Intellectual Property

Mechanical Curation: Spotify, Archillect, Algorithms, and AI

Jon Watkins, MJLST Staffer

 

A great deal of attention has been paid recently to artificial intelligence. This CGPGrey YouTube video is typical of much modern thought on artificial intelligence. The technology is incredibly exciting- until it threatens your job. This train of thought has led many, including the video above, to search for kinds of jobs which are unavoidably “human,” and thereby safe.

 

However, any feeling of safety that lends may be illusory. AI programs like Emily Howell, which composes sheet music, and Botnik, which writes jokes and articles, are widespread at this point. What these programs produce is increasingly indistinguishable from human-created content- not to mention increasingly innovative. Take, as another example, Harold Cohen’s comment on his AARON drawing program: “[AARON] generates objects that hold their own more than adequately, in human terms, in any gathering of similar, but human-produced, objects. . . It constitutes an existence proof of the power of machines to do some of the things we had assumed required thought. . . and creativity, and self-awareness.”

 

Thinking about what these machines create brings up more questions than answers. At what point is a program independent from its creator? Is any given “AI” actually creating works by itself, or is the author of the AI creating works through a proxy? The answer to these questions are enormously important, and any satisfying answer must have both legal and technical components.

 

To make the scope of these questions more manageable, let’s limit ourselves to one specific subset of creative work- a subset which is absolutely filled with “AI” at the moment- curation. Curation is the process of sorting through masses of art, music, or writing for the content that might be worth something to you. Curators have likely been around as long as humans have been collecting things, but up until recently they’ve been human. In the digital era, most people likely carry a dozen curators in their pocket. From Spotify and Pandora’s predictions of the music you might like, to Archillect’s AI mood board, to Facebook’s “People You May Know”, content curation is huge.

 

First, the legal issues. Curated collections are eligible for copyright protection, as long as they exhibit some “minimal degree of creativity.” Feist v. Rural Telephone Co., 499 U.S. 340, 345 (1991). However, as a recent monkey debacle clarified, only human authors are protected by copyright. This is implied by § 102 of the Copyright Act, which states in part that copyright protection subsists “in original works of authorship.” Works of authorship are created by authors, and authors are human. Therefore, at least legally, the author of the AI may be creating works through a proxy. However, as in the monkey case above, some courts may find there is no copyright-eligible author at all. If neither a monkey, nor a human who provides the monkey with creative tools is an author, is a human who provides a computer with creative tools an author? Goldstein v. California, a 1973 Supreme Court case, has been interpreted as standing for the proposition that computer-generated work must include “significant input from an author or user” to be copyright eligible. Does that decision need to be updated for a different era of computers?

 

The answer to this question is where a technical discussion may be helpful, because the answer may involve a simple spectrum of independence.

 

On one end of the spectrum is algorithmic curation which is deeply connected to decisions made by the algorithm’s programmer. If a programmer at Spotify writes a program which recommends I listen to certain songs, because those songs are written by artists I have a history of listening to, the end result (the recommendation) is only separated by two or three steps from the programmer. The programmer creates a rigid set of rules, which the computer implements. This seems to be no less a human work of authorship than a book written on a typewriter. Just as a programmer is separated from the end result by the program, a writer may be separated from the end result by various machinery within the typewriter. The wishes of both the programmer and the writer are carried out fairly directly, and the end results are undoubtedly human works of authorship.

 

More complex AI, however, is often more independent. Take for example Archillect, whose creator stated in an interview “It’s not reflecting my taste anymore . . .I’d say 60 percent of the things [she posts] are not things that I would like and share.” The process involved in Archillect, as described in the same interview, is much more complex than the simple Spotify program outlined above- “Deploying a network of bots that crawl Tumblr, Flickr, 500px, and other image-heavy sites, Archillect hunts for keywords and metadata that she likes, and posts the most promising results. . .  her whole method of curation is based on the relative popularity of her different posts.”

 

While its author undoubtedly influenced Archillect through various programming decisions (which sites to set up bots for, frequency of posts, broad themes), much of what Archillect does is what we would characterize as judgement calls if a human were doing the work. Deeply artistic questions like “does this fit into the theme I’m shooting for?” or “is this the type of content that will be well-received by my target audience?” are being asked and answered solely by Archillect, and are answered- as seen above- differently from how Archillect’s creator would answer them.

Even closer to the “independent” end of the spectrum, however, even more complex attempts at machine curation exist. This set of programs includes some of Google’s experiments, which attempt to make a better curator by employing cutting-edge machine learning technology. This attempt comes from the same company which recently used machine learning to create an AI which taught itself to walk with very little programmer interaction. If the same approaches to AI are shared between the experiments, Google’s attempts at creating a curation AI might result in software more independent (and possibly more worthy of the title of author) than any software yet.


Invisible Cryptography: Should Quantum Communications Be Subjected to Legal Restraint?

Jacob Weindling, MJLST Staffer

Sending secret messages across the world has traditionally required sending messages that risked interception or eavesdropping by unintended recipients. Letters sent on horseback, telegraphs sent over wires, and radio transmissions through the atmosphere were all theoretically capable of interception in transit between the sender and the receiver. This problem was particularly pronounced in World War II, when the Allies easily intercepted secret Axis transmissions and vice versa. To ensure secrecy the messages were consequently encoded, resulting in seemingly random jumbles of characters to unintended recipients.

Message encoding in World War II operated on two separate principles. For particularly sensitive messages, ‘one-time pads’ were created using (theoretically) random values as starting points. This technique for encryption, while essentially ‘unbreakable’ without access to a copy of the one-time pad, required both the sender and the recipient to hold identical copies of the pads. The second method used machines to transform plaintext messages into code. This second method, famously employed by Nazi Germany’s Enigma machine, substituted true randomness for a complicated but non-random algorithm that provided convenience and reliability. While Enigma proved a sufficient safeguard against traditional pen-and-paper codebreakers, early computers proved adept at quickly defeating the encryption, as dramatically highlighted in “The Imitation Game,” the recent film detailing Alan Turing’s invention of a codebreaking computer during World War II.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, cryptographic systems were added to the State Department’s International Traffic in Arms Regulations (“ITAR”) Munitions List shortly after World War II. Thus, while the U.S. government was severely limited in its ability to shield secret messages from foreign adversaries, it categorized the tools, methods, and development of cryptographic systems as munitions and severely regulated their export to foreign entities. While today the Department of State has narrowed the scope of cryptography to exclude civilian products, regulations remain on specialized military applications. A key assumption of this regulatory regime is that sensitive diplomatic and military information will be transmitted ‘in the clear’ for all who happen to have access to the channel of communications. While today many communications have moved from radio waves to fiberoptic cables, both systems remain vulnerable to surveillance over the air and online.

Last year however, China took a major step toward a vast departure in the philosophy of secret communication. With the launch of the Quess satellite, China hopes to enable quantum entanglement communication between two ground sites. The satellite would in principle transmit a photon to the ground, while retaining a photon that is ‘entangled’ with the released photon. Any changes to the photon on the satellite would thus be reflected in the photon on the ground, serving as a rudimentary method for transmitting binary information. This test comes on the heels of an experiment at Delft University of Technology in the Netherlands, which demonstrated the transmission of information between two electrons separated by a distance of 17 kilometers.

A unique feature of this mode of transmission is that information is not propagated from the sender to the receiver via radio waves, which can be intercepted, but rather via the principle of quantum entanglement. Any attempt to eavesdrop would theoretically be perfectly detectable, as the act of observing the photons being transmitted would potentially change their state and render the communication either unreadable or otherwise obviously tampered with. A system could therefore be developed to automatically cut off communications if disturbances are detected.

Interestingly enough, the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office has granted a patent that describes a similar method for transmitting information via quantum entanglement. The invention, claimed by Zhiliang Yuan and Andrew James Shields on behalf of Toshiba Corporation, was filed with the PTO on September 8, 2006 and published August 7, 2012. This patent builds on prior art that envisioned quantum cryptography, much of which was quietly filed with the PTO during the preceding two decades. Nevertheless, neither Congress nor the Department of State has acted to incorporate any reference to quantum communications into law, perhaps reflecting an unwillingness to address emerging technology that sounds like science fiction, as with self-driving cars and cyberspace before it.

Despite Congress’ history of lethargy in addressing new innovations and the State Department’s regulatory silence on the matter, legislative action or regulation may yet be premature. China has claimed its satellite has successfully sent a ‘hack-proof’ communication from its satellite, but the results have not been studied by the scientific community. Furthermore, no public demonstration has been made of a practical, non-laboratory quantum entanglement communication product. Even if the technology were to be brought to market, any early application will likely have severely low bandwidth by today’s standards, more closely resembling the telegraph than a gigabit internet connection. But with organizations around the world exploring ground- and space-based experiments with quantum communications, the technology appears poised to exit science fiction and enter practical application. Within the next generation, the codebreaking arms race may ultimately become obsolete, and Congress will be faced with a need to address the new secret communication regime.


Scents: The Unconventional Potential for Trademarks

Amber Peterson, MJLST Staffer

Trademarks are intended to create an immediate brand recognition in the consumer’s mind. Consumers who are satisfied with a product must have a way to easily distinguish it from nearly identical or similar products from competitors. Thus, trademarks play a powerful role in branding and marketing as seen in the Nike “swoosh” and the Target bullseye. These traditional marks or logos are what are typically thought of when thinking about trademarks. However, unconventional trademarks such as the catch phrase “Hasta la Vista Baby” from the film, “The Terminator” and the red color of Christian Louboutin soles can be just as effective to identify a product or service.

The key requirement is distinctiveness. If a product can be thought of as inherently distinctive, it can be trademarked. Thus, the United States Patent and Trademark Office allows the trademarking of a scent since scent is distinctive in that it is deeply tied to memory recognition. Although this option is available, few have accomplished the task since the Patent and Trademark Office has put strict boundaries around what smells qualify.

First, the scent must serve no important practical function other than to help identify and distinguish the brand. This means that those smells whose only purpose is smell-related, such as perfumes and air fresheners, cannot receive scent trademark protection. Second, a detailed written description of the non-visual mark is required to complete the registration process. The problem with scents is the subjective nature of them. The perception of smell can be very different among a number of noses and is thus open to interpretation. This creates difficulty in successfully representing the scent graphically which is required to determine whether something is or is not appropriate for a trademark.

To date, there are only about 12 scent trademarks in the United States (e.g., the flowery musk smell in Verizon Wireless stores and the pina colada scent that a ukulele company scents its ukuleles with). As evidenced, the process of registering a scent can be challenging. However, there are marketing advantages that may make it worthwhile if the product or service resonates more deeply with a consumer compared to a typical visual mark or logo trademark.


U of M Asserts Sovereign Immunity Prevents USPTO From Invalidating Its Patents

Prof. Richard Stern, MJLST Guest Blogger

The University of Minnesota owns a number of patents on cell phone signal processing technology that was invented by Professor Georgios Giannakis of U of M’s Department of Electrical and Computer Engineering and his colleagues. The U of M claims that AT&T, Sprint, T-Mobile, and Cellco Partnership (a joint venture between Verizon and Vodaphone, doing business as Verizon Wireless) are infringing five of these patents, and in 2014 it sued the companies in Minnesota federal district court for patent infringement. The U of M is “a great research university,” President Eric Kaler said, and “must vigorously protect our faculty, [their] discoveries and the overall interests of our university.” (The U collects about $40 million annually in royalties from licensing and the commercialization of faculty work.) Apparently, the cell phone carriers infringed the patents by utilizing Ericsson radio chips that code signals for wireless transmission and practicing patented methods the chips performed.

 

The case was assigned to Chief Judge John R. Tunheim in Minneapolis, who denied the defendants’ motion to dismiss the case for defective pleading, in September 2015. He did reject the U’s claim, however, that the defendants engaged in “willful blindness” in infringing the patents. Judge Tunheim said that the U “alleges no actions that would constitute deliberate avoidance of knowledge” that they were infringing, although they did know of the patents and they “actively entice[d] their customers through advertising, marketing and sales activity to use [their] infringing products.”

 

Ericsson, the wireless carriers’ equipment supplier, then acted to protect its defendant customers against the U by intervening in the Minnesota infringement suit. Ericsson then filed inter partes review (IPR) proceedings in the USPTO to invalidate the U of M patents on which the U was suing the carriers. An IPR is a new type of administrative proceeding that the recent America Invents Act established to provide a swifter and supposedly cheaper way for small companies to resist demands by trolls that they pay patent tribute. Instead of engaging in district court litigation, an aggrieved party can seek an IPR before the USPTO, which then employs its patent expertise to determine whether the patents it issued are invalid, and (if so) consequently relieving the aggrieved party from infringement liability (an invalid patent cannot be infringed).

 

Here is where the complications set in. The 11th Amendment preserves state sovereign immunity against suit—“The Judicial power of the United States shall not be construed to extend to any suit in law or equity, commenced or prosecuted against one of the United States . . . .” Thus, when a patent owner sued a Florida state agency that provided college tuition payment plans, for patent infringement, the Supreme Court held the law subjecting states to infringement liability unconstitutional under the 11th Amendment. Florida Prepaid Postsecondary Ed. Expense Bd. v. College Savings Bank, 527 U.S. 627 (1999). Accordingly, in two January 2017 IPR cases, the USPTO held that the 11th Amendment required it not to allow proceedings before it against Maryland and Florida. Neochord, Inc. v. Univ. of Maryland, Baltimore and Harpoon Medical, Inc., IPR2016-00208 (May 23, 2017), http://www.ptablitigationblog.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/06/IPR2016-00208.pdf; Covidien LP v. University of Florida Research Found. Inc., IPR2016-01274 (Jan. 25, 2017), http://www.finnegan.com/files/upload/LES_Insights_Column/2017/CovidienvUFIPRNos20160126476.pdf. Although waiver was urged, the USPTO said it was inapplicable because the 11th Amendment is jurisdictional—it deprived the tribunal of any jurisdiction to act, so that jurisdiction could be considered at any time. Waiver requires an affirmative act of invoking federal jurisdiction in the relevant tribunal, and that had not occurred.

 

Ericsson argued, in support of its claim that there was jurisdiction to hear its IPR challenges, that the U had waived its 11th Amendment immunity by suing Ericsson’s customers in the Minnesota district court. Ericsson said that the U “has consented to jurisdiction,” when it sued Ericsson’s customers in the district court, because by filing lawsuits against Ericsson’s customers, “it could surely anticipate” that Ericsson would bring an IPR case at the USPTO to invalidate the patents asserted against its customers for using its products. The U has now urged the USPTO to dismiss Ericsson’s IPR cases, insisting that it has not waived its sovereign immunity by suing the phone carriers—not Ericsson, a third party to the U’s patent infringement suits.

 

The U argues that the law is clear that a waiver must be personal, i.e., filing a lawsuit or counterclaims in the same action and in the same forum. Thus, in Regents of Univ. of New Mexico v. Knight, 321 F.3d 1111, 1125 (Fed. Cir. 2003), the Federal Circuit held that it would be unfair to let New Mexico sue in federal court to enforce a right to ownership of patents arising from contracts “and, at the same time, to claim immunity from liability [in the same case] for royalties or other compensation arising from those same contracts and conduct.” The court added, “Moreover, because a state as plaintiff can surely anticipate that a defendant will have to file any compulsory counterclaims [in the same case] or be forever barred from doing so, it is not unreasonable to view the state as having consented to such counterclaims.” Id. at 1126. On the other hand, the Federal Circuit has held that “a state that files a [patent infringement] lawsuit in one district court does not waive its immunity in a related [invalidity declaratory judgment] lawsuit filed by a party in another district court.” Board of Regents of the Univ. of Wis. Sys. v. Phoenix Int’l Software, Inc., 653 F.3d 448, 462 (7th Cir. 2011) (citing Tegic Communications Corp. v. Board of Regents of the Univ. of Texas Sys., 458 F.3d 1335, 1342 (Fed. Cir. 2006)).

 

In the Tegic case, in which UT sued Tegic’s customers for patent infringement in Texas, the Federal Circuit held that UT waived its immunity against a declaratory judgment counterclaim in Texas. But UT did not waive immunity against the separate declaratory judgment action that Tegic wanted to bring in Washington (where Tegic resided). The court said that if Tegic wanted to litigate patent validity, it could intervene in the Texas case and subject itself to infringement liability if the patent was valid and infringed. This is consistent with the Supreme Court’s concept in the College Savings Bank that the 11th Amendment is more about where a state is willing to be sued than whether it can be sued—for example, most states allow suits against them in their own courts of general jurisdiction. (But they don’t want to be sued in another jurisdiction.)

 

Based on this case law, the U argued: “IPR petitions are [not] counterclaims nor adjudicated in the same forum—they are a different action brought in a different forum.” Further, “a state that files an infringement action does not waive its immunity from a different action challenging the patent in a different forum.” The USPTO had said previously that it was not passing on what would happen if the patentee did file a patent infringement suit, as U of M did here. Furthermore, Ericsson did intervene in the Minnesota district court patent infringement suit, as the Tegic court said the equipment seller should if it wanted to challenge validity. But the Minnesota district court has stayed the federal patent action (at Ericsson’s request) to await the result in the IPR case, as district courts usually do in order to let the experts in the USPTO resolve the patent issues for them. (Presumably, the court will vacate its stay if the IPR case is dismissed.)

 

The U quoted the Federal Circuit opinion in Tegic that insisted that Tegic could not show that adjudication of its claim of invalidity was “not available in the Texas action,” and the U then argued, “Similarly, Ericsson cannot show that adjudication of invalidity counterclaims is not available in the Minnesota court,” where the U has (constructively) waived its immunity. There is a serious conflict here between the respective policies of the 11th Amendment that states should not be subjected to forums not of their choice and of the America Invents Act that a cheap, fast, expert determination of patent validity should be available in lieu of litigation in courts. Like the College Savings Bank case, this case may well end up in the Supreme Court. One important issue, not raised or resolved so far, is whether Congress may constitutionally impose, as a condition of the statutory right to acquire the benefit of a patent, and thus make as an integral element of the patent right, that the patent is subject to validity determination in IPR proceedings. Or would the 11th Amendment make that an unconstitutional condition on a benefit, as applied to a state, rather than a legitimate part of the statutory definition of a patent right?


The Future of Zero-Calorie Soft Drink Trademarks After the TTAB’s Coke Zero™ Ruling and Dr. Pepper Snapple’s Pending Federal Circuit Appeal

Joseph Novak, MJLST Staffer

For the past 13 years, Coca-Cola has been trying to trademark nothing. Well not actually nothing. Zero. As in zero calories. During this time, the Trademark Trial and Appeal Board (TTAB) has denied trademarking Zero for soft drinks, as the term was either generic (Referring to the genus of the good, i.e. Coke Zero as a zero calorie sports drink) or merely descriptive (Describing what the good is, i.e. “Zero” describing “Coke” as a zero-calorie version of the drink); neither of which is distinctive enough upon the Abercrombie spectrum to warrant trademark protection.

Not surprisingly, other large soft drink companies have opposed allowing Coke to register “Zero”, as no other company would be able to use “Zero” on their own mark subsequent to Coke obtaining such a trademark. This past May, the TTAB issued a ruling in favor of Coke (over the opposition of Dr. Pepper Snapple Group) allowing Coke to register numerous trademarks containing “Zero” for their soft drinks. The TTAB held that “Zero” had “acquired distinctiveness through a showing of secondary meaning”, which is a fancy way of saying that Coke had proven that the millions of dollars they had spent on marketing “Zero” meant that consumers of soft drinks were now likely to associate the term “Zero” with the Coca-Cola brand.

The TTAB ruling also contemplates Coke’s trademark infringement claim against Dr. Pepper’s “Diet Rite Pure Zero” mark for likelihood of confusion. For a mark to infringe upon another, the potentially infringing mark must cause confusion to the consuming public as to source, i.e. a showing that consumers of soft drinks would confuse the source of “Diet Rite Pure Zero” with “Coke Zero” given the distinctiveness of the “Coke Zero” mark. The TTAB essentially punts the infringement issue, dismissing Coke’s infringement claim for a failure to prove priority (because Coke could not show that they had acquired distinctiveness through before Dr. Pepper’s use of the term “Zero”, there was no infringement cause of action).

Dr. Pepper Snapple has appealed the issue of distinctiveness to the Federal Circuit, asking the court to find “Zero” as generic for zero-calorie soft drinks. That appeal is still pending. Assuming the TTAB’s finding of acquired distinctiveness for “Coke Zero” holds, the question becomes whether future uses of “[Soft Drink X] Zero” will be barred by the Patent and Trademark Office (PTO) for likelihood of confusion with “Coke Zero”? Or does this TTAB ruling only prevent future use of “Zero” on its own as a mark for soft drinks?

As outlined in this previous MJLST article, both the PTO (in deciding whether or not to register a trademark) and the Federal Circuit (who hears appeals from TTAB decisions) use the Dupont factors to determine whether there is a confusing similarity between a pending mark and an existing mark. These 13 factors, analyzed together as a whole, include:

  1. The similarity or dissimilarity of the marks in their entireties as to appearance, sound, connotation, and commercial impression.
  2. The similarity or dissimilarity and nature of the goods described in an application or registration or in connection with which a prior mark is in use.
  3. The similarity or dissimilarity of established, likely-to-continue trade channels.
  4. The conditions under which and buyers to whom sales are made, i.e. “impulse” vs. careful, sophisticated purchasing.
  5. The fame of the prior mark.
  6. The number and nature of similar marks in use on similar goods.
  7. The nature and extent of any actual confusion.
  8. The length of time during and the conditions under which there has been concurrent use without evidence of actual confusion.
  9. The variety of goods on which a mark is or is not used.
  10. The market interface between the applicant and the owner of a prior mark.
  11. The extent to which applicant has a right to exclude others from use of its mark on its goods.
  12. The extent of potential confusion.
  13. Any other established fact probative of the effect of use.

Like many likelihood of confusion cases, the analysis would likely come down to (1) similarity between the marks in terms of sight, sound, and meaning, and (2) whether or not either side could show actual confusion or a lack of such. For example, Coke would argue that any subsequent use of “Zero” in connection with a soft drink would be likely to confuse consumers that (according to the TTAB ruling) have come to associate “Zero” and soft drinks with Coca-Cola products. On the other hand, any subsequent user of “Zero” for soft drinks would likely have to rely upon a dissimilarity in appearance of the mark (as “Zero” would be the same in terms of sound and meaning), or show a lack of actual confusion between the two marks. Otherwise, the potential subsequent user could attempt to argue that “Coke Zero” is the mark in its entirety, and that “[Soft Drink X] Zero” is inherently dissimilar in its nature and thus, unlikely to cause consumer confusion.

In any regard, evidence of actual consumer confusion often comes down to which side has better survey design and results, which often correlates with which side has more resources to conduct such a survey. Thus, if the Federal Circuit upholds the TTAB decision to allow the “Zero” trademark, you better believe that Coca-Cola will put in a hero-like effort to protect their long sought-after victory over “Zero.”


The Future of Zero-Calorie Soft Drink Trademarks After the TTAB’s Coke Zero™ Ruling and Dr. Pepper Snapple’s Pending Federal Circuit Appeal

Joseph Novak, MJLST Staffer

For the past 13 years, Coca-Cola has been trying to trademark nothing. Well not actually nothing. Zero. As in zero calories. During this time, the Trademark Trial and Appeal Board (TTAB) has denied trademarking Zero for soft drinks, as the term was either generic (Referring to the genus of the good, i.e. Coke Zero as a zero calorie sports drink) or merely descriptive (Describing what the good is, i.e. “Zero” describing “Coke” as a zero-calorie version of the drink); neither of which is distinctive enough upon the Abercrombie spectrum to warrant trademark protection.

Not surprisingly, other large soft drink companies have opposed allowing Coke to register “Zero”, as no other company would be able to use “Zero” on their own mark subsequent to Coke obtaining such a trademark. This past May, the TTAB issued a ruling in favor of Coke (over the opposition of Dr. Pepper Snapple Group) allowing Coke to register numerous trademarks containing “Zero” for their soft drinks. The TTAB held that “Zero” had “acquired distinctiveness through a showing of secondary meaning”, which is a fancy way of saying that Coke had proven that the millions of dollars they had spent on marketing “Zero” meant that consumers of soft drinks were now likely to associate the term “Zero” with the Coca-Cola brand.

The TTAB ruling also contemplates Coke’s trademark infringement claim against Dr. Pepper’s “Diet Rite Pure Zero” mark for likelihood of confusion. For a mark to infringe upon another, the potentially infringing mark must cause confusion to the consuming public as to source, i.e. a showing that consumers of soft drinks would confuse the source of “Diet Rite Pure Zero” with “Coke Zero” given the distinctiveness of the “Coke Zero” mark. The TTAB essentially punts the infringement issue, dismissing Coke’s infringement claim for a failure to prove priority (because Coke could not show that they had acquired distinctiveness through before Dr. Pepper’s use of the term “Zero”, there was no infringement cause of action).

Dr. Pepper Snapple has appealed the issue of distinctiveness to the Federal Circuit, asking the court to find “Zero” as generic for zero-calorie soft drinks. That appeal is still pending. Assuming the TTAB’s finding of acquired distinctiveness for “Coke Zero” holds, the question becomes whether future uses of “[Soft Drink X] Zero” will be barred by the Patent and Trademark Office (PTO) for likelihood of confusion with “Coke Zero”? Or does this TTAB ruling only prevent future use of “Zero” on its own as a mark for soft drinks?

As outlined in this previous MJLST article, both the PTO (in deciding whether or not to register a trademark) and the Federal Circuit (who hears appeals from TTAB decisions) use the Dupont factors to determine whether there is a confusing similarity between a pending mark and an existing mark. These 13 factors, analyzed together as a whole, include:

  1. The similarity or dissimilarity of the marks in their entireties as to appearance, sound, connotation, and commercial impression.
  2. The similarity or dissimilarity and nature of the goods described in an application or registration or in connection with which a prior mark is in use.
  3. The similarity or dissimilarity of established, likely-to-continue trade channels.
  4. The conditions under which and buyers to whom sales are made, i.e. “impulse” vs. careful, sophisticated purchasing.
  5. The fame of the prior mark.
  6. The number and nature of similar marks in use on similar goods.
  7. The nature and extent of any actual confusion.
  8. The length of time during and the conditions under which there has been concurrent use without evidence of actual confusion.
  9. The variety of goods on which a mark is or is not used.
  10. The market interface between the applicant and the owner of a prior mark.
  11. The extent to which applicant has a right to exclude others from use of its mark on its goods.
  12. The extent of potential confusion.
  13. Any other established fact probative of the effect of use.

Like many likelihood of confusion cases, the analysis would likely come down to (1) similarity between the marks in terms of sight, sound, and meaning, and (2) whether or not either side could show actual confusion or a lack of such. For example, Coke would argue that any subsequent use of “Zero” in connection with a soft drink would be likely to confuse consumers that (according to the TTAB ruling) have come to associate “Zero” and soft drinks with Coca-Cola products. On the other hand, any subsequent user of “Zero” for soft drinks would likely have to rely upon a dissimilarity in appearance of the mark (as “Zero” would be the same in terms of sound and meaning), or show a lack of actual confusion between the two marks. Otherwise, the potential subsequent user could attempt to argue that “Coke Zero” is the mark in its entirety, and that “[Soft Drink X] Zero” is inherently dissimilar in its nature and thus, unlikely to cause consumer confusion.

In any regard, evidence of actual consumer confusion often comes down to which side has better survey design and results, which often correlates with which side has more resources to conduct such a survey. Thus, if the Federal Circuit upholds the TTAB decision to allow the “Zero” trademark, you better believe that Coca-Cola will put in a hero-like effort to protect their long sought-after victory over “Zero.”


This Time It’s Personal(ized): Pharmaceutical Companies, Dosing Regimen Patents, and Personalized Medicine

Peter Selness, MJLST Staffer

An area of developing healthcare garnering attention in both the medical community and areas of intellectual property law is that of personalized medicine.   Personalized medicine changes the old one-size-fit-all approach of medication dosing to instead tailor medications to each individual patient based upon their genetic make-up.  This practice promises numerous benefits for patient healthcare, but also has some substantial road blocks to overcome before becoming a reality.  Among the issues facing this field of medicine is the controversy surrounding the patentability of personalized medicine methods.  Several recent cases such as Mayo Collaborative Services v. Prometheus Laboratories and Association for Molecular Pathology v. Myriad Genetics, Inc. have raised serious concerns over whether or not personalized medicine methods are based on patentable subject matter.

This concern was taken one step further in the recent article Decline of Dosage Regimen Patents in Light of Emerging Next-Generation DNA Sequencing Technology and Possible Strategic Responses, which discussed the potential impact this may have on the pharmaceutical industry.  Among the concerns addressed was the impact of not being able to obtain patents on dosing regimens for drugs developed by pharmaceutical companies.  While a pharmaceutical company should have no problem patenting a novel medication it has developed, adding additional patent protection to its patent portfolio surrounding that product, such as patents on dosing regimens, has long been a practice utilized to keep competitors at bay.  Considering the massive investment in research and development required to bring a new drug to market (sometimes billions of dollars), pharmaceutical companies are rightly alarmed by any potential loss of patent protection they may experience on their product.  As the article mentioned, this issue will also surely be compounded by the transition to personalized medicine and integrated healthcare, but it may also be a self-solving problem.

Though the article is concerned with the impact personalized medicine may have on pharmaceutical companies if they no longer can obtain patent protection on dosing regimens, researchers developing personalized medicine methods currently face the same issues.  In order for personalized medicine to have an impact on pharmaceutical companies, it must be a fully developed method that has been integrated into everyday healthcare practices.  For that to happen, researchers must have a fundamental understanding of what specific genes give rise to differences in patients’ responses to medication.  This has proven to be a long and expensive process requiring the systematic sequencing of millions of genes from numerous subpopulations of patients; and all of this work is expensive.  Given that the end result of personalized medicine research is a method of administering medication based on an individual’s genetic make-up, patents on personalized medicine fall victim to the same issue facing pharmaceutical companies’ dosing regimen patents.

Lacking the ability to obtain patent protection on personalized medicine methods, the economic feasibility of research in this area becomes more questionable.  To circumvent this dilemma, those within the field of personalized medicine will most certainly be looking for the same solutions as pharmaceutical companies.  Therefore, one of two results will likely occur, both of which may solve the issues of dosing regimen patentability facing the pharmaceutical companies.  One possibility is that the field of personalized medicine will be unable to economically sustain future research without patent protection and fully integrated healthcare will never become a reality; making this issue disappear for pharmaceutical companies.  The other, more likely, possibility is that in order for research in the field of personalized medicine to continue, those researchers will solve the very dilemma that pharmaceutical companies fear will be brought about by the emergence of integrated healthcare.  Either way, pharmaceutical companies’ dosing regimen patents are so closely tied to the fate of personalized medicine patents that the emergence of integrated healthcare most likely cannot occur in a manner that will be detrimental to pharmaceutical companies’ patent portfolio.


Nebraska: The State of Copyright

Amy Johns, MJLST Staffer

In this day and age, everyone should be aware of the truism that with great power, comes a great lobbying team. Nowhere has this been more evident in recent news than in the case of states that have tried to pass “right to repair” laws. Such a law has most recently been introduced in Nebraska as Legislative Bill 67. The purpose of the law is to require that manufacturers provide their service guides and other materials to the public, making third party repair services viable options for owners of all high-tech devices and allowing self-repair.

The campaign for this bill originated with farmers who wanted greater options to repair their high-tech farm equipment; in rural areas the accessibility of authorized repair shops is extremely limited and makes the cost of repairs much greater than for those in urban areas. Before submitting the bill, state senator Lydia Brasch relied on a December 2016 report from United States Copyright Office, which concluded that contract and consumer protection laws at the state level deal with these issues sufficiently, and that federal copyright issues are not going to preempt state laws in regards to right to repair.

The consequences of this bill extend much farther than just farm equipment, however. Similar bills have been introduced in eight states, and the result would be that manufacturers would lose control of repairing their devices; what independent repair shops see as a “monopoly” over device repair would be ended, as these companies would be required to release spare parts and information. Because of these far-reaching consequences, several companies have lobbied to kill this bill, most prominently Apple. These large companies’ main arguments are that hackers are going to have an easier time using this information to infringe on security and privacy, and also that it will weaken their intellectual property rights. Apple even offered to support the bill if the language excluded phones specifically from the included technology.

For the moment, this issue seems to be moot, as Nebraska’s law has stalled out under industry pressures. However, as these laws continue to arise in other states, this conflict will likely play out again. In particular, it’s worth noting that industries are not arguing that federal copyright law preempts state laws from interfering with copyright agreements on these devices. Rather, they are arguing against the practical implications of greater access to manuals and software information. While bringing up IP rights, these companies don’t use legal justification to argue that states should be prevented from passing these laws. The desirable outcomes of such laws are that consumers will pay less for the products that they need to use in their everyday lives; in response, Apple has claimed that their concern is states like Nebraska becoming a haven for hackers. These alarmist responses seem to be a smokescreen for the very obvious financial interest that Apple and other companies have in being the exclusive provider of repairs to their products. For people in areas where those repair services are hard to access, the consequences are serious, making repairs far more expensive than they would otherwise be. However, for these bills to be seriously considered, there needs to be greater clout on the side of these bills; as is, industry interests are going to outweigh consumer interests and kill these bills before they see the light of day.


Broadening the Ethical Concerns of Unauthorized Copyright and Rights of Publicity Usage: Do We Need More Acronyms?

Travis Waller, MJLST Managing Editor

In 2013, Prof. Micheal Murray of Valparaiso University School of Law published an article with MJLST entitled “DIOS MIO—The KISS Principle of the Ethical Approach to Copyright and Right of Publicity Law”. (For those of you unfamiliar with the acronyms, as I was previous to reviewing this article, DIOS MIO stands for “Don’t Include Other’s Stuff or Modify It Obviously”, just as KISS stands for “Keep it Simple, Stupid”). This article explored an ethical approach to using copyrighted material or celebrity likeness that has developed over the last decade due to several court cases merging certain qualities of the two regimes together.

The general principle embodied here is that current case law tends to allow for transformative uses of either a celebrity’s likeness or a copyrighted work – that is, a use of the image or work in a way that essentially provides a new or “transformative” take on the original. At the other extreme, the law generally allows individuals to use a celebrity’s likeness if the usage is not similar enough to the actual celebrity to be identifiable, or a copyrighted work if the element used is scenes a faire or a de minimis usage. Ergo, prudent advice to a would-be user of said material may, theoretically, be summed up as “seek first to create and not to copy or exploit, and create new expression by obvious modification of the old expression and content”, or DIOS MIO/KISS for the acronym savvy.

The reason I revisit this issue is not to advocate for this framework, but rather to illustrate just how unusual of bedfellows the regimes of copyright and “rights of publicity” are. As a matter of policy, in the United States, copyright is a federal regime dedicated to the utilitarian goals of “[p]romot[ing] the progress of science,” while rights of publicity laws are state level protections with roots going back to the Victorian era Warren & Brandies publication “The Right to Privacy” (and perhaps even further back). That is to say, the “right to publicity” is not typically thought of as a strictly utilitarian regime at all, and rather more as one dedicated to either the protection of an individual’s economic interests in their likeness (a labor argument), or a protection of that individual’s privacy (a privacy tort argument).

My point is, if, in theory, copyright is meant to “promote science”, while the right to publicity is intended to either protect an individual’s right to privacy, or their right to profit from their own image, is it appropriate to consider each regime under the age-old lens of “thou shalt not appropriate?” I tend to disagree.

Perhaps a more nuanced resolution to the ethical quandary would be for a would-be user of the image or work to consider the purpose of each regime, and to ask oneself if the usage of that work or image would offend the policy goals enshrined therein. That is, to endeavor on the enlightened path of determining whether, for copyright, if their usage of a work will add to the collective library of human understanding and progress, or whether the usage of that celebrity’s likeness will infringe upon that individual’s right to privacy, or unjustly deprive the individual of their ability to profit from their own well cultivated image.

Or maybe just ask permission.


Your Honor, That Guy “Subconsciously” Copied My Music!

Meibo Chen, MJLST Staffer

Under the Copyright Act, 17 USC § 106, a copyright owner of a copyrighted work has exclusive rights to reproduce, create derivative works, distribute, perform, or display that work.  The Copyright Act specifically carves out provisions that make it applicable to the music industry.  Thus, it is no surprise that the music industry frequently utilized the courts to protect its respective works.  While seemingly superfluous and redundant, such legal actions are justified as copyright infringement and piracy cost the US economy nearly $12.5 billion and more than 71,000 jobs yearly.

Copyright infringement, to the traditional public audience, simply would translate to: “that person downloaded my copyrighted music without my permission,” or “that person copied by song without my permission.”  Here is the kicker that the average consumer or musician most likely would not know.  There is such a thing called “subconscious copying” and “subconscious copyright infringement.” The illustrative case is George Harrison vs Bright Tunes Music Corp.  Long story short, the second musician wrote a song that very similar to that of the first musician’s, give or take a few notes and chords.  Even though the judge did not believe the second musician purposefully plagiarized, the second musician was nonetheless liable for a whopping $587,000.00 for subconscious plagiarism.

Flash forward to 2000, the 9th Circuit decided a similar case in Three Boys Music Corp. v. Michael Bolton, and put Learned Hand’s “subconscious copying” concept on the mantle.  More specifically, the 9th Circuit articulated the concept as requiring (1) a chain of events established between plaintiff’s work and defendant’s access to that work or (2) plaintiff’s work has been widely disseminated.

That boils down to an almost ridiculously broken cause of action for copyright infringement.  It is as if more famous musical works get more deference in an infringement case, just because more people heard it.  It also takes the objective standard and throws it out the window, as this “subconscious copying” forces a judge or jury to dive inside the mind of the alleged infringer.  To make it even more ridiculously broken, the fact-finder has to determine the SUBconscious.