Intellectual Property

Only Humans Are Allowed: Federal Circuit Says No to “AI Inventors”

October 26, 2022
Artificial Intelligence, Intellectual Property, New Technology, Patents

Vivian Lin, MJLST Staffer

On August 5, 2022, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit affirmed the U.S. District for the Eastern Division of Virginia’s decision that artificial intelligence (AI) cannot be an “inventor” on a patent application,[1] joining many other jurisdictions in confirming that only a natural person can be an “inventor”.[2] Currently, South Africa remains the only jurisdiction that has granted Dr. Stephan Thaler’s patent naming DABUS, an AI, as the sole inventor of two patentable inventions.[3] With the release of the Federal Circuit’s opinion refusing to recognize AI as an inventor, Dr. Thaler’s fight to credit AI for inventions reaches a plateau. 

DABUS, formally known as Device for the Autonomous Bootstrapping of Unified Sentience, is an AI-based creativity machine created by Dr. Stephan Thaler, the founder of the software company Imagination Engine Inc. Dr. Thaler claimed that DABUS independently invented two patentable inventions: The Factual Container and the Neural Flame. For the past few years, Dr. Thaler has been in battle with patent offices around the world trying to receive patents for these two inventions. Until this date, every patent office, except one,[4] has refused to grant the patents on the grounds that the applications do not name a natural person as the inventor. 

The inventor of a patent being a natural person is a legal requirement in many jurisdictions. The recent Federal Circuit opinion ruled mainly based on statutory interpretation, arguing that the text is clear in requiring a natural person to be the inventor.[5] Though there are many jurisdictions that have left the term “inventor” undefined, it seems to be a general agreement that an inventor should be a natural person.[6]

Is DABUS the True Inventor?

There are many issues centered around AI inventorship. The first is whether AI can be the true inventor, and subsequently take credit for an invention, even though a human created the AI itself. Here it becomes necessary to inquire into whether there was human intervention during the discovery process, and if so, what type of intervention was involved. It might be the case that a natural human was the actual inventor of a product while AI only assisted in carrying out that idea. For example, when a developer designed the AI with a particular question in mind and carefully selected the training data, the AI is only assisting the invention while the developer is seen as the true inventor.[7] In analyzing the DABUS case, Dr. Rita Matulionyte, a senior lecturer at Macquarie Law School in Australia and an expert in intellectual property and information technology law, has argued that DABUS is not the true inventor because Dr. Thaler’s role in the inventions was unquestionable, assuming he formulated the problem, developed the algorithm, created the training date, etc.[8] 

However, it is a closer question when both AI and human effort are important for the invention. For example, AI might identify the compound for a new drug, but to conclude the discovery, a scientist still has to test the compound.[9] The U.S. patent law requires that the “inventor must contribute to the conception of the invention.”[10] Further defined, conception is “the formation in the mind of the inventor, of a definite and permanent idea of the complete and operative invention, as it is hereafter to be applied in practice.”[11] In the drug discovery scenario, it is difficult to determine who invented the new drug. Neither the AI developers nor the scientists fit the definition of “inventor”: The AI developers and trainers only built and trained the algorithm without any knowledge of the potential discovery while the scientists only confirmed the final discovery without contributing to the development of the algorithm or the discovery of the drug.[12] In this scenario, it is likely the AI did the majority of the work and made the important discovery itself, and should thus be the inventor of the new compound.[13]

The debate on who is the true inventor is important because mislabeling the inventor can cause serious consequences. Legally, improper inventorship attribution may cause a patent application to be denied, or it may lead to the later invalidation of a granted patent. Practically speaking, human inventors are able to take credit for their invention and that honor comes with recognition which may incentive future creative inventions. Thus, a misattribution may harm human inventiveness as true inventors could be discouraged by not being recognized for their contributions. 

Should AI-Generated Inventions be Patentable?

While concluding that AI is the sole inventor of an invention may be difficult as outlined in the previous section, what happens when AI is found to be the true, sole inventor? Society’s discussion on whether AI inventions should be patented focuses mostly on policy arguments. Dr. Thaler and Ryan Abbott, a law professor and the lead of Thaler’s legal team, have argued that allowing patent protection for AI-generated inventions will encourage developers to invest time in building more creative machines that will eventually lead to more inventions in the future.[14] They also argued that crediting AI for inventorship will protect the rights of human inventors.[15] For example, it cuts out the possibility of one person taking credit for another’s invention, which often happens when students participate in university research but are overlooked on patent applications.[16] Without patent applicability, the patent system’s required disclosure of inventions, it is very likely that owners of AI will keep inventions secret and privately benefit from the monopoly for however long it takes the rest of society to figure it out independently.[17] 

Some critics argue against Thaler and Abbott’s view. For one, they believe that AI at its current stage is not autonomous enough to be an inventor and human effort should be properly credited.[18] Even if AI can independently invent, its inventions should not be patentable because once it is, there will be too many patented inventions by AI in the same field owned by the same group of people who have access to these machines.[19] That will prevent smaller companies from entering into this field, having a negative effect on human inventiveness.[20]  Finally, there has been a concern that not granting patents to AI-invented creations will let AI owners keep the inventions as trade secrets, leading to a potential long-term monopoly. However, that might not be a big concern as inventions like the two created by DABUS are likely to be easily reverse engineered once they reach the market.[21]

Currently, Dr. Thaler plans to file appeals in each jurisdiction that has rejected his application and aims to seek copyright protection as an alternative in the U.S. It is questionable that Dr. Thaler will succeed on those appeals, but if he ever does, it will likely result in major changes to patent systems around the world. Even if most jurisdictions today forbid AI from being classified as an inventor, with the advancement of technology the need to address this issue will become more and more pressing as time goes on. 

Notes

[1] Thaler v. Vidal, 43 F.4th 1207 (Fed. Cir. 2022).

[2] Ryan Abbott, July 2022 AIP Update Around the World, The Artificial Inventor Project (July 10, 2022), https://artificialinventor.com/867-2/.

[3] Id.

[4] South Africa’s patent law does not have a requirement on inventors being a natural person. Jordana Goodman, Homography of Inventorship: DABUS And Valuing Inventors, 20 Duke L. & Tech. Rev. 1, 17 (2022).

[5] Thaler, 43 F.4th at 1209, 1213.

[6] Goodman, supra note 4, at 10.

[7] Ryan Abbott, The Artificial Inventor Project, WIPO Magazine (Dec. 2019), https://www.wipo.int/wipo_magazine/en/2019/06/article_0002.html.

[8] Rita Matulionyte, AI as an Inventor: Has the Federal Court of Australia Erred in DABUS? 12 (2021), https://papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=3974219.

[9] Susan Krumplitsch et al. Can An AI System Be Named the Inventor? In Wake Of EDVA Decision, Questions Remain, DLA Piper (Sept. 13, 2019), https://www.dlapiper.com/en/us/insights/publications/2021/09/can-an-ai-system-be-named-the-inventor/#11

[10] 2109 Inventorship, USPTO, https://www.uspto.gov/web/offices/pac/mpep/s2109.html (last visited Oct. 8, 2022).

[11] Hybritech, Inc. v. Monoclonal Antibodies, Inc., 802 F.2d 1367, 1376 (Fed. Cir. 1986).

[12] Krumplitsch et al., supra note 9.

[13] Yosuke Watanabe, I, Inventor: Patent Inventorship for Artificial Intelligence Systems, 57 Idaho L. Rev. 473, 290.

[14] Abbott, supra note 2.

[15] Id.

[16] Goodman, supra note 4, at 21.

[17] Abbott, supra note 2.

[18] Matulionyte, supra note 8, at 10–14.

[19] Id. at 19.

[20] Id.

[21] Id. at 18.



After Hepp: Section 230 and State Intellectual Property Law

October 13, 2022
Administrative Law, Intellectual Property, Internet, Social Media

Kelso Horne IV, MJLST Staffer

Although hardly a competitive arena, Section 230(c) of the Communications Decency Act (the “CDA”) is almost certainly the best known of all telecommunications laws in the United States. Shielding Internet Service Providers (“ISPs”) and websites from liability for the content published by their users, § 230(c)’s policy goals are laid out succinctly, if a bit grandly, in § 230(a) and § 230(b).[1] These two sections speak about the internet as a force for economic and social good, characterizing it as a “vibrant and competitive free market” and “a forum for a true diversity of political discourse, unique opportunities for cultural development, and myriad avenues for intellectual activity.”[2] But where §§ 230(a),(b) both speak broadly of a utopian vision for the internet, and (c) grants websites substantial privileges, § 230(e) gets down to brass tacks.[3]

CDA: Goals and Text

The CDA lays out certain limitations on the shield protections provided by § 230(c).[4] Among these is § 230(e)(2) which states in full, “Nothing in this section shall be construed to limit or expand any law pertaining to intellectual property.”[5] This particular section, despite its seeming clarity, has been the subject of litigation for over a decade, and in 2021 a clear circuit split was opened between the 9th and 3rd Circuit Courts over how this short sentence applies to state intellectual property laws. The 9th Circuit Court follows the principle that the policy portions of § 230 as stated in §§ 230(a),(b) should be controlling, and that, as a consequence, state intellectual property claims should be barred. The 3rd Circuit Court follows the principle that the plain text of § 230(e)(2) unambiguously allows for state intellectual property claims.

Who Got There First? Lycos and Perfect 10

In Universal Commc’n Sys., Inc. v. Lycos, Inc., the 1st Circuit Court faced this question obliquely; the court assumed that they were not immunized from state intellectual property law by § 230 and the claims were dismissed, but on different grounds.[6] Consequently, when the 9th Circuit released their opinion in Perfect 10, Inc. v. CCBILL LLC only one month later, they felt free to craft their own rule on the issue.[7] Consisting of a few short paragraphs, the court’s decision on state intellectual property rights is nicely summarized in a short sentence. They stated that “As a practical matter, inclusion of rights protected by state law within the ‘intellectual property’ exemption would fatally undermine the broad grant of immunity provided by the CDA.”[8] The court’s analysis in Perfect 10 was almost entirely based on what allowing state intellectual property claims would do to the policy goals stated in § 230(a) and § 230(b), and did not attempt, or rely on, a particularly thorough reading of § 230(e)(2). Here the court looks at both the policy stated in § 230(a) and § 230(b) and the text of § 230(e)(2) and attempts to rectify them. The court clearly sees the possibility of issues arising from allowing plaintiffs to bring cases through fifty different state systems against websites and ISPs for the postings of their users. This insight may be little more than hindsight, however, given the date of the CDA’s drafting.

Hepp Solidifies a Split

Perfect 10 would remain the authoritative appellate level case on the issue of the CDA and state intellectual property law until 2021, when the 3rd Circuit stepped into the ring.[9] In Hepp v. Facebook, Pennsylvania newsreader Karen Hepp sued Facebook for hosting advertisements promoting a dating website and other services which had used her likeness without her permission.[10] In a much longer analysis, the 3rd Circuit held that the 9th Circuit’s interpretation argued for by Facebook “stray[ed] too far from the natural reading of § 230(e)(2)”.[11] Instead, the 3rd Circuit argued for a closer reading of the text of § 230(e)(2) which they said aligned closely with a more balanced selection of policy goals, including allowance for state intellectual property law.[12] The court also mentions structural arguments relied on by Facebook, mostly examining how narrow the other exceptions in 230(e) are, which the majority states “cuts both ways” since Congress easily cabined meanings when they wanted to.[13]

The dissent in Hepp agreed with the 9th Circuit that the policy goals stated in §§230(a),(b) should be considered controlling.[14] It also noted two cases in other circuits where courts had shown hesitancy towards allowing state intellectual property claims under the CDA to go forward, although both claims had been dismissed on other grounds.[15] Perhaps unsurprisingly, the dissent sees the structural arguments as compelling, and in Facebook’s favor.[16] With the circuits now definitively split on the issue, the text of §§ 230(a),(b) would certainly seem to demand the Supreme Court, or Congress, step in and provide a clear standard.

What Next? Analyzing the CDA

Despite being a pair of decisions ostensibly focused on parsing out what exactly Congress was intending when they drafted § 230, both Perfect 10 and Hepp left out any citation to legislative history when discussing the § 230(e)(2) issue. However, this is not as odd as it seems at first glance. The Communications Decency Act is large, over a hundred pages in length, and § 230 makes up about a page and a half.[17] Most of the content of the legislative reports published after the CDA was passed instead focused on its landmark provisions which attempted, mostly unsuccessfully, to regulate obscene materials on the internet.[18] Section 230 gets a passing mention, less than a page, some of which is taken up with assurances that it would not interfere with civil liability for those engaged in “cancelbotting,” a controversial anti-spam method of the Usenet era.[19] It is perhaps unfair to say that § 230 was an afterthought, but it is likely that lawmakers did not understand its importance at the time of passage. This may be an argument for eschewing the 9th Circuit’s analysis which seemingly imparts the CDA’s drafters with an overly high degree of foresight into § 230’s use by internet companies over a decade later.

Indeed, although one may wish that Congress had drafted it differently, the text of § 230(e)(2) is clear, and the inclusion of “any” as a modifier to “law” makes it difficult to argue that state intellectual property claims are not exempted by the general grant of immunity in § 230.[20] Congressional inaction should not give way to courts stepping in to determine what they believe would be a better Act. Indeed, the 3rd Circuit majority in Hepp may be correct in stating that Congress did in fact want state intellectual property claims to stand. Either way, we are faced with no easy judicial answer; to follow the clear text of the section would be to undermine what many in the e-commerce industry clearly see as an important protection and to follow the purported vision of the Act stated in §§230(a),(b) would be to remove a protection to intellectual property which victims of infringement may use to defend themselves. The circuit split has made it clear that this is a question on which reasonable jurists can disagree. Congress, as an elected body, is in the best position to balance these equities, and they should use their law making powers to definitively clarify the issue.

Notes

[1] 47 U.S.C. § 230.

[2] Id.

[3] 47 U.S.C. § 230(e).

[4] Id.

[5] 47 U.S.C. § 230(e)(2).

[6] Universal v. Lycos, 478 F.3d 413 (1st Cir. 2007)(“UCS’s remaining claim against Lycos was brought under Florida trademark law, alleging dilution of the “UCSY” trade name under Fla. Stat. § 495.151. Claims based on intellectual property laws are not subject to Section 230 immunity.”).

[7] 488 F.3d 1102 (9th Cir. 2007).

[8] Id. at 1119 n.5.

[9] Kyle Jahner, Facebook Ruling Splits Courts Over Liability Shield Limits for IP, Bloomberg Law, (Sep. 28, 2021, 11:32 AM).

[10] 14 F.4th 204, 206-7 (3d Cir. 2021).

[11] Id. at 210.

[12] Id. at 211.

[13] Hepp v. Facebook, 14 F.4th 204 (3d Cir. 2021)(“[T]he structural evidence it cites cuts both ways. Facebook is correct that the explicit references to state law in subsection (e) are coextensive with federal laws. But those references also suggest that when Congress wanted to cabin the interpretation about state law, it knew how to do so—and did so explicitly.”).

[14] 14 F.4th at 216-26 (Cowen, J., dissenting).

[15] Almeida v. Amazon.com, Inc., 456 F.3d 1316 (11th Cir. 2006); Doe v. Backpage.com, LLC, 817 F.3d 12 (1st Cir. 2016).

[16] 14 F.4th at 220 (Cowen, J., dissenting) (“[T]he codified findings and policies clearly tilt the balance in Facebook’s favor.”).

[17] Communications Decency Act of 1996, Pub. L. 104-104, § 509, 110 Stat. 56, 137-39.

[18] H.R. REP. NO. 104-458 at 194 (1996) (Conf. Rep.); S. Rep. No. 104-230 at 194 (1996) (Conf. Rep.).

[19] Benjamin Volpe, From Innovation to Abuse: Does the Internet Still Need Section 230 Immunity?, 68 Cath. U. L. Rev. 597, 602 n.27 (2019); see Denise Pappalardo & Todd Wallack, Antispammers Take Matters Into Their Own Hands, Network World, Aug. 11, 1997, at 8 (“cancelbots are programs that automatically delete Usenet postings by forging cancel messages in the name of the authors. Normally, they are used to delete postings by known spammers. . . .”).

[20] 47 U.S.C. § 230(e)(2).

Extending Trademark Protections to the Metaverse

May 10, 2022
Data, Internet, New Technology, Trademark Law

Alex O’Connor, MJLST Staffer

After a 2020 bankruptcy and steadily decreasing revenue that the company attributes to the Coronavirus pandemic, Chuck E. Cheese is making the transition to a pandemic-proof virtual world. Restaurant and arcade center Chuck E. Cheese is hoping to revitalize its business model by entering the metaverse. In February, Chuck E. Cheese filed two intent to use trademark filings with the USPTO. The trademarks were filed under the names “CHUCK E. VERSE” and “CHUCK E. CHEESE METAVERSE”. 

Under Section 1 of the Lanham Act, the two most common types of applications for registration of a mark on the Principal Register are (1) a use based application for which the applicant must have used the mark in commerce and (2) an “intent to use” (ITU) based application for which the applicant must possess a bona fide intent to use the mark in trade in the near future. Chuck E. Cheese has filed an ITU application for its two marks.

The metaverse is a still-developing virtual and immersive world that will be inhabited by digital representations of people, places, and things. Its appeal lies in the possibility of living a parallel, virtual life. The pandemic has provoked a wave of investment into virtual technologies, and brands are hurrying to extend protection to virtual renditions of their marks by registering specifically for the metaverse. A series of lawsuits related to alleged infringing use of registered marks via still developing technology has spooked mark holders into taking preemptive action. In the face of this uncertainty, the USPTO could provide mark holders with a measure of predictability by extending analogue protections of marks used in commerce to substantially similar virtual renditions. 

Most notably, Hermes International S.A. sued the artist Mason Rothschild for both infringement and dilution for the use of the term “METABIRKINS” in his collection of Non-Fungible Tokens (NFTs). Hermes alleges that the NFTs are confusing customers about the source of the digital artwork and diluting the distinctive quality of Hermes’ popular line of handbags. The argument continues that the term “META” is merely a generic term that simply means “BIRKINS in the metaverse,” and Rothschild’s use of the mark constitutes trading on Hermes’ reputation as a brand.  

Many companies and individuals are rushing to the USPTO to register trademarks for their brands to use in virtual reality. Household names such as McDonalds (“MCCAFE” for a virtual restaurant featuring actual and virtual goods), Panera Bread (“PANERAVERSE” for virtual food and beverage items), and others have recently filed applications for registration with the USPTO for virtual marks. The rush of filings signals a recognition among companies that the digital marketplace presents countless opportunities for them to expand their brand awareness, or, if they’re not careful, for trademark copycats to trade on their hard-earned good will among consumers.

Luckily for Chuck E. Cheese and other companies that seek to extend their brands into the metaverse, trademark protection in the metaverse is governed by the same set of rules governing regular analogue trademark protection. That is, the mark the company is seeking to protect must be distinctive, it must be used in commerce, and it must not be covered by a statutory bar to protection. For example, if a mark’s exclusive use by one firm would leave other firms at a significant non-reputation related disadvantage, the mark is said to be functional, and it can’t be protected. The metaverse does not present any additional obstacles to trademark protection, and so as long as Chuck E. Cheese eventually uses its two marks,it will enjoy their exclusive use among consumers in the metaverse. 

However, the relationship between new virtual marks and analogue marks is a subject of some uncertainty. Most notably, should a mark find broad success and achieve fame in the metaverse, would that virtual fame confer fame in the real world? What will trademark expansion into the metaverse mean for licensing agreements? Clarification from the USPTO could help put mark holders at ease as they venture into the virtual market. 

Additionally, trademarks in the metaverse present another venue in which trademark trolls can attempt to register an already well known mark with no actual intent to use it-—although the requirement under U.S. law that mark holders either use or possess a bona fide intent to use the mark can help mitigate this problem. Finally, observers contend that the expansion of commerce into the virtual marketplace will present opportunities for copycats to exploit marks. Already, third parties are seeking to register marks for virtual renditions of existing brands. In response, trademark lawyers are encouraging their clients to register their virtual marks as quickly as possible to head off any potential copycat users. The USPTO could ensure brands’ security by providing more robust protections to virtual trademarks based on a substantially similar, already registered analogue trademark.

I Think, Therefore I Am: The Battle for Intellectual Property Rights With Artificial Intelligence

March 17, 2022
Artificial Intelligence, Intellectual Property, New Technology, Patents

Sara Pistilli, MJLST Staffer

Artificial intelligence (AI) is a computer or robot that is able to perform tasks that are usually done by humans because they require human judgement and intellect. Some AI can be self-learning, allowing them to learn and progress beyond their initial programming. This creates an issue of inventorship when AI creates patentable subject matter without any contribution from the original inventor of the AI system. This technological advancement has posed the larger question of whether AI qualifies as an “individual” under the United States Patent Act and whether people who create AI machines are able to claim the patent rights when the AI has created the patentable subject matter.

Artificial Intelligence “Inventors”

Patent law is continuously changing as technology expands and advances. While the law has advanced to accommodate innovative technology in the past, the introduction of AI has not been fully articulated. The United States Patent and Trademark Office (USPTO) opened up for comment on patenting AI inventions in 2019, however, it does not appear they asked for any further purpose other than to gather information from the public. The USPTO again asked for comment about patent eligibility jurisprudence as it related to specific technological areas, including AI in 2021. They gathered this information as a “study” and did not pursue any official action. The first official push to recognize AI as an inventor was by Dr. Stephen Thaler. Thaler built an AI machine called “DABUS,” and sought patent rights for the machine’s inventions. Thaler did not argue for DABUS to be the patent right holder, but rather the machine to be named the inventor with Thaler as the patent owner. Thaler’s insistence to name DABUS as the inventor complies with USPTO’s rulesregarding an inventor’s oath or declaration that accompanies a patent application.

United States’ Rulings

Thaler applied for patent rights over a food container and devices and methods for attracting enhanced attention. Both of these products were invented by his AI machine, DABUS. After applying for a U.S. patent, the USPTO rejected his application stating that U.S. law does not allow for artificial intelligence to be listed as an inventor on a patent application or patent. USPTO cited the Patent Act, stating an inventor must be a person, not a machine. USPTO stated that to allow “inventor” to include machines was too broad. Thaler requested reconsideration from the USPTO which was later denied. In 2021, Thaler appealed his rejection in the Eastern District of Virginia. Thaler failed to obtain patent rights with Judge Brinkema ruling only a human can be an inventor. Judge Brinkema relied heavily on statutory interpretation of the word “individual” which was performed by the Supreme Court in a 2012 case on the Torture Victim Protection Act. The Supreme Court had concluded that an “individual” referred to a “natural person.” Judge Brinkema further stated, that it will be up to Congress’ discretion on how they would like to alter patent law to accommodate for AI in the future. Thaler now has a pending appeal to the Court of Appeals.

International Rulings

While countries’ patent systems are independent of one another, they can be influenced based on technological and regulatory advancement happening in another country. Thaler has sought patent rights for DABUS’ two inventions discussed above in several countries including, but not limited to, the United Kingdom, Australia, and South Africa. Thaler obtained patent rights in South Africa, constituting a first in intellectual property history. Of note, however, is that South Africa’s patent system does not have a substantive patent examination system like other countries, nor do their patent laws define “inventor.” Thaler received a more persuasive ruling in Australia that may be able to effectuate change in other countries.  In 2021, Thaler’s patent application was denied in Australia. The Australian Patent Office (APO) stated that the language of the Patents Act was inconsistent with AI being treated as an inventor. Thaler appealed this decision to the Federal Court of Australia. Justice Beach ordered that this case must be remitted based on his ruling that AI can be a recognized inventor under the Australian Patents Act. Judge Beach further stated that AI cannot, however, be an applicant for a patent or an owner of a patent. It is with these reasons that Judge Beach requested reconsideration and remitted this case back to the Deputy Commissioner of the APO. The APO is now appealing this decision. Similar to the APO, the United Kingdom Intellectual Property Office (UKIPO) also pushed back against Thaler’s application for patent rights. In 2019, the UKIPO rejected Thaler’s application stating that the listing of DABUS as an inventor did not meet the requirements of the United Kingdom’s Patent Act. They stated a person must be identified as the inventor. Thaler appealed this rejection and was again denied by the UKIPO, who stated that a machine as an inventor does not allow for the innovation desired by patent rights. Thaler appealed again, to the England and Wales Patents Court, and was again denied patent rights. The judge stated that Thaler was using the Patent Act text out of context for his argument, ruling that the Patent Act cannot be construed to allow non-human inventors. In 2021, Thaler appealed this decision in the England and Wales Court of Appeals. He was again denied patent rights with all three judges agreeing that a patent is a right that can only be granted to a person and, that an inventor must be a person.

Future Prospects

Thaler currently has pending applications in several countries including Brazil, Canada, China, and Japan. The outcome of the appeal against the Federal Court of Australia’s decision on whether AI can be an inventor may prove crucial in helping to amend U.S. patent laws. Similarly, if more countries, in addition to South Africa, outright grant Thaler his patent rights, the U.S. may be forced to re-think their policies on AI-invented patentable subject matter.

Social Media Influencers Ask What “Intellectual Property” Means

February 18, 2022
Copyrights, Data, Intellectual Property, Internet, Social Media, Trademark Law

Henry Killen, MJLST Staffer

Today, just about anyone can name their favorite social media influencer. The most popular influencers are athletes, musicians, politicians, entrepreneurs, or models. Ultra-famous influencers, such as Kylie Jenner, can charge over 1 million dollars for a single post with a company’s product. So what are the risks of being an influencer? Tik Tok star Charli D’Amelio has been on both sides of intellectual property disputes. A photo of Charli was included in media mogul Sheeraz Hasan’s video promoting his ability to “make anyone famous.” The video featured many other celebrities such as Logan Paul and Zendaya. Charli’s legal team sent a cease-and-desist letter to Sheeraz demanding that her portion of the promotional video is scrubbed. Her lawyers assert that her presence in the promo “is not approved and will not be approved.” Charli has also been on the other side of celebrity intellectual property issues. The star published her first book In December and has come under fire from photographer Jake Doolittle for allegedly using photos he took without his permission. Though no lawsuit has been filed, Jake posted a series of Instagram posts blaming Charli’s team for not compensating him for his work.

Charli’s controversies highlight a bigger question society is facing, is content shared on social media platforms considered intellectual property? A good place to begin is figuring out what exactly intellectual property is. Intellectual property “refers to creations of the mind, such as inventions; literary and artistic works; designs; and symbols, names, and images used in commerce.” Social media platforms make it possible to access endless displays of content – from images to ideas – creating a cultural norm of sharing many aspects of life. Legal teams at the major social media platforms already have policies in place that make it against the rules to take images from a social media feed and use them as one’s own. For example, Bloggers may not be aware what they write may already by trademarked or copyrighted or that the images they get off the internet for their posts may not be freely reposted. Influencers get reposted on sites like Instagram all the time, and not just by loyal fans. These reposts may seem harmless to many influencers, but it is actually against Instagram’s policy to repost a photo without the creator’s consent. This may seem like not a big deal because what influencer doesn’t want more attention? However, sometimes influencers’ work gets taken and then becomes a sensation. A group of BIPOC TikTok users are fighting to copyright a dance they created that eventually became one of biggest dances in TikTok history. A key fact in their case is that the dance only became wildly popular after the most famous TiKTok users began doing it.

There are few examples of social media copyright issues being litigated, but in August 2021, a Manhattan Federal judge ruled that the practice of embedding social media posts on third-party websites, without permission from the content owner, could violate the owner’s copyright. In reaching this decision, the judge rejected the “server test” from the 9th Circuit, which holds that embedding content from a third party’s social media account only violates the contents owner’s copyright if a copy is stored on the defendant’s serves. .  General copyright laws from Congress lay out four considerations when deciding if a work should be granted copyright protection: originality, fixation, idea versus expression, and functionality. These considerations notably leave a gray area in determining if dances or expressions on social media sites can be copyrighted. Congress should enact a more comprehensive law to better address intellectual property as it relates to social media.

The Mysterious Disappearance of Deference: What Is the Supreme Court’s Current Relationship to Federal Agencies?

February 7, 2022
Administrative Law, Biotechnology, Copyrights, Ethics

Carly Michaud, MJLST Staffer

The Supreme Court has had no shortage of administrative law cases in the (possibly) final sessions of one of the Court’s administrative law scholars, Justice Stephen Breyer. Yet, Breyer has found himself and his ideological compatriots in the opposition on the topic in which he situates his expertise. In the recent case regarding OSHA’s ability to require COVID-19 vaccines, Breyer’s dissent repeated discusses the proper deference an agency’s determination should be given by the Supreme Court.

Notably absent from the case is any mention of the previous key to the relationship between the courts and federal agencies: Chevron deference. In fact, Chevron U.S.A., Inc. v. National Resources Defense Council, was, (as of a 2014 analysis in the Yale Journal on Regulation) the “Most Cited Supreme Court Administrative Law decision”. While previously considered a niche area, administrative law is now so ubiquitous in practice that as of July 2021, 55 law schools require students take a course in administrative law or one of its mainstays: legislation or statutory interpretation.

In spite of this, Chevron appears nowhere in the discussion of OSHA’s vaccine mandate, nor in the court’s earlier revocation of the CDC’s eviction moratorium. This absence suggests that perhaps this Court has become a body of health experts, relying on their own understanding of COVID-19 to determine whether these agency-created regulations are effective in their mission. Both cases center on whether an agency action to prevent the spread of COVID-19 is within the purview of their empowering statute, and, despite the broad statutory authorities of these agencies to protect the health of Americans, both actions were deemed beyond that authority.

But back to Chevron, has it been abandoned as a standard? Not yet, although there was some discussion of this proposition during the oral argument of American Hospital Association v. Becerra last November. The Court has not released an opinion yet on this case, however the Court of Appeals had previously upheld HHS’s ability to set reembursement rates, per its statutory authority.

In a final thrust of irony, the death knell for Chevron deference may come from a case challenging the very statute and the very agency whose decision-making was at issue in Chevron: the EPA and the Clean Air Act. This is particularly ironic as the EPA administrator whose decision-making was being challenged in Chevron was Anne Gorsuch, the mother of Supreme Court justice and noted antagonist of agency authority: Neil Gorsuch. Yes, in a tale mirroring Hamlet, Neil Gorsuch seems determined to destroy the administrative state that had entangled his mother in various administrative scandals. The latest edition of this showdown between the Gorsuchs and EPA is scheduled for Monday February 28, which will see the Supreme Court hearing arguments in West Virginia v. EPA and its consolidated cases.

This behavior by the Court belies a grave concern both about the continued disempowerment of federal agencies—which have been empowered directly by Congress—at the hands of the unelected judiciary. Further, the most cynical of us may see this as a direct assault on the authority of agencies that some justices may politically disagree with, further disregarding the knowledge of learned experts to push their own political agendas.

The Uniform Domain Name Dispute Resolution Policy (“UDRP”): Not a Trademark Court but a Narrow Administrative Procedure Against Abusive Registrations

December 22, 2021
Internet, Trademark Law

Thao Nguyen, MJLST Staffer

Anyone can register a domain name through one of the thousands of registrars on a first-come, first-serve basis at a low cost. The ease of entry has created so-called “cybersquatters,” who register for domain names that reflect trademarks before the true trademark owners are able to do so. Cybersquatters often aim to profit from cybersquatting activities, either by selling the domain names back to the trademark holders for a higher price, by generating confusion in order to take advantage of the trademark’s goodwill, or by diluting the trademark and disrupting the business of a competitor. A single cybersquatter can cybersquat on several thousand domain names that incorporate well-known trademarks.

Paragraph 4(a) of the UDRP provides that the complainant must successfully establish all three of the following of elements: (i) that the disputed domain name is identical or confusingly similar to a trademark or service mark in which the complainant has rights; (ii) that the registrant has no rights or legitimate interests in respect of the domain name; and (iii) that the registrant registered and is using the domain name in bad faith. Remedies for a successful complainant include cancellation or transfer to the complainant of the disputed domain name.

Although prized for being focused, expedient, and inexpensive, the UDRP is not without criticism, the bulk of which focuses on the issue of fairness. The frequent charge is that the UDRP is inherently biased in favor of trademark owners and against domain name holders, not all of whom are “cybersquatters.” This bias is indicated by statistics: 75% to 90% of URDP decisions each year are decided against the domain name owner.

Nonetheless, the asymmetry of outcomes, rather than being a sign of an unfair arbitration process, may simply reflect the reality that most UDRP complaints are brought when there is a clear case of abuse, and most respondents in the proceeding are true cybersquatters who knowingly and willfully violated the UDRP. Therefore, what may appear to be the UDRP’s shortcomings are in facts signs that the UDRP is fulfilling its primary purpose. Furthermore, to appreciate the UDRP proceeding and understand the asymmetry that might normally raise red flags in an adjudication, one must understand that the UDRP is not meant to resolve trademark dispute. A representative case where this purpose is addressed is Cameron & Company, Inc. v. Patrick Dudley, FA1811001818217 (FORUM Dec. 26, 2018), where the Panel wrote, “cases involving disputes regarding trademark rights and usage, trademark infringement, unfair competition, deceptive trade practices and related U.S. law issues are beyond the scope of the Panel’s limited jurisdiction under the Policy.” In other words, the UDRP’s scope is limited to detecting and reversing the damages of cybersquatting, and the administrative dispute-resolution procedure is streamlined for this purpose.[1]

That the UDRP is not a trademark court is evident in the UDRP’s refusal to handle cases where multiple legitimate complainants assert right to a single domain name registered by a cybersquatter. UDRP Rule 3(a) states: “Any person or entity may initiate an administrative proceeding by submitting a complaint.” The Forum’s Supplemental Rule 1(e) defines “The Party Initiating a Complaint Concerning a Domain Name Registration” as a “single person or entity claiming to have rights in the domain name, or multiple persons or entities who have a sufficient nexus who can each claim to have rights to all domain names listed in the Complaint.” UDRP cases with two or more complainants in a proceeding are possible only when the complainants are affiliated with each other as to share a single license to a trademark,[2] for example, when the complainant is assigned rights to a trademark registered by another entity,[3] or when the complainant has a subsidiary relationship with the trademark registrant.[4]

Since the UDRP does not resolve a good faith trademark dispute but intervenes only when there is clear abuse, the respondent’s bad faith is central: a domain name may be confusingly similar or even identical to a trademark, and yet a complainant cannot prevail if the respondent has rights and legitimate interests in the domain name and/or did not register and use the domain name in bad faith.[5] For this reason, the UDRP sets a high standard for the complainant to establish respondent’s bad faith. For example, UDRP provides a defense if the domain name registrant has made demonstrable preparations to use the domain name in a bona fide offering of goods or services. On the other hand, the Anticybersquatting Consumer Protection Act (“ACPA”) only provides a defense if there is prior good faith use of the domain name, not simply preparation to use. Another distinction between the UDRP and the ACPA is that the UDRP requires that complainant prove bad faith in both registration and use of the disputed domain to prevail, whereas the ACPA only requires complainant to prove bad faith in either registration or use.

Such a high standard for bad faith indicates that the UDRP is not equipped resolve issues where both parties dispute their respective rights in the trademark. In fact, when abuse is non-existent or not obvious, the UDRP Panel would refuse to transfer the disputed domain name from the respondent to the complainant.[6] Instead, the parties would need to resolve these claims in regular courts under either the ACPA or the Latham act. Limiting itself to addressing cybersquatting allows the UDRP to become extremely efficient in dealing with cybersquatting practices, a widespread and highly damaging abuse of the Internet age. This efficiency and ease of the UDRP process is appreciated by trademark-owning businesses and individuals, who prefer that disputes are handled promptly and economically. From the time of the UDRP’s creation until now, ICANN has not shown intention for reforming the Policy despite existing criticisms,[7] and for good reasons.

 

[Notes]

[1] Gerald M. Levine, Domain Name Arbitration: Trademarks, Domain Names, and Cybersquatting at 102 (2019).

[2] Tasty Baking, Co. & Tastykake Invs., Inc. v. Quality Hosting, FA 208854 (FORUM Dec. 28, 2003) (treating the two complainants as a single entity where both parties held rights in trademarks contained within the disputed domain names.)

[3] Golden Door Properties, LLC v. Golden Beauty / goldendoorsalon, FA 1668748 (FORUM May 7, 2016) (finding rights in the GOLDEN DOOR mark where Complainant provided evidence of assignment of the mark, naming Complainant as assignee); Remithome Corp v. Pupalla, FA 1124302 (FORUM Feb. 21, 2008) (finding the complainant held the trademark rights to the federally registered mark REMITHOME, by virtue of an assignment); Stevenson v. Crossley, FA 1028240 (FORUM Aug. 22, 2007) (“Per the annexed U.S.P.T.O. certificates of registration, assignments and license agreement executed on May 30, 1997, Complainants have shown that they have rights in the MOLD-IN GRAPHIC/MOLD-IN GRAPHICS trademarks, whether as trademark holder, or as a licensee. The Panel concludes that Complainants have established rights to the MOLD-IN GRAPHIC SYSTEMS mark pursuant to Policy ¶ 4(a)(i).”)

[4] Provide Commerce, Inc v Amador Holdings Corp / Alex Arrocha, FA 1529347 (FORUM Jan. 3, 2014) (finding that the complainant shared rights in a mark through its subsidiary relationship with the trademark holder); Toyota Motor Sales, U.S.A., Inc. v. Indian Springs Motor, FA 157289 (FORUM June 23, 2003) (“Complainant has established that it has rights in the TOYOTA and LEXUS marks through TMC’s registration with the USPTO and Complainant’s subsidiary relationship with TMC.”)

[5] Levine, supra note 1, at 99; see e.g., Dr. Alan Y. Chow, d/b/a Optobionics v. janez bobnik, FA2110001967817 (FORUM Nov. 23, 2021) (refusing to transfer the <optobionics.com> domain name despite its being identical to Complainant’s OPTOBIONICS mark and formerly owned by Complainant, since “[t]he Panel finds no evidence in the Complainant’s submissions . . . [that] the Respondent a) does not have a legitimate interest in the domain name and b) registered and used the domain name in bad faith.”).

[6] Swisher International, Inc. v. Hempire State Smoke Shop, FA2106001952939 (FORUM July 27, 2021).

[7] Id. at 359.

Inventions Ex Machina, Patents Dantur Hominibus

November 22, 2021
Intellectual Property, Patents

Chase Webber, MJLST Staffer

In the last year, a United States Patent and Trademark Office (USPTO) and a US federal district court opinion answered many questions on the issue of who (or what) should get the patent when AI is responsible for an invention?   The take-away from these new sources is that AI cannot be named as the “inventor” for a patent, but the human developers of the AI will qualify as joint inventors.  Future courts (including the appeal of Thaler v. Hirshfeld, the recent AI “inventor” case) may consider whether an invention created by an AI may be practically unpatentable because no “natural person” could qualify as the inventor.  However, according to the USPTO report, humans’ significant contributions to the AI in all existing instances of AI invention qualify them as the “joint inventors” to obtain a patent.  There is no need to change the patent laws today for AI.  It is essential to consider, however, which humans will qualify as inventors.

Stephen Thaler applied for a patent on behalf of his AI, DABUS, for two inventions generated by DABUS.  The inventions are inconceivable by human minds; for example, a beverage container designed using fractal geometry.  Thaler named DABUS the “sole inventor” when filing for a patent.  On DABUS’s behalf, Thaler assigned all DABUS’s patent rights and benefits to himself.  The USPTO refused to issue the patent to DABUS because an “inventor” must be a “natural person.”  Facing an insurmountable obstacle of basic statutory interpretation, Thaler argues policy:  The USPTO’s interpretation disincentivizes innovation and devalues human inventorship – both of which threaten the purpose of the Patent Act.  Thaler’s arguments do not persuade the court or this author.

Who really cares?  The outcome seems to be the same for Thaler – whether he is assigned DABUS’s patent rights or awarded the patent for DABUS’s invention.  The public commentary in the USPTO report, published before the case and referenced by the court in Thaler, seems to agree.  There is no apparent injustice in a human taking credit for the AI’s invention.  However, the outcome of Thaler is important when considering who is responsible for (and therefore profits from) AI inventions.

Thaler claims that the AI is the rightful “inventor,” although, practically, someone besides the AI will profit no matter the outcome of Thaler.  But who?  Is it the owner of the AI machine?  Or the developers who created the AI (assuming these are separate people)?  Both the AI owners and developers?  According to the USPTO report, it’s more likely to be the developer, but it may be both.  Joint inventorship is determined by considering whether a person’s contribution to the invention was significantin the scope of the entire invention.  AI developers easily qualify for joint inventorship.  However, AI owners may only claim joint invention if they can show that their contribution to the AI (e.g., the introduction of crucial data which the AI used in its invention process) was significant to the AI’s invention.  These issues are determined on a case-by-case basis.  Thaler, for example, is the owner and developer of DABUS, therefore, Thaler would be the “sole inventor” on the patent application for DABUS’s inventions.

Future plaintiffs in AI “inventor” cases should frame their case around joint ownership, instead of sole ownership.  In this way, the court would consider which humans could profit from AI inventions instead of AI personhood, a theory doomed by philosophical reasoning if not only textualism.  Using the “significant contribution” standard, the AI owner can never legally be named “sole inventor” in exclusion of the AI developers as joint inventors.  In contrast, naming the AI itself as “sole inventor” (as Thaler proposes) allows the AI owner to assign patent rights to himself and exclude the AI developers from benefitting.

A court could be more generous if it compares the implication of Thaler’s proposal to the Patent Act goals in the context of joint inventorship.  Using the USPTO’s interpretation, if AI machines are marketed to numerous owners, the developers profit from patents earned by each individual machine, whether or not any individual owner will profit.  Under Thaler’s interpretation, the one who owns the AI and applies for a patent will benefit from the AI’s invention.  In that case, the developers will only profit from the initial sale of the machine, not from the patent of any AI inventions.  The implication of the USPTO’s interpretation may threaten innovation, as a plaintiff of Thaler’s position might argue, because the individual owners have little incentive to produce valuable and innovative AI-generated inventions if they likely cannot profit from the patents of those inventions.

What happens if no humans can show that they made significant contributions to the AI?  According to public comments summarized by the USPTO, there is no such legal circumstance now.  To some, there never will be.  When the Patent Act says, “Whoever invents . . . may obtain a patent . . .” (emphasis added), it refers to he who contributes significantly to an AI invention (explained above).  AI is legally only a tool used by a natural person, who is himself the inventor.  The non-AI computer is a familiar example of a tool that can be used for invention, where it is obvious that the computer itself is not the “inventor.”  Thaler seems to imply that since no human could conceive DABUS’s inventions (e.g., the fractal geometry), DABUS is no longer a tool but the inventor himself.  Philosophically – and, as the court determines by statutory interpretation, legally – it seems clear that DABUS is only a tool used by Thaler, especially when considering that Thaler (and not DABUS, as he concedes) stands to profit.

AI (including DABUS) is limited to “narrow, application-specific objectives” in contrast to artificial general intelligence (AGI) which resembles human intelligence.  To picture AGI, imagine the AI portrayed in sci-fi movies, e.g., Ex Machina, AI that can pass The Turing Test.  Could AGI hypothetically graduate from “tool” to “inventor”?  The public opinion gathered by the USPTO is split on this question:  One side argues “no.”  Even AGI, they claim, has the same practical human origins as AI; there is no legal difference in patent law.  The other position is “who cares?”  To argue whether AGI is an “inventor” is to claim AGI’s moral personhood, a question best left for the field of philosophy that far exceeds the scope of this discussion.  One day, we may confront this issue in legal or technological reality.  For now, AGI is still a matter of imagination and cinema.

Quantum Computing: Ready to Be Patented!

November 12, 2021
Intellectual Property, Patents

Shuang Liu, MJLST Staffer

In June 2021, IBM presented its newest and most powerful quantum computer—Q System One. This news highlighted people’s continuing confidence and resolution in the research and development of quantum computing. As a matter of fact, several countries and leading high-tech corporations are investing from millions to billions in various aspects of quantum computing technology, and filing patent applications to protect their research achievement.

(Q System One at Fraunhofer-Gesellschaft, Germany)

This article attempts to provide a brief introduction of quantum computing technology (Part I), a potentiometric analysis of the high-tech corporations in quantum computing industry (Part II), and a discussion of potential legal challenges in obtaining patents related to quantum software (Part III).

I. The Quantum Computing Technology and Its Potential Applications

The world’s most famous cat, Schrödinger’s cat, is both alive and dead until it is observed. A quantum bit (“qubit”) behaves similarly—it is both 0 and 1 until it is measured. A classical computer transmits and processes n-bit information with n bits. In contrast, since a qubit represents 0 and 1 at the same time (that is, a superposition of 0 and 1), a quantum computer transmits and processes 2n-bit information with n qubits. Therefore, if a good algorithm is found and the superposition property is utilized properly, a quantum computer can compute exponentially faster than a classical computer.

However, algorithms for quantum computers (hereinafter “quantum algorithms”) are not easy to find and algorithms for classical computers (hereinafter “classical algorithms”) cannot be readily applied on quantum computers. After all, classical algorithms solve problems in a deterministic way (where bits are either 0 or 1), while a quantum computer by its nature processes probabilistic information (where bits are superpositions of 0 and 1). It took people decades to develop the first quantum algorithm that showed capability of solving real-life problems. To date, although quantum algorithms are still far from enough, the available ones do show a great potential of applications.

The first, surest application is cryptanalysis. Integer factorization plays a key role in cryptanalysis. The Shor’s algorithm, one of the most famous quantum algorithms, is able to factor all integers in polynomial time, which has not been made possible by classical algorithms so far.

Another promising application is predicting new chemicals and materials having certain properties. Properties of chemicals and materials usually depend on a variety of factors and can be too complicated for a classical computer to make simulations. A quantum computer, with a stronger computation power, is expected to be able to make such simulations. To be noted, researchers are hopeful to use a quantum computer to find a way to build materials that can be superconducting at room temperature.

Complex processes, such as biological processes, economic development modelling, energy allocation optimization, and big data processing, are also good candidates for which a quantum computer can use its exceptional computation power.

II. Patent Landscape of Leading Corporations

People’s confidence in the potential of quantum computing leads to a race in patents. In the last five years, nearly a thousand patent applications related to quantum computing have been filed in the US, and a little bit fewer before the WIPO.

The figures below show the number of applications filed by leading corporations related to quantum computing and the number of applications related to specific areas. Among them, IBM is the first active patent applicant, leading other corporations by big margins and showing interest in almost every aspect of quantum computing. Other leading applicants are interested in different aspects of quantum computing. For example, Microsoft is mainly working on the software side (machine learning and optimization), while Intel devotes its most energy on the hardware side (quantum circuits). It is also worth noting that Bank of America has filed many applications in the cryptology aspect of quantum computing—it is endeavoring to be the first to use quantum security keys to protect its data.

Picture1

Figure 1

Picture2

Figure 2

Picture3

Figure 3

Turning our eyes to the world, we can see that Huawei, a Chinese telecommunication company, has filed a large number of quantum computing related applications before the World Intellectual Property Office (WIPO). Its major interests reside in quantum communication and securing such communication with cryptographs. NEC, a Japanese electronics corporation is also an active global patent applicant. It mainly focuses on building a quantum computer itself.

Picture4

Figure 4

Picture5

Figure 5

III. Potential Legal Issues

In the process of obtaining a patent, the most common substantive rejections are novelty and obviousness rejections. For a quantum software application, a patent-eligibility rejection is also likely. The subsections below discuss patent-eligibility and obviousness challenges especially for quantum software applications.

A. Patent Eligibility

The case law on patent eligibility of software has been unclear and inconsistent. This subsection does not attempt to, nor can it, predict the patent eligibility of quantum software. But at least there are more arguments available for patent eligibility of quantum software than those of classical software.

Courts tend to find a software claim ineligible if it is “not tied to any particular novel machine or apparatus, only a general-purpose computer.” From a policy perspective, such claims are disfavored by courts because “[they] would risk disproportionately tying up the use of the underlying ideas and . . . pose . . . risk of pre-emption.”

To facilitate discussion and avoid confusion, the remainder of this and next subsection will discuss with claim 1 ofU.S. Pat. No. US10990677B2 (hereinafter “‘677 claim 1”):

“A method, comprising:

programming a quantum computing device to implement quantum circuits that perform a machine learning technique using one or more qubits of the quantum computing device, wherein the machine learning technique employs principal component analysis based on at least one median estimate stored as a quantum bit string . . . .”

In a nutshell, ‘677 claim 1 recites a machine learning technique implemented by a quantum computing device. It was drafted in a way that it is closely tied to the quantum computing device, in contrast to “a general-purpose computer.” Therefore, if challenged, the patentee can always argue that this method is closely tied to “a particular novel machine,” and can’t possibly preempt all use of the underlying concept in the claim.

It is worth noting that, instead of simply claiming a machine learning method implemented by a quantum computer, the claim ties the implementation with “quantum circuits” and “one or more qubits.” When drafted this way, the patentee has a strong argument that this claim is not an abstract idea under the commonly used pen and paper test,because a human cannot implement quantum circuits and/or use qubits either mentally or by a pen and a piece of paper.

Other quantum software or algorithm patents might have other arguments available. For example, the patent eligibility of an error correction algorithm patent can be supported by the fact that it greatly improved the performance of a quantum computer, which is a common theme of the current case law of patent eligibility.

B. Obviousness

As can be expected, ‘677 claim 1 has been challenged under 35 U.S.C. §103. In the Non-Final Office Action, the Examiner asserted Mork et al. in view of Kappor et al. in further view of Kerner et al. renders the claim obvious, wherein Mork discloses a classical computer implementing a similar machine learning technique, Kerner discloses a quantum computing device, and Kappor recites that “[t]he machine learning acceleration hardware . . . may comprise . . . a quantum computing device” without providing any details. Such a combination of references can be a recipe for obviousness rejections against quantum software claims.

The key for this rejection to stand is the “connecting” reference (in this example, Kappor), that is, how the classical algorithm can be connected to a quantum computing device. As discussed in Section I of this article, it’s not just that the computation powers of a classical computer and a quantum computer are different; the ways they compute are not at all the same.

Accordingly, for this specific example, the rejection is erroneous because Kappor does not provide any details of how to apply its machine learning process to a quantum computing device, let alone providing teachings of how to apply the machine learning technique disclosed by Mork to a quantum computer. In general, a reference that motivates and teaches to apply a classical algorithm on a quantum computer can be extremely difficult to find. That is because, there is few, if any, classical algorithm can be readily applied on a quantum computer!

Therefore, it is fair to say that a reference in the classical software domain is almost never effective to defeat the patentability of a quantum software.

Conclusion

Although quantum computing technology is still in its infancy, people are very confident in its potential. Corporations in the industries of communication, computing, electronics, and even finance have joined the patent race of quantum computing related technologies. The patent space of quantum computing technology is still quite sparce, and a patent on quantum computing can be obtained much more easily now than later.

NFTs and the Tweet Worth $2.9 Million: Beliefs Versus the Legal Reality

April 24, 2021
Copyrights, Intellectual Property, Internet, Property Law

Emily Newman, MJLST Staffer

A clip of Lebron James dunking a basketball, a picture of Lindsay Lohan’s face, and an X-ray of William Shatner’s teeth—what do all these seemingly random things have in common? They’ve all been sold as NFTs for thousands to hundreds of thousands of dollars. It seems like almost everyone, from celebrities to your “average Joe” is taking part in this newest trend, but do all parties really know what they’re getting themselves into? Before addressing that point, let’s look at what exactly are these “NFTs.”

What are they?

NFT stands for “non-fungible token.” In contrast to fungible items, this means that it is unique and can’t be traded or replaced for something else. As explained by Mitchell Clark from The Verge, “a bitcoin is fungible — trade one for another bitcoin, and you’ll have exactly the same thing. A one-of-a-kind trading card, however, is non-fungible. If you traded it for a different card, you’d have something completely different.” NFTs can basically be anything digital, and while headlines have been made over Twitter founder Jack Dorsey selling his first tweet as an NFT for $2.9 million, their popularity has really exploded within the world of digital art. Examples include the Nyan Cat meme selling for around $700,000 and the artist Beeple selling a collage of his work at Christie’s for $69 million (for reference, Monet’s “Nymphéas,” was sold for $54 million in 2014).

Anyone can download and view NFTs for free, so what is all the hype about? Buyers get ownership of the NFT. “To put it in terms of physical art collecting: anyone can buy a Monet print. But only one person can own the original.” This originality provides a sense of authenticity to the art, which is important these days “when forged art is proliferating online.” To facilitate this buying, selling, and reselling of digital art, several online marketplaces have emerged such as OpenSea (where one can purchase their very own CryptoKitties), Nifty Gateway, and Rarible.

NFTs, Copyright Law, and Consumer Protection

As mentioned above, NFT purchasers can own an original piece of digital art—but there’s a catch. Owning the NFT itself does not necessarily equate to ownership of the original work and its underlying copyright. In other words, buying an NFT “does not mean that the copyright to that artwork transfers to the buyer,” it is simply a “digital receipt showing that the holder owns a version of the work.” Without the underlying copyright, the purchaser of an NFT does not have the right to reproduce or prepare derivative works, or to distribute the work—that right belongs exclusively to the copyright owner.

Mike Shinoda, one of the musicians behind Linkin Park and an NFT artist himself, states that “there’s nobody who’s serious about NFTs who really humors the idea that what you’re selling is the copyright  . . . .” However, as Pramod Chintalapoodi from the Chip Law Group points out, oftentimes “buyers’ beliefs about what they own do not translate to legal reality.” Chintalapoodi also describes how companies who sell NFTs are not transparent about this either; for instance, Decentraland describes itself as the “first-ever virtual world owned by its users,” but “according to Article 12.1 of Decentraland’s Terms of Use, it is Metaverse Holdings Ltd. that owns all IP rights on the site.” However, its users still spend millions of dollars on the site buying NFTs.

Going forward, NFT purchasers should clarify with the seller about what exactly it is they are purchasing. Preston J. Byrne from CoinDesk encourages consumers to ask “are you buying information, copyrights, bragging rights or none or all of those things? Do you have the documentation to back all of that up?” Additionally, are you even buying an original work or did the seller create an NFT of someone else’s work? Asking these questions early on can help with avoiding “significant financial or legal pain down the road.” While it may not be the norm to receive the underlying copyright when purchasing an NFT today, and while lawmakers may not step in anytime soon (or at all) and force sellers to display their terms explicitly, it is predicted that transferring copyrights to the purchaser will be a “valued feature for NFT platforms” in the future.

 

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