For anyone who may have noticed (hopefully you did), I have not posted a blog for a couple of weeks. I am invoking that blanket summertime excuse, “I’ve been up at the cottage”. But I have not completely divorced myself from thinking about copyright issues, since they seem to pop up everywhere, even in cottage country.
For non “Central Canadians”, the term “cottage” may be a bit of mystery or even a misnomer. If you are thinking Anne Hathaway’s Tudor cottage covered with climbing roses, you are way off base. In fact, the term doesn’t seem to be used much outside of Ontario, where the term “cottage country” means any place on any lake north of Toronto. (There are a lot of them; over 250,000 lakes in Ontario). In the west, they are referred to as “cabins”, in Quebec as “chalets”—and in Russia, “dachas”, or so I am told. They can be rustic, water-access by canoe only simple abodes with outdoor plumbing or they can be multi-million homes on places like Lakes Rousseau or Joseph in the Muskokas, with every kind of cottage toy (ski boat, sea-doos, inflatable floating bouncy castle etc) imaginable. For those fortunate enough to own a cottage—and it is not a small number—many have been in the family for several generations (and will now likely attract a higher capital gains tax when they are passed on to the children, given recent budget changes. So much for the new rules affecting only 0.13 percent of Canadians). But cottage life is also embraced by new Canadians and some are even rented out (God forbid) on platforms like AirBNB.
In my case, our cottage is located in the Kawartha Highlands, Canadian Shield country between the towns of Bancroft and Haliburton. We can drive there on washboard dirt roads. There is hydro (most of the time) but very limited cell coverage. If you walk down the road, and stand on a particular rock in the evening, it usually works. We used to have a landline and dial-up Wifi but it was so slow we gave up, and then the phone company cancelled the “cottage line suspension service” we used to use in the winter. Because, you see, like many cottages, we close up for “the winter” (which generally means between Canadian Thanksgiving in early October and Victoria Day weekend in late May). The power is shut off, the pipes drained, the dock lifted and everything is closed up to await the minus 30C temperatures that sometimes arrive in Jan-Feb.
And then there are the card games, many of them, like cribbage, having been invented a couple of centuries ago. But the Bicycle “Official Rules of Card Games”, first copyrighted in 1887 (our edition is a relatively recent 2006) is indispensable. While the rules of a game (i.e. the mechanics) cannot be protected by copyright–although artwork and design unique to a specific game could be–Bicycle’s edition of the rules is copyrighted because of its editorial content, organization, etc.
The local paper, the Bancroft Times (founded 1894) has its own copyrighted copy. You won’t find Canadian or Associated Press articles here. You will find a blow-by-blow description of the local Council meeting where Council wrestled with the thorny problem of the arena’s deficit and whether to impose user fees on residents of outlying municipalities that were refusing to pay their share of operating expenses. This seems only fair, except the problem arises from the disincentive caused by user fees. If it stops the kids from outside town from using the arena, there won’t be enough players for the hockey league. Thorny local issues. This made me reflect on some of the big journalism issues of the day, such as the OpenAI v New York Times lawsuit (that I wrote about here) concerning OpenAI’s unlicensed use of NYT content to train its Artificial Intelligence (AI) algorithm. This made me wonder if the Times’ (the Bancroft Times, that is) coverage of Bancroft Town Council’s meeting would be scooped up by OpenAI’s AI machine. We hear that AI has an insatiable appetite for data, in fact that within a year or two there may be such a shortage of data for AI training that AI may have to produce its own synthetic data. If there is a data drought, no doubt content in the Bancroft Times will be as important to OpenAI as the content it has purloined from the New York Times.
Another manifestation of AI is the use of copyrighted artwork and photos to produce new AI-generated content. A couple of years ago, while gazing at the lake from the dock, I read about DALL E-2, one of the earlier AI programs that could produce images on demand. I created one using the scenery I was enjoying, titled “Autumn foliage, with Muskoka Chairs in the style of Monet”, to illustrate my blog on “AI and Computer-Generated Art: Its Impact on Artists and Copyright”.
Whether it is broadcasts from “The Moose” (Moose FM Radio, officially known as CHMS-FM), content from the local newspaper, the “Think Turtle Conservation Initiative” that sells signs, decals, and fridge magnets to raise awareness of turtles crossing the road, or information from the local lake association or Fish and Game Club, the integrity of content is protected everywhere by copyright—even at the cottage!
As we approach July 1, Canada Day, Canada’s 157th anniversary, it is worth reflecting on the history that shaped this wonderful if imperfect country of now 41 million. While not top of mind for everyone, part of that history relates to copyright! This year, 2024, marks a couple of milestones in the history of copyright in Canada. It is 200 years since the first copyright bill was introduced into the Assembly of Lower Canada and it is 100 years since the entry into force of the legislation that established Canadian copyright sovereignty, the Copyright Act of 1921. During those two centuries, Canada’s copyright history has paralleled its economic and political development, moving from struggling to assert its independence from Britain to learning to live beside and accommodate the economic colossus south of the border. Internationally Canada moved from largely being, or wanting to be, a copyright outlier to a nation that has fully embraced the international rules-based order of copyright (although there are still some areas that could be strengthened).
As noted by Professor Myra Tawfik in her new book, “For the Encouragement of Learning”[i], on February 9, 1824, a “Bill for the Encouragement of Learning by Securing the Copies of Maps, Charts and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of such Copies during the Times therein mentioned”, was introduced into the Assembly of Lower Canada (now Québec) by François Blanchet, an elected member of the Assembly. This wording mirrored that of the Statute of Anne, the first piece of British copyright legislation protecting authors, adopted in 1710, and the US Copyright Act of 1790. Blanchet’s Bill died on the order paper but subsequently, in 1832, the first piece of copyright legislation in what is now Canada was passed by the Lower Canada Assembly.
The second milestone was the proclamation, on January 1, 1924, of the Copyright Act of 1921 which, with minor amendments, established the copyright framework in Canada for decades until revised in the late 1980s. Although copyright was one of the powers granted to the new Dominion of Canada in 1867, (and indeed Canada passed, or attempted to pass, copyright legislation on several occasions), if that legislation conflicted with British interests and imperial copyright law, it was blocked by the British government. The Copyright Act of 1921 resolved those conflicts. It also brought Canada fully into compliance with the terms of the 1886 Berne Convention, the first international treaty on copyright, which for many years Canada had agitated to leave, having acceded to Berne as part of the British Empire when the Convention was established. (After a perfunctory consultation, Canadian Prime Minister Sir John A. Macdonald had sent a telegram to London agreeing). In 1928, partly as an assertion of sovereignty, Canada acceded to Berne in its own right but subsequently had doubts about having joined (in part because the United States was not a member). Today, Canada has fully embraced the international copyright system through accession to most international copyright treaties and full acceptance of the terms of Berne incorporated into the TRIPS Agreement (Trade Related Aspects of Intellectual Property Rights), part of the World Trade Organization (WTO).
While the 1710 Statute of Anne provided, for the first time, protection to the authors of works, rather than printers, (for an initial period of 14 years, which could be extended for an additional 14 years), it did not apply to any British territories outside Britain, notably not to the North American colonies prior to 1776. Although amendments to the Statute in 1814 provided protection to British authors throughout the Empire, there was no protection for Canadian or other colonial authors unless they arranged to have their works first published in Britain and registered at Stationer’s Hall in London. Not surprisingly, very few did. The Lower Canada Copyright Act of 1832 established the first copyright in Canada for Canadian authors, although it only applied in what is now Quebec. However, after the union of Upper and Lower Canada in 1840 to form the Province of Canada, the 1841 Provincial Copyright Act, modelled on Lower Canada’s 1832 law, applied to both Canada East (Quebec) and Canada West (Ontario). Nova Scotia enacted its own copyright legislation in 1839.
Prof. Tawfik points out that much of the impetus for the introduction of early copyright legislation in British North America (BNA) came from a desire to encourage the publication of Canadian school texts. Given the dearth of local books at the time, various authors of local histories, maps and schoolbooks regularly approached the legislatures of the BNA colonies seeking financial support to print their works, either a subsidy to be provided in advance or a commitment to buy a certain number of the works at a predetermined price. While in some cases, subsidies were granted, a solution to the problem was to introduce a copyright law that would provide a means for authors to be self-sustaining through royalties. As Professor Tawfik notes, government in the colonies “…adopted the position that copyright relieved it of its responsibility to subsidize the printing of books” (p. 148).
Fair dealing was first introduced in Canada in the 1921 Copyright Act. The Act mimicked the 1911 Imperial Copyright Act which had, for the first time, enshrined fair dealing exceptions in British law, providing greater clarity than the previous common law approach. Fair dealing encompassed several exceptions to copyright protection, allowing unlicensed use of copyrighted works for specified purposes. At the time, these purposes were “research, private study, criticism, review or newspaper summary”. However, even if the dealing, or use, fell within these specified categories, other factors were also considered to determine whether the dealing was fair (e.g. amount or nature of the copying). That is essentially the position that prevails in Canada today, except that the list of specified fair dealing exceptions has been broadened to include, in addition to the original categories, parody, satire, and education, while the term “newspaper summary” has been broadened to “news reporting.”
The 1921 Act also brought Canada into conformity with Berne, a key concern of Britain given Canada’s reluctance to comply during the early decades of the Convention. The issue lay with printing rather than authorship and related in large part to the situation in the United States, where the printing lobby held sway in Congress. Initially the US refused to recognize the copyright of non-US residents and US printers freely copied (one might say “pirated”) British and other works. A couple of years ago, I discussed how Canada got caught in the crossfire on this issue. (International Book Piracy: How Canada Got Caught in the 19th Century British-US Copyright Wars). Joining Berne would have required the United States to recognize non-US copyrights (in return for US copyrights being recognized in other Berne countries), so it stayed out. In 1891 Congress passed the Chace Act whereby the US would recognize the copyrights of non-US authors provided that the work was printed in the US. In other words, the US would only recognize foreign copyrights if the foreign works were published there. Canadian printers wanted something similar. The Canadian Parliament tried to pass legislation containing compulsory printing requirements as a condition for allowing foreign and British works to enjoy copyright protection in Canada, only to have these laws blocked by London because of inconsistency with Berne and potential harm to British publishing interests.
While Canada was never able to successfully institute a manufacturing clause linked to copyright as the US did, nevertheless like the US it required registration for a copyright to be valid and limited the term of protection to a fixed number of years after publication. In 1908, the Berne Convention countries abolished registration as a requirement (copyright was established automatically with no formalities upon creation as long as other criteria like originality, nationality, fixation etc. were met), while it also established the minimum term of protection to be the life of the author plus 50 years. Canada was worried that its term of protection would be longer than in the US (giving American authors better protection in Canada than vice versa) and was also wary about abolishing registration. Yet Britain wanted to ratify the 1908 revision and since Canada had entered Berne as part of the British Empire, it needed to get Canada onside to do it.
This finally happened with the 1921 Act, although Canada maintained a compulsory licence provision applicable to non-Berne authors for many years. This was aimed at the US, although it was never used. It was designed as leverage to gain an exemption from the US manufacturing clause for Canadian authors, a measure that was eventually successful. Canada also retained a voluntary registration system. As mentioned above, as part of its goal to assert sovereignty through independent treaty-making, Canada joined the Berne Union as a separate entity in 1928.
Despite full accession, Canada had second thoughts about joining Berne for several decades thereafter, largely because of concerns about printing and a view that copyright generated more income for foreign authors in Canada than for Canadian authors abroad. In the 1960s, Canadian officials viewed the country’s international copyright obligations solely through an economic “balance of trade” lens, considering the amount of royalties paid to foreign authors for distribution of their works in Canada as an economic drain, with little offsetting benefit, ignoring social and cultural objectives entirely.[ii] At one point, Canadian officials even took the risible and unsustainable position that Canada was a “developing country” from a copyright perspective and was therefore entitled to weaken its level of copyright protection. The fact that at the time the UN definition of a developing country was limited to those with a per capita income of less than US$300 per year, and that Canada had the third highest per capita income in the world, did not help Canada’s case. This narrow, utilitarian point of view still has advocates as we saw during relatively recent discussions regarding whether Canada should extend its term of copyright protection to match that of the US, EU, UK, etc., with some commentators claiming (with no credible evidence, as I pointed out here) that extension would cost Canada between $100 million and $450 million annually. Total nonsense.
The problem of net copyright revenue outflow back in the 1950s and 1960s lay not with copyright of course, but with the fact that Canadian authors were not particularly prolific or internationally known at the time. It seems not to have occurred to Canadian officials that a strong reciprocal copyright regime might have fostered the growth of Canadian writing and provided a needed economic incentive. Happily, the explosion of Canadian literature has ended most of the parochialism. In particular, the cultural vibrancy of Quebec creators and their success internationally eventually helped push the Canadian government toward a more pro-creator position by the mid-1980s.
Subsequently, copyright and intellectual property (IP) generally become intertwined with trade policy issues. The Uruguay Round leading to the establishment of the WTO was underway, and IP, including copyright, was one of the issues on the table in the negotiations. The Canada-US Free Trade Agreement of 1989 committed both parties to cooperate in the Uruguay Round and in other international forums to improve the protection of intellectual property. Copyright became “coinage” in the negotiations, to be bundled with other issues (like dairy quotas, automotive rules of origin, or investment rules) as a means to achieve overall negotiating objectives. In 1989, the US finally acceded to the Berne Convention, further harmonizing the international rules governing copyright, and all WTO members incorporated its principal provisions through TRIPS when the WTO was established in 1995. By this time, the World Intellectual Property Organization (WIPO) had been established (in 1970) to manage not only the Berne Convention, but other international treaties related to intellectual property, such as those dealing with patents and trademarks. As Canada has embraced trade liberalization and has meticulously adhered to the rules-based order in international trade out of its own self-interest, it has come to recognize and accept the benefits of a standardized international copyright framework and the benefit this brings in terms of cultural expression and cultural industries.
Copyright in Canada and internationally continues to evolve. The current challenge is AI, and the rules by which AI developers will be able to access copyrighted content to train their algorithms. Will there be a text and data mining (TDM) exception in Canada, similar to the fair dealing exceptions? If so, how broad, or how narrow, should that exception be in order to spur innovation without harming creators and cultural industries? Will there be further international rules to govern how AI and copyright can co-exist, and to what extent will Canada be a player in setting these rules?
Canada evolved from colony to nation as its copyright framework developed over the past 200 years. In the early days, Canada agitated for more control over copyright policy. When it achieved this, it played somewhat of a spoiler role, with one eye always on the US and its impact on Canada and the Canadian market. As Canada matured, it became more committed to playing by and contributing to the international consensus on copyright, although we are still an outlier in some respects, given the situation with educational fair dealing that has decimated the educational publishing industry and the incomes of many authors in Canada. This is a situation not faced in any other country—and needs to be fixed. Although we have come a long way, we still have some lessons to learn. It’s been quite a journey, and the journey continues.
[i] “For the Encouragement of Learning: The Origins of Canadian Copyright Law”, (University of Toronto Press, 2023), p. 48
[ii] Sara Bannerman, in her book “The Struggle for Canadian Copyright”, (UBC Press, 2013) quotes the Secretary of State for External Affairs, in a Memorandum to Cabinet in 1967. Considering the wisdom of Canada staying in the Berne Union, he wrote, “An important consideration…is the fact that about 90 percent of the total cost (about $8 million) of copyright to the public in Canada is accounted for by the protection given foreign works. In turn compensation to Canadian authors by way of payments from overseas to Canada is minimal”. p. 160
The first shoe has dropped for foreign online music and video streamers in Canada, at least those generating more than $25 million a year in “contribution revenues” from the Canadian market. On June 4, the Canadian Radio-television and Telecommunications Commission (CRTC) announced it will be imposing “base contributions” of 5 percent of annual Canadian contribution revenues on streamers such as Netflix, Spotify, Amazon Prime, Disney + etc. as part of the implementation of the Online Streaming Act passed last year. (Canadian streamers associated with a Canadian broadcast entity, i.e. Crave, are exempt). The Act brings online streaming services under the regulatory purview of the broadcast regulator. The “base contributions” are to begin in the 2024-25 broadcast year, beginning September 1 of this year, and are expected to generate in the range of CAD$200 million annually. According to the Minister for Canadian Heritage, Pascale St. Onge, the levy is about “fairness in the system” and will be good for the streamers because it will create more content that will “most likely” go back on their platforms. So why are they not happy? (And they are not).
They are not happy because this is just the first shoe to drop, and while they now know the cost of this shoe, they don’t know what the other shoes are going to cost, what exactly those shoes will look like, or indeed whether they will be allowed to try them on. Because, you see, the rules about who can access the Funds that their money will be going into, and on what terms, have not yet been determined. Key decisions regarding the definition of Canadian content and who can own or control Canadian content (through holding the copyright) are a couple of years down the road. With those decisions could come other requirements, such as allocating a percentage of revenues to production of local content on top of the current “base contribution” to existing Funds, discoverability obligations, and possibly others.
With regard to the top-up of existing funding mechanisms, just about anybody who is anyone in film, TV or music will be lining up to get a share of the $200 million pie. The list includes (and I am not kidding) no less than 11 identified recipients named by the CRTC; the Canadian Media Fund, the Independent Local News Fund, the Black Screen Office Fund, Certified Independent Production Funds supporting OLMC (Official Language Minority Communities), the Indigenous Screen Office Fund, FACTOR and Musicaction, a new temporary fund supporting local news production by commercial radio stations outside designated market, the Canadian Starmaker Fund and Fonds RadioStar, the Community Radio Fund of Canada, direct expenditures targeting the development of Canadian and Indigenous content and, last (and least, in terms of percentage of the funding from audio online undertakings), the Indigenous Music Office. Is anyone missing? What about the Punjabi Weather Network or the Lawn Bowling Broadcast Fund? This is micro-management gone wild.
The 5% contribution funding is divided up into various slivers, some larger than others, by the Solomons at the CRTC. As for the Minister’s optimistic belief that those making the contribution will “most likely” benefit from the content produced, I struggle to see how Netflix or Disney+ will get much out of the Independent Local News Fund (which is currently funded by Canadian cable platforms) or Francophone productions in British Columbia or Alberta. The argument, no doubt, is that this is the price for participating in the Canadian broadcast ecosystem, that now includes online streaming undertakings. Music streamers, on the other hand, will probably benefit from the development of more Canadian talent.
As a consumer of music and audio-visual content, I am also a participant in the broadcast ecosystem and already pay in various ways, through income and sales taxes, and streaming and cable (yes, I am still one of them) subscription fees. I have a hunch I am about to pay more. For several years now the AV streaming services have been on a spending spree in an attempt to grab market share. Profitability came second, but that is rapidly changing as the market matures. And that means subscription fees are going up. (Netflix is killing off the basic subscription I have had for a number of years and given me the choice of a slight price reduction if I put up with ads, or else face a roughly 50% increase in monthly subscription fees. I am still dithering). And this was before the CRTC dropped its latest bombshell. If the CTRC is going to take 5% or more of revenues, simple math tells you there are only a couple of ways to make that up, cut costs or raise prices. “Costs of doing business” inevitably get recovered from customers. If the price of supporting a viable content industry in Canada was limited to a 5% increase in my monthly subscriptions, I would gladly pay but I doubt that my contribution will be limited to 5%.
Ironically, the issue of whether the CRTC should regulate streamers was postponed for years in Canada because of aversion of what was referred to at the time as the “Netflix tax”. No-one knew for sure what that meant; it could have meant imposing sales taxes on a Netflix subscription (which has since been done), or it could have meant a levy on Netflix (which was the first streaming service to enter Canada) to fund Canadian content. But while people weren’t clear on what a Netflix tax was, they knew they didn’t like it. It became a symbol of piling yet one more nuisance fee onto consumers (“carbon tax” anyone”?) and while a small fee on a streaming subscription was unlikely to send anyone to the poor house, politicians from all parties outdid themselves by swearing to avoid any form of Netflix or internet tax.
Serendipitously, I have just finished reading Howard Law’s new book, “Canada vs California-How Ottawa Took on Netflix and the Streaming Giants”, a fascinating deep dive on Bill C-11, which became the Online Streaming Act, and its unsuccessful predecessor Bill C-10. (For those who don’t know, Howard also publishes a weekly blog, MediaPolicy.ca, another essential read for anyone interested in the Canadian media scene). Law devotes an early chapter to “No Netflix Tax 1999-2019” and then goes on to take the reader through the painful teething pains of Bills C-10 and C-11. The term “Netflix tax” has fallen out of use these days but the end result of the imposition of the CRTC “base contribution” on foreign streamers is really no different from an indirect tax.
Alternatively, if the streamers do not fund this new “base contribution” by raising prices to consumers, they will likely compensate for it by spending less elsewhere, i.e. on Canadian production, the very objective for imposing the contribution in the first place. According to MPA-Canada, in 2021-22 “foreign investment in production” (FIIP, a metric for international participation in the film and television production industry in Canada) contributed $875 million to production of Canadian content, about 13% of total financing for Canadian-owned content productions. (This is in addition to the much larger Foreign Location Shooting spend on US productions made in Canada). By comparison, the Canadian Media Fund contributed only 7% of total financing for Canadian productions. The foreign contribution to Canadian production was not far off the $1.09 billion spent by Canadian broadcasters on in-house production. A similar scenario exists in Australia, where the government is also exploring various options to require foreign streaming services to fund local production. Yet the streamers are currently the leading source of production funding for Australian adult drama. In Australia, streaming services invest more in this drama than public, commercial and subscription broadcasters combined, despite having no legal obligation to do so.
What does the US government think of the CRTC’s announcement? That will depend on how hard the foreign streamers push the US Administration to intervene, and right now it is not clear what they will do. Part of the issue is those other dangling shoes. The outcome might not be all that bad for the streamers if they are given fair access to the content they will be required to fund. After all, they need to spend on content to fill their pipeline. But the terms of what payback they will get from their required investments are not clear. A lot will depend on what amount of spend the Commission imposes on foreign streamers for production of Canadian content (Cancon), and how Cancon is defined.
Right now, the Canadian content definition is a complicated formula, set by different funding and regulatory bodies, as I outlined in a blog a couple of years ago, (see “Unravelling the Complexities of the Canadian Content (Cancon) Conundrum”) and as Law outlines in his book. The core is the infamous points system, based on the nationality of key players in the production, plus amount of local spending. In addition, one of the current conditions for a production to be considered Canadian—and thus qualify for tax credits (funding)–is that the copyright and catalogue rights must be held by a Canadian (normally the producer) for a minimum of 25 years. However, the CRTC does not impose a copyright requirement when defining Cancon for broadcast quota purposes. Will this continue when the Commission finally gets around to addressing this issue? That shoe is still hanging there.
If the Cancon definition is tweaked in such a way that the foreign streamers are required to spend a set percentage of local revenues on Canadian content, but at the same time are excluded from being able to acquire such production (i.e. restricted to licensing content they have already invested in), this will be a problem. It is one thing to apply strings when a producer is applying for tax credits (AKA a subsidy). It is quite another to be required to fund production but be excluded from recouping a return on that investment in a way that makes most sense for the funder. With the Cancon definition shoe still dangling, trying to enlist the US Administration to bring pressure on Canada right now may not be the best strategy. Not that this has stopped some of the usual suspects, like the National Foreign Trade Council and the US Chamber of Commerce from weighing in. Their comments are no doubt a marker for future reference if needed. CUSMA/USMCA obligations need to be kept front and centre.
As I noted in an article last year, (“Could or Would the US Retaliate Against the Online Streaming Act (C-11) Now That it is Law?”), “the CRTC must be mindful that foreign streamers who contribute to Canadian productions need to be able to access, acquire and distribute them on an equal footing with Canadian streamers, who face no such limitations”. The CUSMA/USMCA trade agreement requires that cross-border digital services be dealt with on a national treatment basis, i.e. accorded no less favourable treatment than Canadian streaming services. The current proviso that exempts Canadian streaming services associated with a Canadian broadcaster from the 5% levy on revenues is not an auspicious start, but we will have to wait to see what happens.
Regarding the link between Cancon and copyright ownership, I know there are people in the industry in Canada whom I respect who argue this is very important to maintain cultural sovereignty. They feel strongly that it is essential for Canadians to hold the copyright in productions to avoid becoming just service producers. They have a point, although there are other considerations that need to be borne in mind. A Canadian producer should be able to hold the copyright (and assume the risk that the production may not be big earner in future) if they wish, or else assign it, take the money and move on to the next project without the government putting its thumb on the scale of commercial negotiations. And it is not unreasonable for those who provide the funding and invest in a project to be allowed to negotiate commercially on how the asset is exploited.
The CRTC’s June 4 announcement can be considered a down payment or perhaps a first shot across the bow, depending on how you want to look at it. We are in for months, if not years, of more consultations. The CRTC’s own announcements project consultations into 2026, well past the next election. There will be several more shoes to drop, and the political landscape could well change. In the meantime, the streamers will have to start paying into a mixed bag of Funds as directed by the CRTC. As for those all-important details about the regulatory framework, they will come later.
Google, the “indispensable” search engine relied on by millions for accurate and reliable search, has done it again, stepping smack into the pile of steaming excrement waiting for it in the middle of the road. Its most recent ill-starred foray into AI generated search has yielded some hilarious results, lighting up the blogosphere and making Google the butt of many jokes. After flubbing the public launch of its first AI enabled service, Bard, back in early 2023 when the AI driven search function produced the wrong results for a simple question about the James Webb Space Telescope, overnight wiping $100 million off Google’s valuation, Google’s new Gemini “AI Overview” service scored another own goal with its “hallucinatory” responses to questions like how to ensure cheese will stay on pizza (add glue) or how many rocks a day should a human eat. (Only one, in case you were wondering). It also informed users that Barack Obama was the first Muslim President of the United States.
When it comes to AI, “hallucinations” refer to incorrect or misleading results resulting from lack of training data, biased or selective training data, or incorrect assumptions made by the model. Hallucinations leading to trademark dilution was one of accusations levelled against OpenAI and Microsoft by the New York Times in its landmark copyright infringement case that is still working its way through the courts. In this case, the AI algorithm incorrectly attributed the false information to the Times, thus undermining its journalistic credibility, and diluting its trademark, or so the argument goes.
Apparently, the source of the pizza glue misinformation was an old tongue-in-cheek post on Reddit. I guess an AI algorithm has no sense of humour and can’t tell sarcasm from reality. It also gives credibility to conspiracy theories and blatantly false information, such as the Barack Obama example. Normally a search on any subject turns up a variety of sources on Google, some clearly more authoritative than others. Searchers can weigh a Wikipedia entry against a Reddit post against information from a government website or reputable academic institution. Even a plain old tendentious website put up by an advocacy organization can be probed and the bona fides of the source checked out. That is becoming more difficult, or at least less obvious, with the AI generated search summary provided by Google’s AI Overview.
If the search topic falls within AI Overview’s purview (and at the moment, not all do), viewers will see a summary of the information requested drawn from sources chosen by the algorithm. The algorithm decides how much information is drawn from any given site, and which sites are chosen. Users have the option of clicking through to access these and other sites that are displayed (below the annoying sponsored listings). However, many consumers, looking for a quick information fix, will not bother to do this and thus risk taking the AI summary as gospel. If you are being advised to mix glue into your pizza topping, you can probably figure out that something is haywire, but if the summary is only slightly wrong, or is on a subject that you are not familiar with, watch out. A good example was provided by the website Plagiarism Today. It asked Google five questions about copyright in the US. Its conclusion regarding the responses provided by AI Overview? Decidedly mixed. One A, one B, one C, one D and one resounding F.
The accuracy of the summary obviously depends on the sources of information chosen by the algorithm, and the emphasis it chooses to put on information from any given source. Unfortunately, in many instances it does not seem to prefer credible and authoritative sources, but instead goes for those that are popular. That is one of the basic problems of AI generally—quantity over quality, popularity over facts. (By the way, this account of how AI Overview works is based on reading about it from US sources since it is not yet available in Canada, which may be a good thing since I have read various US posts explaining that Overview is impossible to disable and very hard to turn off). Google intends to cram it down your throat whether you want it or not.
Of course, Google assures everyone that Overview is a “good thing” and the early kinks will be ironed out. Many websites are not happy with the new interface that will now exist between themselves and the consumer. They lose traffic when users simply read the AI summary and move on, not visiting the source website. Google used to boast that it had a symbiotic relationship with content providers because it facilitated, and even drove, eyeballs to the sites. No longer. It has appropriated–without permission–content from independent sites to feed AI Overview in the same way that the LLM (Large Language Model) AI developers have scooped up content, including copyrighted content, from rightsholders, without permission, licence or payment to enable their AI training. It is one thing to link to third party content, which requires a visit to the actual site to access the content; it is quite another to freely copy from it and mix it, sometimes inaccurately or inappropriately, with content from other websites that may not be reliable or acceptable sources of information.
Google clearly controls what goes into AI Overview and has said that it will apply more filters. If it can screen out sources of sarcasm and parody, it clearly has the capacity to install other filters that could differentiate trustworthy information from garbage. This might require Google to license the use of this curated information (Horrors! Google having to pay for the information of others that it so freely uses!). Licensing has already begun for content used for generative AI training. News Corp has just signed a licensing deal with OpenAI, as has the AP and the Financial Times. Licensing is at the heart of the dispute that OpenAI is facing with the New York Times.
Licensing presupposes knowledge of what inputs are being used, a requirement now enshrined in EU law which requires that AI developers maintain an inventory of works used for training purposes (transparency). This will allow rightsholders to opt out or negotiate a licensing solution unless the copying meets the text and data mining exception (i.e. for research by research and cultural organizations).
However, Silicon Valley has variously proclaimed that (a) it is impossible to track all the information ingested during AI training; (b) it would bankrupt the industry should they have to pay for content (c) they need to use copyrighted content because there is not enough current public domain information available (d) it is not feasible to filter out or identify specific works amongst the millions of datapoints that it ingests (e) everything that it does is fair use anyway (f) all of the above. Google’s embarrassment, and its apparent ability to finetune AI Overview, demonstrates that it is clearly feasible to filter out certain works and types of content. It is the will to do so generally that is lacking. Meanwhile, the number of lawsuits brought by rightsholders against AI developers continues to multiply.
By making itself the object of social media ridicule, and then admitting it can address the problem, Google has actually done us all a favour by highlighting the “garbage in; garbage out” problem. Not all copyrighted material is responsible or accurate but a good chunk of it is, such as professional journalism and academic journals. Access to that material is essential to provide credible results. And that material needs to be paid for, on terms set by the content owners.
The solution is not to stop the development of generative AI; for one thing, that won’t happen. It is to corral it, improve it and make it more trustworthy, if necessary with penalties if it is not. The penalties could be imposed by the market (i.e. Google search is not reliable so I will go elsewhere) or, in certain cases, by regulation. Licensing of accurate, credible information to drive search will inevitably distinguish the fake from the real and dubious from the trustworthy. This is what any credible search engine seeks. It is market gold.
Google, open your bulging wallet and start licensing content that will make us want to continue to try you first to get reliable information. Right now, through your clumsy rollout of AI supported search, you are rapidly losing that trust. It is also not acceptable to plagiarize someone else’s content, mix it with garbage from some other source, and serve it up on a platter to consumers on the pretext that this is the definitive answer. The result, as we have seen, is gluey pizza.
In my last blog post, I discussed the annual Special 301 Report issued by the Office of the US Trade Representative (USTR). The Report is a global survey of the intellectual property (IP) practices of a number of US trading partners, a kind of “report card” in which those that “fail” (badly) are named to a Priority Watch List (PWL) and those that fail, but not so badly (and so are encouraged to do better), are put on the Watch List (WL). The purpose is to highlight practices that damage the interests of American IP-based businesses and IP stakeholders in order, eventually, to get them changed. While one can quibble with some of the IP “transgressions” identified by USTR in its wide-ranging survey, removing or modifying the IP impediments identified in the Report generally speaking results in better outcomes for innovation and creativity both for US IP interests and foreign rightsholders, at least in the area of copyright. (The practices, laws and policies named in the Report are not restricted to copyright; they cover the full range of IP issues such as patents, trade secrets, industrial designs, geographic indications and trademark infringements/counterfeiting). I am going to restrict my commentary today solely to copyright issues.
Since the Report is a US government document mandated by US legislation, and deals with US foreign trade, it is not surprising that problematic IP issues inside the United States are not included in the document. Thus, US rightsholders are deprived of the salutary effect that arises from shining a spotlight on such practices. Were the USTR to hold up a mirror to the US and apply the same sort of critical analysis it applies to other countries, what would be the result? We will never know as USTR has no mandate to publish such a document; the closest it came to criticizing a US company was its inclusion of Amazon’s non-US affiliates in its 2020 “Notorious Markets” list which forms part of the Special 301 Report. Since USTR will never publish a Watch List that includes the United States, someone needs to step into the breach, hold up that mirror and attempt to write what a US Watch List designation might look like. That someone will be me. However, as noted, the commentary will be based exclusively on copyright issues; I am not going to tread into the minefield of patent trolls, counterfeit products, trade secrets or any of the other aspects of IP that are also grist to USTR’s mill.
In assessing what a US Watch List citation might look like, I will follow the same general approach that USTR applies when it passes judgement on the copyright practices of other countries. A measure doesn’t have to discriminate against US IP interests or rightsholders to be included in the Special 301 Report (i.e. it doesn’t matter if US rightsholders are granted national treatment; USTR can still object to the practice), so I will apply that principle. In judging whether to include criticism of certain US measures, or lack of them, I will be guided by the sort of issues that USTR identifies in the practices of other countries named to the PWL or WL. Since I know a bit about copyright in Canada, and since Canada is again on this year’s WL as it has been for the past couple of decades (except when it was downgraded to the PWL), I will use Canada as my principal marker.
For example, in this year’s Special 301 Report in which Canada once again features on the Watch List, the USTR Report critically notes that “Levels of online piracy remain very high in Canada, including through direct downloads and streaming”. In actual fact, Canada is a relatively minor league player when it comes to online piracy. According to the brand protection website Bytescare, Canada doesn’t even rank in the top 20. The list is dominated by Russia, China, India, Brazil etc, and the United States. In fact, according to Variety, the US is the leading source of online piracy globally with 13.5 billion visits to piracy sites annually. Aha, you say, but what about the rate of piracy? Canada’s population is only 40 million so no wonder it is not as high on the list as some others in terms of total piracy visits. According to the Canadian Internet Registration Authority, as quoted by Global News, Canada’s piracy rate in 2022 was a shocking 22.5 %. The US rate in the same year? As estimated by media research firm Parks Associates, it was 22% is but expected to rise to 24.5 percent by 2027. So I guess the US should be called out for its high levels of online piracy. After all, what is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander.
I will draw on another example from this year’s USTR Report to justify inclusion of a separate observation in my assessment, regarding music royalties. This year, Barbados is singled out for, among other things, “the refusal of Barbadian television and radio broadcasters and cable and satellite operators to pay for public performance of music.” But guess what? Neither does the US, in certain circumstances. As I outlined in this blog (“The American Music Fairness Act (AMFA): A Better and Fairer Solution for Performers than Seeking “National Treatment”), US terrestrial radio stations are not required to pay royalties to performers or labels for playing recorded music on air, a longstanding practice that dates back to the early days of radio. The same free ride does not apply to digital broadcasters and streaming services. Terrestrial AM/FM radio stations are required to pay royalties to composers and songwriters for music played on air, but not to performers. The US is the only developed country jurisdiction to provide such an advantage to terrestrial broadcasters, although since 1997 Canada has had a carve out whereby commercial radio broadcasters are required to pay only $100 in performance royalties on the first $1.25 million in advertising revenue. Needless to say, this is opposed by Canadian performing rights organizations.
The US AM/FM exception denies royalties to US performers for music played on US terrestrial radio, but it also applies to foreign performers when their music is similarly played in the US. For this reason, many countries, including Canada, apply or applied a reciprocity provision (an exception to national treatment) to payment of royalties to US performers when their music is played terrestrially. Unable to get the US Congress to change US law, US performing rights organizations convinced the US government to seek national treatment in Canada with respect to all categories of IP covered in the IP chapter of the USMCA/CUSMA, a goal that was achieved when the new Agreement was signed. Thus, US performers in Canada now get equivalent treatment to Canadian performers; in other words, they get better IP protection in Canada than they do (or Canadian performers do) in the US. Yet Canada is on the USTR Watch List. Sauce for the goose…
That is some of the background to my decision to put the United States on the Watch List in 2024 for copyright-related issues. There are other reasons as well. I know you want to read the full reasoning, so here goes;
The United States remains on the Watch List for 2024. Despite a strong legal framework in place, the US continues to be the source of the largest number of visits to online pirate sites globally. Unfortunately, unlike some 40 countries globally, including USMCA partner Canada, the US has been unsuccessful in implementing any form of site blocking legislation. Site blocking has proven to be an effective and low cost tool, in combination with other measures, to reduce visits to pirate websites and to convert users to legitimate sources of online content. The US authorities are encouraged to work with Congress to put in place an effective mechanism to implement site-blocking in order to reduce high rates of piracy estimated to be in the vicinity of 25% of users. We also have continuing concerns about the inadequacy of US law in protecting performance rights for music played on terrestrial radio stations. The United States is the only developed country that provides an exception for payment of performance royalties for terrestrial stations, a situation that has led to the denial of performance royalty payments to US musicians and labels on the basis of reciprocity in a number of countries where it has not been possible to obtain a national treatment commitment to protect US performers. We remain deeply concerned by stakeholder reports that a 2020 Supreme Court ruling in the US (Allen v Cooper), that upheld the ability of US states to impair the rights of copyright holders based on the principle of sovereign immunity, remains unaddressed. This interpretation opens the door to widespread “legalized infringement” by state operated institutions, such as state university libraries. With regard to fair use, we are encouraged by recent court rulings that suggest a more narrowly defined interpretation of “transformative use” is being applied by US courts in adjudicating fair use claims. We are also encouraged by the passage of legislation to increase criminal penalties for illegal streaming (the Protect Lawful Streaming Act) but note that the legislation has been rarely used since it came into effect in 2020 and urge the US Department of Justice to take full advantage of the tools at its disposal to curb the high rate of online piracy and illegal streaming in the United States. We look forward to working with the United States to resolve these and other important issues.
So there you have it, a slightly cheeky (and tongue-in-cheek) Watch List designation for the US, aka “The Watch List Designation You Will Never See”. I hope this doesn’t upset my many Stateside friends. It is offered in the spirit of “no one is perfect”. All we can do is strive for perfection through learning from each other.
Apart from the budding of leaves, the rites of spring are marked by another annual phenomenon, the issuance of the annual Special 301 Report by the Office of the United States Trade Representative (USTR), widely known as the USTR Watch List. For those not steeped in US trade law, the Special 301 report dates back to the late 1980s and is based on the US Trade Act of 1974, later amended to take intellectual property (IP) issues into account. As stated by USTR, the process is “the outcome of a Congressionally-mandated annual review of the global state of intellectual property (IP) rights protection and enforcement”. Global, that is, except for the United States (More on this later). That is because the legislation requires USTR “to identify countries that deny adequate and effective IP protections or fair and equitable market access to U.S. persons who rely on IP protection”(Federal Register). In other words, it is a US government document that catalogues and categorizes the state of IP protection in othercountries if their conditions are considered to be impediments to US exports and/or result in US companies or rights-holders being treated unfairly. The practices identified relate to lack of effective legal protection resulting from lax enforcement (e.g. weak border control of counterfeit products or ineffective anti-piracy measures to protect copyrighted content) or deficient laws (loopholes or lack of legislation in key areas resulting in a failure to protect IP rights adequately), policies that weaken or fail to respect IP standards, at least as interpreted by USTR, and non-transparent, discriminatory or other forms of trade restrictions that impede access to copyright protected content. The exact wording, taken from USTR’s website can be found at the end of this blog.[i]
Note that the policies of the identified countries in question–or lack of policies in some cases–don’t have to discriminateagainst US rightsholders in order to be included in the USTR report. Normally in trade agreements, “national treatment” is sought in order to avoid discrimination on the basis of nationality, i.e. foreign products and services (in this case US goods and services) should be given the same treatment as domestic equivalents. There is also an expectation that a country’s domestic laws (which form the basis of national treatment) will be consistent with its trade agreement commitments. So, for example, if Ruritania has wide exceptions in its domestic copyright law that permit indiscriminate downloading of music and movies, (let’s say there is an exception “for purposes of cultural appreciation”), this does not directly discriminate against US music labels and studios. Even domestic Ruritanian content producers are affected by this very loose fair use regime although in real-life terms this lopsided legislation would affect US interests significantly more than Ruritanian, since the majority of the content consumed in Ruritania is of US origin. However, since US products have been accorded national treatment, the US would find it difficult to bring a trade dispute case. This is where the Watch List comes in handy since USTR can list any practice it feels justified in calling out without being restricted by the limitations of international trade agreements.
While in the Ruritanian case US interests are disadvantaged by the law’s interpretation, so too is the nascent local content industry, i.e. the limited number of Ruritanian music and film producers who are also getting ripped off. The locals can’t seem to get much traction for changes to the law (because who doesn’t like something for free)? Here again the Watch List can play a role. By working with US IP interests, the USTR 301 Report provides an indirect means for domestic IP stakeholders to bring their concerns to the attention of their own government, assuming that Ruritanian officials are responsive to concerns raised by USTR. So, in this way a unilateral US process can be an effective vehicle to raise all IP boats, although the direct focus is on protecting US intellectual property interests.
The Watch Lists embedded in the Special 301 report are compiled from submissions provided by US companies and trade associations in response to a Federal Register notice. These inputs are then vetted by officials in US embassies and consulates overseas, with additional input from various US government agencies. The final decision as to who is placed on which list and for what reason is decided by USTR. There are essentially two lists, a “Priority Watch List” (PWL), where countries facing the most serious allegations of inadequate IP protection and enforcement are named. Being on the PWL could result in USTR initiating formal trade investigations or imposing sanctions if there is no improvement. The second list is the “Watch List” (WL), a longer list of countries where the USTR has concerns about their IP practices but the issues are not as serious as in those countries placed on the PWL. For WL countries, the focus is on monitoring and “encouraging” change. Thus, while each situation is a bit different, the outcome of the process can range from pressure and threats to encouragement and reward. When the hearings are held, foreign embassies will often appear to explain their government’s policies in an attempt to stay off the designation list. Some countries take this process very seriously, others less so. In years past, countries like Taiwan, the Philippines and Malaysia regularly appeared on the Watch List. Over time, they addressed the issues of concern and no longer have the dubious honour of being named.
Other countries, like Canada, seem less concerned about being named, at one point calling the USTR report “… invalid and analytically flawed because the process relies primarily on US industry allegations rather than empirical evidence and objective analysis”. Or maybe the Canadian government has realized that no matter what actions it takes, the goal posts will move as new complaints surface from one US industry or another (BigPharma doesn’t like the pharmaceutical approval process in Canada, US food producers don’t like the recognition Canada accorded to European Geographical Indications in the Canada-EU Trade Agreement, or whatever), and it will continue to be designated as has been the case for at least the past 20 years.
As an example, for many years one of the US complaints was that Canadian border officials did not have ex-officio authority allowing them to seize counterfeit goods in transit (presumably enroute to the US from China or somewhere). That issue was fixed in the update to NAFTA (the USMCA/CUSMA) but now the complaint is that “Canadian authorities have yet to take full advantage of expanded ex officio powers”. Not that this would surprise me. CBSA, the Canadian Border Services Agency, seems to be particularly challenged these days. CBSA’s ineptness extends to an apparent inability to stop a massive movement of stolen Canadian vehicles being shipped in containers through the Port of Montreal to the Middle East and Africa. Given the criminal networks engaged in this large-scale, well-organized theft and hijacking of cars, (which has become an epidemic in Toronto—full disclosure, members of my family have been victimized with cars being stolen from in front of their home in the middle of the night three times in the past 24 months), perhaps using their ex-officio authority to interdict the transit of counterfeit goods is not high on CBSA’s to-do list.
Apart from industry complaints, it would be fair to say that broader political factors also sometimes enter into designation decisions. For example, for many years Ukraine was regularly named to the Priority Watch List for a range of IP transgressions. While its IP record has probably not markedly improved, it is fighting for its life against Russian aggression and presumably strengthening its IP laws is not a current top priority. Therefore, reasonably, the review of Ukraine has been “suspended” although it is not off the hook. Other countries that figure regularly on the “Priority Watch List” (PWL), constitute the “usual suspects”, the ones you would expect to be on such a list; China, Russia, India, Venezuela and three or four others. In 2024, there were 7 PWL countries. There were also 20 named to the less serious “Watch List” category, among them places like Algeria, Belarus, Pakistan, and Turkemenistan, (Uzbekistan was removed this year) but also NAFTA partners Canada and Mexico.
During the USMCA/CUSMA negotiations in 2018, under the Trump Administration, Canada was downgraded to the PWL, the most serious transgressor category. As I commented at the time, this was clearly a politically-driven negotiating tactic to exert pressure on Canada during the negotiations and, frankly, strained the credibility of the process by equating a rule of law country like Canada with other countries on that year’s PWL. Not that Canada has clean hands. This year’s USTR comments about Canada’s Watch List designation cite several concerns. One is the failure of CBSA to fully exploit its ex-officio powers, mentioned above. There is also concern that the courts are not issuing sufficient deterrent level penalties when those trafficking in counterfeit goods are caught. There is also the allegation that “Levels of online piracy remain very high in Canada, including through direct downloads and streaming. Piracy devices, apps, and subscription services are reportedly sold throughout Canada, both in physical retail locations and through online channels.” All probably true, but is the problem any worse in Canada than in the US? See my next blog.
The USTR report also includes a concern with which I very much agree, namely, “the broad interpretation of the fair dealing exception for the purpose of education, which…has significantly damaged the market for educational authors and publishers”. However, I suspect that even if the Canadian government finally got around to fixing this injustice (which I hope will be the case), Canada would still be on the WL some other reason.
To summarize, the Special 301 Watch List process has been effective in raising IP standards generally in many areas globally but is not immune from influence arising from US domestic political factors. It is also consciously not designed to identify IP shortcomings in the United States. But what if the US was also reviewed under the Special 301 provisions? If USTR applied the same critical lens to IP practices in the United States that it applies to other countries, (at least in the area of copyright), what would a US Watch List designation look like? The results might be surprising to some readers. To find out what this might look like, stay tuned for my next blog post, “The USTR Watch List Designation You Will Never See”.
[i] The Report identifies a wide range of concerns that limit innovation and investment, including: (a) the deterioration in the effectiveness of IP protection and enforcement and overall market access for persons relying on IP in a number of trading partner markets; (b) reported inadequacies in trade secret protection in countries around the world, as well as an increasing incidence of trade secret misappropriation; (c) troubling “indigenous innovation” policies that may unfairly disadvantage U.S. rights holders in foreign markets; (d) the continuing challenges of copyright piracy and the sale of counterfeit trademarked products on the Internet; (e) additional market access barriers, including nontransparent, discriminatory or otherwise trade-restrictive, measures that appear to impede access to healthcare and copyright-protected content; and (f) ongoing, systemic IP enforcement issues at borders and in many trading partner markets around the world.
Canada not the US when it comes to copyright—or anything else. This should be a statement of the obvious, but in fact all too often Canadians get confused about how copyright (and other) laws work in this country because of the overwhelming influence of US entertainment and, to a lesser extent, US media content in Canada. For example, during the truckers convoy to Ottawa a couple of years ago, some of those arrested protested that they weren’t read their “Miranda rights”. (Right to remain silent, etc). They’d been watching too much US television. Miranda rights do not apply in Canada although Canada does have similar “Charter rights” that include the right to be informed of the alleged offence and the right to counsel. Likewise, in the area of copyright, Canadians will often refer to “fair use”, even though the US fair use doctrine does not apply in Canada. In particular, the application of a “transformation” test by US courts as one consideration in determining fair use has no applicability in Canadian law. Just as Canada has a similar but not identical concept to Miranda rights, it also has user exceptions to copyright through the fair dealing exceptions specified in the Copyright Act. However, while there are many similarities, fair dealing and fair use have some important differences, in Canada as elsewhere.
The Public Domain in Canada and the US: Not the Same
Yet one more important difference between Canada and the US is the date on which copyright protection expires, allowing various works to fall into the public domain. Although the term of copyright protection in Canada is now “life of the author plus 70 years”, the same as in the US since the extension of Canada’s term of protection at the end of 2022 as a result of commitments Canada made in the CUSMA/USMCA, there are still many works protected by copyright in the US that are in the public domain in Canada. This is primarily because of Canada’s shorter “life plus 50 year term” that was in force for many years until the recent change. The extension of copyright protection in Canada in 2022 does not apply retroactively to works already in the public domain. A few years ago I wrote a blog post about F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby, recounting how it was in the public domain in Canada yet still under copyright protection in the US. As a result, Canadian publishers could freely reprint the work, and some did, like Broadview Press, but they could not legally sell it in the US.
The Historical Context
This harkens back to the bad old days in the 19th century when Canadian printers would frequently publish US works without obtaining rights from the author since at the time US registered works enjoyed copyright protection only within the United States, just as British or Canadian works were protected only in Britain and its possessions. Thus, reprinting US works in Canada without permission from the US rightsholder was legal. What was not legal was the smuggling of these Canadian-printed US works back into the US at cut-rate prices, a situation that led Mark Twain to lament his mistrust of “Canadian pirates”. (Just to be clear, I am not suggesting that modern Canadian publishers of US works that are in the public domain in Canada but not in the US are engaged in illicit supply of those books to US readers). At the time this Canadian “piracy” was going on, US printers were treating British works similarly, freely reprinting them for sale in the US without having obtained or needing to obtain the rights, as I discussed in this blog post. Because of its geographical position adjacent to the US yet still subject to certain imperial laws, Canada found itself caught in the crossfire of the Anglo-American copyright wars of the late 19th century. With the signing of the Berne Convention in 1886, and the passage of legislation in the US in 1891 that provided for reciprocal recognition of national copyrights under certain conditions, this problem was largely resolved.
Anne of Green Gables
While at the present time copyright protection in the US is generally longer than in Canada for the same works, at times Canadian copyrights have been longer than those in the US. This is particularly true of that quintessential early Canadian work, Anne of Green Gables. If you will allow me to go down the copyright nerd rabbit hole for a second, I will explain how this occurred.
Lucy Maude Montgomery’s work was published first in the United States in 1908. Like many Canadian writers at the time, she thought her chances of getting published south of the border were better than in Canada. Under then US law (the Copyright Act of 1909), the work was entitled to 28 years of protection from date of publication, subject to a further 28 years of protection if the rights-holder renewed the rights in the 28th year. The book’s publisher, L.C. Page & Co. of Boston, was assiduous in protecting its rights and ensured that the term of protection was extended, which provided protection until 1964. However, beginning in 1963, the US Congress annually passed interim extensions to works still under copyright, in anticipation of a major overhaul of US copyright law. Thus the work was still protected when the US Copyright Act of 1976 came into effect on January 1, 1978. That legislation converted the US term of protection for books from a set period after publication to the more widely accepted rule of author’s life plus a specified number of years, in this case fifty.
The Berne Convention countries had recommended “life plus 50” as the minimum standard of protection in 1908 and incorporated it as a requirement in 1948. The US now joined this consensus (although it did not join Berne at that time). The new US “life plus 50” rules applied to all works created after January 1, 1978, but what to do about earlier works? Pre-1978 works were subject only to a 56 year term of protection after publication, so Congress extended the period of supplementary protection under the old legislation (28 years) by an additional 19 years, making the full term for a registered older work 75 years (28 for the original term and 47 for the supplementary term) from the date of publication. This 19-year extension provided copyright protection to the 1908 Anne of Green Gables up to 1983 in the US. Meanwhile, Canada had been following the Berne “life plus 50” standard since the early 1920s. Thus, the copyright on Anne of Green Gables (or any of Montgomery’s other works) in Canada was protected until January 1, 1993, almost a decade longer than in the US, Montgomery having died in April 1942.
The lapse of copyright on Anne in both the US and Canada has not, however, stopped the Montgomery estate and the Government of Prince Edward Island, which has set up the Anne Authority, from vigorously pursuing legal action against any usurpers of the Anne trademarks that they have registered. A couple of years ago they threatened the US producers of an Anne spin off, a musical called Anne of Green Gables: A New Musical, with a lawsuit for trademark violation. The producers countersued, claiming that Anne was as much in the public domain as Shakespeare. In the end, both sides dropped their suits and the musical continued in production.
The US Extends its Term in 1998: Why?
While Anne’s copyright lapsed in Canada later than in the US, ever since the US extended its terms of copyright from “life plus 50” to “life plus 70” in 1998, the shoe is normally on the other foot. There are critics in the US that claim Congress passed the extension to satisfy the Walt Disney Company, given that some of Disney’s corporate copyrights were close to expiring, notably the copyright on Mickey Mouse. Steamboat Willie first appeared in 1928. As I wrote in a blog post a couple of years ago, (The Mickey Mouse Copyright Extension Myth: A Convenient “Straw Man” to Attack), that is hogwash. Of course, Disney was not opposed to extending the term of copyright protection, but whatever lobbying it did was not the primary reason for the US action. The main motivation was to bring US copyright into line with that of the EU. The EU had harmonized its copyright term (which varied widely between member states) to a common “life plus 70” standard in 1993. Since the extra 20 years were beyond the required Berne minimum, the EU was free to apply a reciprocity clause, which it did in order to encourage other countries to follow its example. It would extend the longer period of protection to non-EU authors only if EU authors received similar protection in the other country. This was a permitted derogation from the normal national treatment rule in Berne whereby any member state was required to accord a foreign copyright holder equivalent treatment to that provided to its own nationals.
The adding of an additional 20 years to US copyright protection had an additional wrinkle beyond going from “life plus 50” to “life plus 70” for post-1978 works. When the US changed its term to life of the author plus 50 years back in 1978 , recall that it instituted a provision for works protected under the old regime (where protection began from the date of publication) by rounding up the period of protection post-publication to 75 years. When it added 20 years to the “life plus” formula in 1998, Congress also added 20 years to the protection afforded works published pre-1978. Thus, these earlier works were now protected for 95 years from the date of publication.
Steamboat Willie
This leads us to Steamboat Willie and the frenzy that took place amongst public domain advocates when Willie entered the public domain on January 1 of this year. Almost every US broadcast and media outlet had a lead article on this “amazing development”, but Canadians were not spared. The CBC, Globe and Mail, Toronto Star, and others–even some Canadian law firms—breathlessly touted the entry of the mouse into the public domain, without bothering to even reference how Canadian copyright law applied. Some of them simply picked up a syndicated AP story, but none bothered to mention the salient but apparently unreportable fact that Willie was already in the public domain in Canada–and had been for two years! Apparently nobody noticed.
All the nonsense about works entering the US public domain on January 1 each year is designed to promote the narrative that these works have somehow been released from bondage, and that new explosions of creativity using the stories and characters are about to appear. Winnie the Pooh was the star of the show back in 2022, with the CBC grabbing the story, neglecting to mention that author A.A. Milne’s works had been in the public domain in Canada since 2007, (50 years after Milne’s passing). It’s total rubbish, with the new “creative works” emerging from this process leaving more than a little to be desired.
Why was Willie in the Public Domain in Canada but not the US?
This is yet another copyright rabbit hole to explore. Hang on. Willie entered the public domain in the US in 2024 because of the 95 year rule mentioned earlier. Pre-1978 published US works are subject to this rule (unless the copyright was not renewed in the 28th year). Thus, Steamboat Willie, having first appeared in 1928, entered the public domain in the US this January. But Canada does not apply this rule. Its term of protection is based on the life of the author or authors (in the case of joint authorship). In the case of Steamboat Willie, there were two co-authors who held the copyright, Walt Disney and Ub Iwerks.
In his blog post “Mickey Mouse and the public domain”, copyright officer at Simon Fraser University in Vancouver, Donald Taylor, takes us through the details. Disney and Iwerks were the creators of the character. Disney died in 1966, Iwerks (a noted animator who created many Disney characters), died in 1971. With joint authorship, the term is based on the lifespan of the last survivor. Thus, in Canada, under the “life plus 50” rule that prevailed until the end of 2022, Steamboat Willie went into the Canadian public domain on January 1, 2022. Had Iwerks not died until 1972, the extended term that became effective in Canada on December 30, 2022 would have protected Willie in Canada until 2042. I wonder what the Canadian media outlets who prattled on earlier this year about Willie’s public domain entry on January 1 would have had to say then?
Willie and the Rule of the Shorter Term in Europe
There is even one more wrinkle in this, as pointed out by Taylor. Some countries have been applying the “life plus 70” rule for many years. In Germany it has been in effect since 1971, therefore in theory Willie should be protected in Germany until 2042. However, under something called the “rule of the shorter term”, (which allows the EU to apply the “shorter term” i.e. “life plus 50” to countries that do not match the EU’s “life plus 70” term), there is a provision that if a work enters the public domain in the country of its origin, then it will also be in the public domain of a country implementing the “rule of the shorter term.” Brazil does not apply this rule, so Willie is protected there until 2042, but he is now in the public domain in Germany. Incidentally, the EU’s application of the shorter term rule (the US does not apply it) provided additional benefits for Canadian authors when Canada extended its term in 2022, since Canadian works in the EU now get full national treatment, i.e. equal treatment with EU authors of “life plus 70”. What a rabbit hole!
When it comes to copyright, there is always something new to explore, a new wrinkle, a rabbit hole if you will. If there is one lesson that we can draw from all this, it’s don’t assume that what applies in the US when it comes to copyright (or any other law, for that matter) has any direct bearing on the situation in Canada, no matter what you see on TV, read in the Canadian press or hear on the CBC.
Editor’s Note: This post has been updated. The second and third paragraphs in the section headed “Anne of Green Gables” have been modified to explain that the work did not fall into the public domain in the US in 1964 (56 years after publication), only to have its copyright revived and extended after the implementation of the US Copyright Act of 1976. Rather, it continued to be protected as a result of a series of interim extensions passed by Congress until the enactment of the 1976 Act, at which time the term of pre-1978 works was extended by an additional 19 years, to 75 years from date of publication. As a result, in the case of Anne of Green Gables, its US copyright expired in 1983, as stated.
Two years ago, in April 2022, the US Copyright Office (USCO) appointed its first Chief Economist, Dr. Brent Lutes. Many national Intellectual Property Offices have such a position, e.g, UK IPO, IP Australia, EUIPO, and WIPO. (Notably, Canada’s Intellectual Property Office–CIPO–does not). All these positions have broad responsibility for assessing the economics of IP generally, covering patent, trademark, industrial designs as well as copyright. In the US, the Patent and Trademark Office has its own Chief Economist. However, Lutes’ USCO position appears to be the only one related exclusively to assessing the economic impact of copyright. The position sits within the Office of Policy and International Affairs and is composed of a small team of economists, providing the Register of Copyrights, Shira Perlmutter, with policy-relevant research on economic issues related to copyright.
In an interview conducted last month, Lutes talked about the economic goals of copyright in terms of enhancing social welfare. He noted the goal of copyright is to contribute to the welfare of society by promoting access to creative works, now and in the future, through market based behavioural incentives. The goal of the Office of Chief Economist is to gather more information to inform policy making, such as the geographic distribution of copyright activity or the demographic characteristics of creators. As but one example, is racial or ethnic diversity related to creativity? The economic issues surrounding AI and copyright, both pro and con, is another field of research the USCO will be exploring.
In addition to finding the right economic levers to stimulate production of creative works, economic studies of copyright also demonstrate the enormous impact copyright-based industries have on national economic welfare. While the impact can depend on what economic multipliers are used and how direct versus indirect benefits are calculated, there is no question that copyright industries in most economies are very significant as job creators and multipliers. For example, IP Australia in its most recent annual report estimates that cultural and creative activity contributes about 6% of Australian GDP annually, with design, fashion, publishing, broadcasting, electronic and digital media and film being the primary industries involved. In the US the figures are even more impressive. According to the International Intellectual Property Alliance, in 2021 (the last year for which statistics are apparently available), core copyright industries in the US, defined as those industries “whose primary purpose is to create, produce, distribute or exhibit copyright materials”, added $1.8 trillion to US GDP, accounting for 7.76% of the economy. Total copyright industries, a definition that includes industries partially dependent on copyright, such as fabric, jewellery or toys and games, account for another trillion USD, even when only a portion of their total value is included in the copyright calculation.
The UK Intellectual Property Office published its IP survey in 2022, comparing the role of patents, trademark, registered industrial designs and copyright. While copyright industries were on the low side for exports (£4.7 billion as opposed to patents at £120.6 billion, copyright’s “non-financial value-added output” (IP data is not available for the financial industries, thus the description of “non-financial”) trounced that of patent industries by almost 2:1. As with the US IIPA study, the UK report accounted for the degree to which certain industries depend on copyright, categorizing them as core, interdependent, partial or non-dedicated support industries, adjusting the amount of copyright contribution accordingly. Book publishing, for example, is considered a 100% copyright industry and its value is calculated as such, whereas for an industry such as paper manufacturing, only 25% of the value was included in the calculation of copyright benefits. This methodology followed that of the World Intellectual Property Organization, aka WIPO, which also conducts economic studies as well as assists national authorities with their own. Economists are careful people, not prone to exaggeration, and consistent methodology is important to ensure accurate measurement and reporting.
WIPO worked with the Department of Canadian Heritage to produce a report in 2020 on “The Economic Impact of Canada’s Copyright-Based Industries”. As with other deep dives on the economic benefits of copyright, this study produced similar notable statistics. For example, while many copyright opponents in Canada were deploring the extension of the copyright term of protection in Canada, arguing that the result would be an outflow of royalties to foreign rights-holders because Canada was a net importer of copyrighted materials, the Heritage report established that “Canada has exported more copyright-related services than it has imported, maintaining a trade balance surplus from 2009 ($2.5 billion) to 2019 ($5.6 billion)”. In actual fact, extending the copyright term in Canada brought with it the additional benefit of a reciprocal extended term in many foreign countries for Canadian works, clearly benefiting Canadian rights-holders. The Heritage study went on to document a range of other important outcomes such as employment (over 600,000), contribution to GDP ($95.6 billion) and percentage of GDP (4.9%). All figures are based on 2019 data. No update has been published since. It is just as well that Heritage Canada took the lead in preparing this report since the government department holding lead statutory responsible for copyright in Canada, the mammoth Department of Industry, Science and Economic Development (ISED), unfortunately seems to treat copyright as but a tiny pimple on its elephantine rump.
While the studies cited above highlight the economic contribution that copyright industries make to national economies in terms of jobs and wealth generation, let us not forget the key point that Dr. Lutes underlined regarding the social welfare contribution of copyright through using market-based incentives to promote and encourage creativity and investment in creative outputs. It is hard, if not impossible, to put a dollar amount on the social welfare benefits of creative expression and cultural sovereignty, but they are immense if incalculable. Without copyright, not only would existing content-based industries be unable to thrive and expand, but the formula to encourage new, original content would be missing.
Notwithstanding the importance of a robust copyright framework for both economic and social welfare, creators and content-based copyright industries are facing major challenges today. Some are technological, like the emergence of generative AI; some behavioural, such as a wide tolerance, even acceptance, of piracy and free riding. The struggle against piracy is ongoing and protracted, a cat and mouse game. Free riding is what AI developers are doing on the backs of content creators through unauthorized training of AI models on copyrighted content, with resultant legal challenges. There is also the question of whether wholly AI generated works should be accorded copyright protection. As the Copyright Alliance has observed, the Copyright Clause in the US Constitution is premised on the promotion of the “progress of science and useful arts” by protecting for a limited period of time the writings and discoveries of authors and inventors. Given that premise, it should be self-evident that creator incentivization is not applicable to machines, which do not need nor comprehend economic incentives to create.
Free riding is also what the education sector has been doing in Canada under the specious umbrella of “education fair dealing”, introduced through copyright amendments in 2012 that broadened the scope of fair dealing. Since then, the “education industry” at the public, secondary and post-secondary level has been siphoning off economic value from writers and other creators to the tune to date of over CAD$200 million. Their legalized renunciation of collective reprographic licensing is ostensibly to benefit students but is in fact a transfer of wealth from creators to the bottom line of educational institutions. If a key objective of copyright is to incentivize creation of new content, such as materials used by educational institutions to teach students, then the current interpretation of education fair dealing in Canada upends a key rationale for granting copyright protection in the first place. (As a footnote, I should add that not all arguments in favour of copyright are based solely on economic incentives. There is also the question of natural justice and equity, providing authors with a degree of control over works they have created).
Since court challenges have unfortunately proven ineffective, the remedy for Canada’s education fair dealing fiasco is for the Government of Canada to amend the Copyright Act so that rightsholders are properly compensated when their works are used in Canada. Both the copyright collective in English Canada, Access Copyright and its Québec counterpart, Copibec, recently called for legal clarification of the nature and extent of educational fair dealing.
Thorough documentation of the contribution that copyright makes to economic and social welfare helps substantiate the case for adequate legal frameworks, including combatting piracy and ending copyright free riding. Sound economic data are essential to sound policy making. The initiative of the US Copyright Office to appoint a Chief Economist helps to meet these goals and is to be commended. Should the Canadian Intellectual Property Office ever create such a position, its first task should be to evaluate the full economic and social costs of the current short-sighted interpretation of fair dealing in Canada’s education sector in terms of its negative long-term impact on creativity and cultural sovereignty in the country.
The Scottish writer Thomas Carlyle may have described economics as the “dismal science”, an oft-quoted remark, but rather than being dismal it is in fact just the opposite; it sheds light on the importance of copyright to maintaining a well-functioning, equitable and culturally rich modern society.
If you know all about the Public Lending Right (PLR) program in Canada, you probably don’t need this reminder. However, if you don’t and are a Canadian (citizen or resident) writer, editor, translator, photographer, illustrator, or narrator who has published a printed, audio or e-book with an ISBN number in the last five years, you may qualify for a PLR payment—but only if you register by May 1. The PLR program, run by the PLR Commission in association with the Canada Council, has been in operation in Canada since 1986. It distributes annually approximately $15 million to qualified authors registered with the program, based on a sampling of major libraries across the country to determine whether registered works are present in library holdings. Payments are based on library holdings, not the number of times a work is loaned out, despite the name “lending right”. This year, payments were made to 18,247 authors of the 20,091 who have registered. The maximum payout to an author was $4,500. Minimum payment is $50. The average payment was $806 and the median (half above; half below) was $399.91. Once a book is registered and confirmed to be in the library inventory, payments can continue for up to 25 years.
Not all genres are eligible. While the program covers fiction, poetry, drama, children’s literature, non-fiction and scholarly works, “practical” books such as cookbooks, self-help, “how-to” guides, travel guides, manuals, reference works, educational books like textbooks or books resulting from a conference, seminar or symposium, and periodicals, are not eligible. Full eligibility criteria for registration can be found here. Registration is a bit old-school and not that simple. A form needs to be downloaded and completed by hand. Various codes have to be added to the form (there is a guide). Photocopies have to be made of the work’s title page, copyright page, and table of contents. For audiobooks similar information must be provided, such as a photocopy of the audiobook box cover. Next, this all has to be packaged up and mailed through Canada Post. Registered mail is advised. Applications are then assessed, compared against an electronic database of library holdings and cheques prepared for mail out by February of next year. (A recent innovation is an option for electronic deposit). All this is accomplished by a dedicated staff of just 4 people!
About 800 authors a year apply for the program. In a sense, this is a problem because funding has not been increased for around two decades. (While new authors are added, there is some natural attrition as the estates of deceased authors do not receive payments, plus there is a drop off as older works age out). But the end result is a net increase, with the same amount of funding being spread over an ever-increasing base. Not only that, with inflation over the years the value of payments has actually declined by almost 50%. The Trudeau government made a pledge to increase the PLR back in 2021 but so far has taken no action. The Writers Union of Canada has advocated for a doubling of annual funding from $15 to $30 million (it was just $3 million when first launched in 1986). A coalition of Canadian publishing and authors organizations has just sent a public letter to the Minister for Canadian Heritage and the Finance Minister prior to the release of the 2024 budget on April 16 urging that commitments to increase funding be fulfilled.
The formula for payments to authors is somewhat complicated. It is explained on the PLR website as follows:
“Payment per title = Hit rate × # libraries where title is found × % share × time adjustment”
The hit rate varies but last year was $61.53. That is multiplied by the number of libraries where the title was found. If the author claims full title there is no percentage share adjustment but where a work has more than one author claiming a share of title (e.g. a writer as well as an illustrator), there is an adjustment related to the amount of contribution each made to the creation of the work. The time adjustment is related to when the work is published. Older works are subject to a discount. Got it? The best way to find out what you might earn is to register, assuming your work qualifies. If you get a cheque in 2025 you will have some idea of your contribution to the literary base of Canadian libraries.
Canada is now one of more than 30 countries that has a PLR. (The US does not). The first PLR program goes back to 1946 in Denmark, followed by Norway and Sweden although the idea originated in 1919 with the Nordic Authors’ Association passing a resolution calling on governments to compensate authors for library lending of their books. The World Intellectual Property Association (WIPO) defines the PLR as “the legal right that allows authors and other right holders to receive payment from government to compensate for the free loan of their books by public and other libraries.” In Europe, the PLR is actually underpinned by copyright legislation in the form of the Rental and Lending Right Directive (Directive 2006/115/EC) that provides authors with an exclusive right over the lending out of their works, or remuneration for the lending of such works. PLR in non-EU countries, such as Canada, Australia, New Zealand and Israel is not dependent on a legal right but is in fact a form of government subsidy to authors. In some countries payment is based on how often works are loaned, in others, such as Canada, it is based on library holdings.
In most countries, including Canada, libraries do not pay for the PLR, and it does not affect their budgets. Instead, funding comes from central government sources. You would think, therefore, that being part of the writer/publisher/reader ecosystem, libraries would be enthusiastic supporters of such payments to authors as it encourages them to create more works, enlarging the base of books available to users of libraries. That, however, is usually not the case. Libraries generally don’t support, or give very lukewarm support, to the PLR for fear that funding for it might come out of their hide, as in the Netherlands. (WIPO tactfully says that “In the few cases where libraries pay for PLR, such as in The Netherlands where public libraries operate as independent entities, PLR is viewed by the library community as a legitimate charge that fairly compensates authors for the use of their works free of charge by the public”). That is a very rosy interpretation of the position of most library associations. Not only is there concern that somehow funding for authors will mean less money for libraries, but there is ideological opposition from library associations too.
The International Federation of Library Associations and Institutions (IFLA), in its policy statement on PLR, states that “IFLA does not favour the principles of ‘lending right’, which can jeopardize free access to the services of publicly accessible libraries, which is the citizen’s human right…” It goes on to say that “the justification usually given for PLR – that the use of copyright works through public libraries detracts from primary sales – is unproven”, arguing that lending by libraries often assists in the marketing of copyright works. (equally unproven, I would say). The Canadian Library Association has published opinion pieces echoing IFLA’s position, although its official position is that it supports payments to Canadian writers and endorses the use of library data to implement the PLR. There are caveats, however, such as opposition to any legal entitlement to PLR payments for writers plus assertions that library lending is of financial benefit to authors even without any PLR payments.
Despite reluctant library endorsement, PLR continues to grow globally. It now exists in 34 countries, with another 27 having it under consideration. As a result, in 2019 IFLA nuanced its outright opposition. For countries where there is not yet a PLR, members are urged to continue to oppose it. In particular IFLA opposes establishment of a PLR in developing countries (I guess writers in those countries don’t deserve support). If institution of a PLR appears inevitable, IFLA’s position is that national library associations must insist it not be funded from library budgets and that the administrative burdens on libraries be minimized.
PLR International, an advocate for expanding the PLR that holds an international conference every few years (the last one was in Brussels in September of last year), has addressed the IFLA position head on. It clearly states in its Charter of Best Practices that “PLR systems should be funded directly by central and/or regional government and should NOT be funded from library budgets.” Canada’s PLR Commission has “Celebrating Libraries” as one of its three fundamental pillars, the others being “Supporting Authors” and “Enriching Readers”, no doubt in acknowledgement of the generally tepid position of library associations on the PLR. (Interestingly, in the UK, the PLR system is run by the British Library).
But whether Canadian libraries are enthusiastic or lukewarm supporters of the PLR, it exists and has been in existence in Canada for almost 40 years, albeit without any legislative foundation. Although payments are relatively trivial, they are nonetheless a welcome supplement to the income of many writers and are a mark of recognition and partnership between libraries and authors, even though it seems some librarians are reluctant to see it that way. Published authors out there who have not registered should do so, if only to demonstrate to the government the wide base of creativity in Canada and to encourage a topping up of the PLR fund. You have two weeks left. Deadline is May 1. Don’t miss out.
My daughter’s (copyrighted) art, circa 1990, age 5 (Used with permission)
It is rare that a copyright story makes the national news, in Canada or elsewhere, but this one had all the needed ingredients. A teacher exploiting students, irate parents, and a possibly negligent school board. What’s not to like?
The Canadian Press reported that ten Montreal area parents have launched a lawsuit for CAD$1.6 million against a junior high school teacher for copyright infringement, and for negligence on the part of the Board. According to the report, Mario Perron is (or was?) an art teacher at Westwood Junior High in St. Lazare, QC, west of Montreal Island. Perron had assigned his class to prepare “creepy portraits” of themselves and other students in the style of artist Jean-Michel Basquiat who, despite his Quebecois sounding name, was an American neo-impressionist artist in the 1980s who worked with Andy Warhol. Some of the works produced by the students were quite interesting, judging by the samples displayed in this Google search. (Who knows? Maybe they relied on an AI program to produce Basquiat-like works “in the style of”, as I did a couple of years ago for an earlier blog). My prompt, however, was for an artist (Monet) whose work is in the public domain.
Their teacher clearly did not give much thought to copyright when he posted artwork created by the students on his website, including portraits of classmates and self-portraits screened on to tee-shirts and coffee mugs. They were offered for sale at various prices, over $100 in some cases. There is little question that this was a flagrant violation of the student artists’ copyright. You may ask why these students would enjoy copyright in these amateur works? The answer is simple. The works met all the criteria in Canada to be eligible for copyright protection.
There is no minimum limit on the age of a creator, although a creator has to be living, sentient human being, not an AI robot or a monkey with a camera. (Yes, in theory even an infant’s artwork could be protected by copyright). All that needs to be shown is that the work is original (not a copy), that it is the expression of an idea (the idea itself cannot be copyrighted), that it demonstrates “skill and judgement” and that it is fixed in some form (i.e. a physical incarnation as on a canvas, or on paper, a recording, a photograph.) Plus, the artist must be a resident of a Berne Convention country (which Canada is). These works met all these criteria. A work does not have to be a Rembrandt to enjoy copyright protection. The artist does not have to be famous or have produced any other work. It could be argued that even dipping your hand into a can of paint and placing it in a certain way on the canvas constitutes originality, skill and judgement. These works belonged to the student artists and neither their teacher, nor anyone else, had the right to appropriate them through unauthorized reproduction and distribution, let alone for commercial purposes. The law is very clear.
In addition to copyright considerations, here are additional factors to take into account, such as the fact that the portraits were, according to the teacher’s instructions, either self-portraits or portraits of classmates. Since the instruction was to produce a “creepy portrait” à la Basquiat, it is not inconceivable that some of the subjects of the works might become the object of ridicule or harassment since their first names were attached to the portraits. This issue goes beyond copyright law, but it is important to remember that copyright law grants the creator the right to determine the means and extent of distribution of a work (for example, the author can decide not to publish or display it). These rights were violated. It is the potential damage from the unauthorized distribution of the works that could be even more harmful than the violation of economic rights. To usurp the right of the artist to decide where and how their work will be displayed is a clear violation of copyright law. I won’t comment on the personal harm aspects of the case, but they are clearly related to the copyright infringement elements.
The remedies sought are substantial, amounting to $155,000 for each of the ten families involved in the suit, based on statutory damages of $5000 per work times 31 works, the number created by each student. In addition, the plaintiffs are seeking $100,000 in punitive damages and $150,000 in costs. Canada’s Copyright Act, Section 38.1(1) provides for statutory damages (damages where the amount of actual damage does not have to be documented, nor actual injury proven) of not less than $500 and not more than $20,000 for commercial infringement, and not less than $100 and not more than $5000 for non-commercial infringement. Mr. Perron is potentially in big trouble.
As for the School Board, which is saying very little, the claim is that they were negligent in allowing this to happen. Are they any more negligent than a company whose employee carries out illicit after-hours activities, such as copyright violations of the work of others? I wouldn’t have thought so, but of course a teacher does exercise a position of trust over their students, and the Board is responsible for ensuring that the trust is exercised responsibly, so perhaps. The works were created in a classroom setting (this does not give either the school or the instructor any authorship rights over the works, by the way), yet the infringement occurred outside school hours and premises. Could or should the school administration have known? There certainly wasn’t a line in the policy book for teachers that said, “Do not make unauthorized use of student art for your own commercial gain”. Who would have thought of that? Anyway, I am not a lawyer so what I think about the Board’s culpability doesn’t really matter. The court will decide, if it gets to court.
The parents (one of whom must surely be an IP lawyer) have also asked for a written apology, the removal of all the students’ art from the internet and an accounting of funds earned. To my knowledge, they have not demanded that Perron be fired, although that may happen. Perhaps the suit has been filed to get the attention of the School Board, which was dilatory in responding to initial complaints. Perhaps there will be a non-punitive settlement, with any proceeds to date being donated to school art programs. Hopefully Mr. Perron and others will have learned an important lesson about the role of copyright in protecting the work of creators, even if they are young students. Perhaps he won’t lose his job.
I would like to think the result will be a greater awareness by educators, students and the public of the importance of copyright in society today. Let’s hope that this particular teacher was simply blind or ignorant with regard to his actions, not malign. He will now know better. It is an important lesson for all concerned, and a cautionary copyright tale if there ever was one.
