introduced into Canada’s Copyright Act in 2012. With that loophole in place, educational institutions across the country, with the notable exception of Quebec, began to tear up the reproduction licenses they had held from Access Copyright, the copyright collective representing authors. The educational exemption as part of fair dealing criteria could still be fixed, but the educational sector, facing severe financial pressures, has a powerful lobby working against it. The financial pressures are real, but taking a free ride on educational publishers and authors is wrong.

What happened with educational publishing is a cautionary tale for Canada. It should not make the same mistake twice. The way to promote a strong AI industry, alongside vibrant content industries, is licensing, not loopholes. Building a robust AI/TDM licensing market is the way to get more Canada into the training data, not giving the AI industry a blank cheque to help itself to the proprietorial content of others. With voluntary licensing everyone benefits. AI developers get secure access to quality content; the creative sector is rewarded for its efforts and becomes a partner in developing responsible AI. It’s a shame that the Canada Research Chair at the University of Ottawa doesn’t understand this.

© Hugh Stephens, 2025. All Rights Reserved.

Australia Stands Up for its Creative Sector: A Useful Lesson for Canada and Others

Two coffee mugs side by side, one featuring the Australian flag and the other featuring the Canadian flag.

Image: Shutterstock

Australia just took an important stand in the tug-of-war being waged in many countries over whether, how and to what extent tech companies can use copyrighted content (text, music, images and so on) to train AI platforms by reproducing the content and extracting its essence without permission or compensation to rightsholders. Attorney-General Michelle Rowland has announced that while Australia will be undertaking consultations on revisions to its copyright laws to help address the needs of the AI industry, a Text and Data Mining (TDM) exception has been ruled out. Some countries, like the UK, have TDM exceptions for limited purposes (such as research and non-commercial use) in their laws while several other countries have TDM under review. Existing TDM exceptions allow reproduction of copyrighted content without the authorization of the rightsholder for research, data analysis, and in some cases for AI training purposes.

There is currently no TDM exception in Canadian law but as I noted in a recent blog post (“Canada’s Creative Sector Uneasily Awaits the Carney Government’s Next Steps on AI Training”), pressure is building from the AI sector to incorporate TDM into Canada’s Copyright Act. The government currently has yet another consultation paper on AI out for public comment and the Canadian cultural sector is organizing to protect creator’s rights, specifically calling on the Canadian government to “ensure that the Copyright Act is not modified through an exception permitting Text and Data Mining (TDM) or any other exception allowing technology developers or users to use protected works…to train generative AI systems without authorization or compensation…”. In doing so, it is taking a leaf from the book of Australian creators who mounted strong opposition to a proposal from the Productivity Commission, (PC) an independent research and advisory body created by an Act of Parliament some 25 years ago, that proposed in a report in August that Australia adopt a TDM exception. To say that this proposal put the cat amongst the pigeons would be an understatement.

The Commission has a reputation for denigrating the value of intellectual property and seeing it as an obstacle to industrial development rather than as an essential partner. In 2015 it proposed shortening the term of copyright protection from the current life of the author plus seventy years (“life plus 70”), a generally accepted international standard, to just “life plus 15”, (far lower than the Berne Convention minimum and a standard not adopted anywhere) while introducing a US-style fair use regime into Australia. There was strong pushback then, (it didn’t happen) and there was strong pushback this year (see here and here, for example) when the PC proposed introducing a TDM exception. It was particularly criticized for its lack of consultation with the creative industries in developing this proposal.

Now the Australian government has put its foot down, ruling out TDM but indicating that it will look at alternative solutions. These include examining whether to establish a new “paid collective licensing framework” under the Copyright Act for AI, or whether to maintain the status quo through voluntary licensing, clarifying how copyright law applies to material generated through the use of AI (i.e. whether there should be copyright protection for outputs produced by or with AI) and looking at the establishment of a new small claims forum to address lower-value copyright infringement matters.

It is generally accepted that AI is here to stay and will continue to need vast amounts of content for training. In most cases, copyrighted content is the kind of curated, high value work that AI developers need but until now, have preferred to appropriate without permission rather than pay for through licensing. In effect they have decided to ask for forgiveness after rather than permission beforehand. This has led to a plethora of lawsuits globally, including the recent $1.5 billion settlement that Anthropic has agreed to pay out to settle a class action suit brought by authors in the US. “Forgiveness” can be expensive. Inside the US, AI developers are arguing their copying is fair use, although at the same time they are beginning to hedge their bets by licensing content from a number of sources, ranging from media to music to image companies. Outside the US, AI companies have been beating the TDM drum, hoping that creation of wide TDM exceptions will obviate the need to negotiate with content owners. Nonetheless, voluntary licensing is growing globally. However, the surest way to kill a nascent licensing market is to give the tech industry a “get out of jail free” card by introducing a broad TDM exception. Australia has just rejected that option. Canada and others considering introducing new, or broadening existing, TDM loopholes should do the same.

It is not clear where Australia’s AI and Copyright review will end up, other than to note that it will not include TDM. As I have noted above, among other things it will be considering “collective licensing”. Collective licensing could help address the problem of remunerating individual rightsholders, in contrast to licence agreements signed between AI developers and corporate entities like media companies. However, Australia needs to steer clear of compulsory licensing which strips away the rights of copyright owners. Compulsory licences authorize use upon payment of a statutory or negotiated fee but remove the right of a copyright holder to withhold consent for use, or to impose specific limitations. A voluntary licence framework is fair to everyone. Compulsory licensing is not.

Canada and Australia have many things in common, (as well as a number of differences of course, beyond poutine vs vegemite). Among their commonalities is the desire to protect and foster a unique cultural identity in the face of global cultural homogenization. This is even more important in Canada given the realities of the struggle faced by 6 or 7 million Francophones to preserve their culture in a sea of 375 million Anglophones. Canada followed Australia’s lead (although less successfully) in requiring major online platforms to contribute financially to (i.e. pay for the use of) news media content. It should do the same by putting the idea of a TDM exception firmly to one side and instead focus on encouraging the development of voluntary licensing market for copyrighted content when used in AI training.

© Hugh Stephens, 2025. All Rights Reserved.

US Retaliation Against the Online Streaming Act: How Real is the Threat?   

Illustration of the Canadian flag overlaid with yellow caution tape labeled 'TARIFFS', featuring American flags, symbolizing trade tensions between Canada and the USA.

Image: Shutterstock

As CRTC hearings on implementation of the Online Streaming Act (formerly Bill C-11) grind slowly forward as part of the Commission’s deliberations as to how foreign audiovisual and audio (music) streaming services may be required to meet Canadian content (Cancon) and discoverability requirements, while determining the extent of their financial contribution to various funds supporting Canadian content, affected US industry players are not sitting on their hands. As you would expect, they are deploying a range of tactics to fight back using their industry associations, the Motion Picture Association (MPA)-Canada, representing Netflix, Disney, Sony, Paramount, Universal, Amazon Prime and Warner Bros. Discovery, and the Computer & Communications Industry Association (CCIA), representing among others Amazon, Apple, Google and Meta, as their vehicles of choice.

MPA-Canada is currently appealing to the Federal Court the CRTC decision that its members must contribute 1.5% of annual revenues to the Independent Local News Fund, arguing that the studios do not produce news and should not be required to contribute to a line of business in which they are not active. Apple, Spotify and Amazon are also appealing the full 5% payment on the grounds it is a tax the CRTC is not mandated to apply. The 1.5% contribution to news is part of the CRTC’s initial decision that the streamers should, as a “downpayment”, contribute 5% of revenues to fund Canadian production.  The MPA has also undertaken a lobbying campaign to point out how much its members already contribute to production in Canada, (CAD$6.7 billion in 2023, more than the CBC, Canadian Media Fund and Telefilm Canada combined) even though much of that content does not count as CanCon under current rules.

To this “positive” argument, the CCIA by contrast has added a more hard line, “negative” approach, releasing a study that calculates the amount the CRTC’s compulsory contributions will purportedly cost the US industry. Assuming the levy stays at 5% of revenues (by no means an assured outcome as Canadian broadcasters are urging the CRTC to impose contributions of 20 to 30%, similar to the obligations they face), CCIA estimates this will cost US streamers between $2.19 billion and $6.96 billion (all figures USD) by 2030. The estimate of losses is bundled with CCIA’s claim that the financial obligations constitute a violation of the CUSMA (known as the USMCA in the US) because it creates a preferential regime for Canadian content “thereby discriminating against content classified as American or from a third country”. In the eyes of the CCIA, actions under the Online Streaming Act violate the principle of “national treatment” in which Party A agrees to treat the products and services of Party B “no less favourably” than its own products and services. In support of this claim, CCIA cites the Investment and Digital Trade Chapters of CUSMA/USMCA, Chapters 14 and 19 respectively. According to CCIA, the Online Streaming Act’s “inconsistency with core trade obligations is beyond dispute”. Given this “indisputable” fact, CCIA states that “if challenged, Canada can be expected to invoke its cultural industries exception (Article 32.6) as a basis for justifying the inevitable discrimination….”

Article 32.6 is part of the General Exceptions Chapter of the CUSMA/USMCA. It states, in part, “This Agreement does not apply to a measure adopted or maintained by Canada with respect to a cultural industry…” The production, distribution, sale, or exhibition of film or video recordings as well as audio or video music recordings are included in the definition of a cultural industry. As I have written elsewhere (NAFTA and the Cultural Exception) Article 32.6, while in theory exempting defined cultural industries from the obligations of the Agreement (the NAFTA provision was essentially rolled over into the CUSMA), has a sting in its tail. If Canada applies any discriminatory measures that violate the agreement using the cultural exclusion as the pretext, the US is fully within its rights to retaliate with measures of “equivalent commercial effect”, in any sector. The CCIA’s $2.19 billion or $6.95 billion numbers need to be viewed in this context.

The first question, therefore, is would Canada need to resort to Article 32.6 to justify measures taken under the Online Streaming Act? I argued in an earlier paper I wrote for the School of Public Policy at the University of Calgary that given the current structure of the obligations, Article 32.6 would not be in play because the measures in question are not inconsistent with CUSMA, given the Agreement’s precise wording. You can read the detailed arguments in the paper, but essentially my position is that neither the Chapter 14 Investment reference nor the Chapter 19 Digital Trade provision cited by CCIA are relevant because content streaming is covered by a separate part of the Agreement, Chapter 15, Cross-border Trade in Services. The terms of the Online Streaming Act, as applied by the CRTC provide “national treatment” to foreign streaming services. In fact, they impose lesser requirements on foreign streamers with respect to carriage of Cancon than they do on Canadian streamers.

But this interpretation is only my personal view. I have no idea is this is the interpretation of the trade policy gurus at Global Affairs Canada (I haven’t spoken to them and even if I did, they would be unlikely to tell me what their position would be on a hypothetical trade case) and is almost certainly not the interpretation favoured by officials in the Office of the US Trade Representative (USTR). And certainly not by CCIA. CCIA’s position is that a show or track streamed in Canada is a digital product, (even though it describes its members as providing “streaming services”). The Agreement is clear that there should be no discrimination against digital products of the other Party i.e. they should be accorded “national treatment”, although domestic products can be subsidized. On the other hand, if streamed content is not considered a digital product (nor an investment, which according to CUSMA cannot be subject to “performance requirements” as a condition of allowing the investment) but rather a cross-border service, the conditions applicable to delivery of the service are what counts. National treatment needs to apply to service delivery, and insofar as the Online Streaming Act is concerned, it does.

Whether streamed content is a digital product or a cross-border service clearly matters. If the US brought a CUSMA trade complaint against Canada–and if the CCIA view were to prevail–Canada would either have to change the way it treats US digital products carried by streaming services or defend its actions on the basis of the cultural exception, Article 32.6. If it did the latter, it would be opening itself to trade retaliation by the US, at an equivalent commercial level. In my experience and judgement, Canada would be most unlikely to resort to the exception to justify its actions precisely because of the consequences. The US would retaliate not just against the cultural sector, but in other areas that would set one industry or part of the country against another. To avoid this, the government would instead find some other way to comply with the Agreement by modifying the offending provision (as little as possible but as much as necessary), but doing so in a way, if possible, that still met all or most of its policy objectives.

It is also just possible, however, that Canada would be prepared to absorb the retaliation, calculated by CCIA to be between $400 and $500 million annually if the CRTC mandated contribution remains at 5% of revenues. This sounds like a big number but the random way the Trump Administration has been imposing tariffs on a range of Canadian products such as steel and aluminum (50%), lumber (45%), and autos (25%), industries where Canadian exports total tens of billions of dollars annually, makes $400 million in possible retaliation seem relatively minor. In effect, Trump’s erratic punitive behaviour has normalized trade retaliation–and devalued its effectiveness as a threat. But whatever response the Canadian government took, the first step would be to determine whether Canada was in fact in violation of the Agreement. If one Party considers that “an actual or proposed measure of another Party is or would be inconsistent with an obligation of this Agreement”, it can resort to the dispute settlement process. In the first instance, this involves consultation and if no resolution is reached, sometimes the constitution of a panel to decide the issue. (CUSMA/Article 31).

The CCIA itself cannot charge Canada with non-compliance, although it can raise the spectre of retaliation as it is doing. Only the US Government can bring a complaint, and at this stage it is not clear if it would be willing to do so. Given the range of trade disputes between the two countries, including unilateral tariffs on Canadian exports imposed by the Trump Administration on the basis of specious claims that Canada is a major source of fentanyl exports to the US (last year 0.2% of all fentanyl seized at the US border came from Canada; over 90% was from Mexico), or equally questionable grounds that exports of Canadian products ranging from aluminum to kitchen cabinets pose a national security threat to the US, the bilateral trade relationship hardly needs more issues. It will depend on the extent to which the streamers in the US have the ear of the Trump Administration. Given Trump’s insistence that Canada drop its planned Digital Sales Tax if it wanted to keep the current bilateral trade talks going , it is certainly within the realm of possibility that USTR would take up the CCIA’s case.

There is one other wrinkle to the cultural exception clause. Even if Canada does not justify its actions on the basis of Article 32.6, potentially the US could unilaterally declare it considers Canadian measures to fall under that provision and move to initiate retaliatory measures. If it did so, Canada would then be entitled to demand a panel to determine whether Article 32.6 is applicable, and if so, whether the retaliation met the “equivalent commercial effect” test. However, the key issue would still be to determine whether Canada had violated its commitments under the Agreement. If there is no violation of CUSMA’s terms, the cultural exception is moot. If all this has your head spinning, welcome to the green eyeshade world of trade practitioners.

CCIA, in pushing back against the provisions of the Online Streaming Act, has resorted to the threat of trade retaliation as one more tool in its policy toolbox. That is to be expected. With this in mind, the CRTC will be carefully reviewing how much leeway it has in trade policy terms and needs to keep Canada’s CUSMA commitments in mind when implementing policy. In a following blog posting I will outline what I think Canada and the CRTC need to consider.

© Hugh Stephens 2025. All Rights Reserved.  

Canada’s Creative Sector Uneasily Awaits the Carney Government’s Next Steps on AI Training

Blasting a Wide TDM Hole in the Structure of Copyright is Not the Answer

A cartoon-style illustration showing a fist breaking through a brick wall labeled 'COPYRIGHT', with the fist wearing a band labeled 'TDM', surrounded by explosive graphical effects.
Image: Author (via DALLE-E)

The ongoing wrestling match-cum-dance between the creative sector and AI developers over the uncompensated and unauthorized use of copyrighted content for AI training is being played out in different ways in different countries. In the US it is largely a legal play in the courts at the moment, with mixed results for both sides. However, President Trump has made concerning public comments siding with the AI industry, saying it is impractical for AI developers to pay copyright holders for AI training (and besides, China doesn’t do it). Congress is still considering its options. In Australia, the Productivity Commission, never a friend of intellectual property, has just issued an interim report recommending the adoption of a Text and Data Mining (TDM) exception in Australia to boost development of the AI industry locally. The Australian creative sector mobilized quickly and has pushed back hard against this proposal, with the government now saying that it has no plans to amend the Copyright Act. In the UK, where there is a TDM exception but only for non-commercial purposes, the Starmer government quickly adopted a pro-AI strategy, part of which was to propose an expansion of TDM to include commercial purposes, although subject to an opt-out for rights-holders. That ignited a major storm among leading British creatives from Paul McCartney and Elton John on down. Through a unified campaign, British creators were able to gain support in the Upper Chamber (House of Lords) to slow down the legislation. As a result, the TDM issue has now  been earmarked for further consultation and study. One thing is certain, the creation of a wide TDM exception is a sure way to stifle a nascent but rapidly developing licensing market for copyrighted content used for AI training.

It seems as if TDM, or more permissive TDM, is testing the boundaries of copyright just about everywhere. So, what about Canada? Canada has no TDM exception in its copyright law and, unlike the US, has clearly defined fair dealing exceptions that do not lend themselves to expansive court interpretation. Like other countries, it is trying to figure out how to not get left behind as the AI race accelerates. Canada initially had a first mover advantage in terms of AI research, given the work of Geoffrey Hinton, Yoshua Bengio and others, but recently it has been falling behind, notably lacking native startups. The cluster effect is not happening, with Canadian innovation going elsewhere for commercialization. To address these challenges, the new Carney government has appointed a dedicated Minister of Artificial Intelligence and Digital Innovation, former journalist Evan Solomon. This is the first time such a position has existed. One of Solomon’s first acts was to accelerate launch of an AI strategy beginning with a new consultation released on October 1 (closing at the end of this month), in the form of a survey to “help define the next chapter of Canada’s AI leadership”. This survey asks many relevant questions regarding AI and how it could be best developed in Canada but manages to mostly steer clear of the thorny question of AI training and copyright. The only question tangentially related to this issue is the following;

“Which infrastructure gaps (compute, data, connectivity) are holding back AI innovation in Canada, and what is stopping Canadian firms from building sovereign infrastructure to address them?”

Clearly this consultation is not going to turn over the TDM rock, at least not directly.

In the past couple of years, the government has issued two consultation papers on AI, one in 2021 and another last year as well as a “What We Heard” report. This report, issued earlier this year, summarizes the “great divide” between AI developers and the content industry. It’s first observation was that “Creators oppose the use of their content in AI without consent and compensation” but then goes on to say that “User groups support clarifications that TDM does not infringe copyright”.

After a couple of other observations about the centrality of human authorship and the need for transparency surrounding the use of copyright-protected works in the training of AI, the paper observed that there is “no consensus about whether existing legal tests and remedies are adequate”. That is the nub of the issue. There is no consensus, and while the courts are struggling with this issue (including in Canada, as I wrote about here and here), what Canadian creators fear is the introduction of a wide TDM exception in the name of maintaining “Canadian competitiveness”.

The launch of the new AI strategy and the evolution of the way in which copyrighted content is described in government consultation documents is indicative of the pressures on the government to shore up Canada’s AI strategy. It is interesting to note the shift in the definition of TDM from 2021 to today.

The definition provided in the 2021 consultation document described TDM as follows;

“The process of conducting TDM may require the making of reproductions of large quantities of works or other copyright subject matter to extract particular data and information from them. This process may be carried out using scientific or text-based data, as well as images, sounds, or other creative works.”

In the most recent consultative document, that definition has evolved;

“Text and data mining (TDM) consists of the reproduction and analysis of large quantities of data and information, including those extracted from copyright-protected content, to identify patterns and make predictions.”

Note the shift from “works” to “data”.[i]  It’s a subtle difference but is hugely significant because data and facts are not protectable under copyright whereas the creative elements of original works are. The cultural sector is rightly concerned.

The Coalition for the Diversity of Cultural Expressions (CDCE), a major arts and creatives lobby group, is currently pressing Ottawa on a number of cultural issues, including AI. Among its AI asks are to;

  1. Ensure that the Copyright Act is not modified through an exception permitting Text and Data Mining (TDM) or any other exception allowing technology developers or users to use protected works…to train generative AI systems without authorization or compensation;
  2. Adopt national legislation on generative AI that requires developers of generative AI systems to disclose the training data they use; and
  3. Adopt legislative provisions requiring public identification of content that is purely AI-generated.

Against these demands is the pressure coming from AI advocates who will argue that if the US loosens restrictions on use of copyrighted content for AI training, Canada will have no recourse but to follow. In other words, as goes the US, so goes Canada (or for that matter, the UK, Australia and others). Thus, what is happening in the US courts, and perhaps in Congress, is of critical importance for the creative sector everywhere including, in particular, Canada.

The issue of AI training on copyrighted content will need to be resolved sooner or later. Licensing solutions are developing quickly and if Canada can wait a bit longer it may be able to adopt licensing as the preferred solution (although the “What We Heard” report noted that “Some (intervenors) argued that licensing is an unnecessary burden because it may not be clear that copyright is engaged or that works used in TDM are being reproduced in the first place.”). There is pressure on the Carney government to take early action since AI industry developments are moving at lightning speed. With the TDM train gaining momentum in Canada and elsewhere, Canadian creators are understandably uneasy about what is likely to happen next.  

As the CDCE notes, culture is a major economic and social pillar in Canada. In 2023, it generated $63.2 billion in value added and employed 669,600 people. Throwing all that under the bus in the name of remaining competitive on AI is a flawed choice, a point also made by the creative sectors in the UK, Australia and elsewhere. However, with the AI horse well out of the barn, copyright cannot be seen as an obstacle to innovation, an accusation freely levelled at it by some in the AI industry. Rather, it must be seen as a partner in innovation, which is where licensing comes in.

Blasting a wide TDM hole in the protection and incentive structure that copyright provides the creative sector is not the answer. The creative sector is watching and waiting anxiously.

© Hugh Stephens, 2025. All Rights Reserved

[i] I am indebted to Erin Finlay, partner at Stohn Hay Cafazzo Heim Finlay LLP for drawing these changing definitions to my attention