In true Yale/college student form, I sat down on the couch in front of my laptop to write this blog post while snacking on a bag of salty crunchy potato-chip-like veggies. I attribute this approach to Yalies and the whole collegiate bunch for several reasons. First, I was lounging on a couch, wearing sweatpants. Second, I was on a dented, scratched, six-month-old laptop. Third, I was eating something vaguely resembling junkfood inbetween meals and spilling crumbs all over my keyboard. Fourth (most important and indicative of the signature Eli style and flair), I was inspired by the chip-clip I had put on the bag. I had received it at the beginning of the year, at some point between attending an anti-filesharing Harry Potter-themed propaganda movie screening and learning to work a washing machine. I hadn’t noticed the writing on it until just then, and began to wonder what would happen if I didn’t follow the kind suggestion supplied by my chip-clip. What if I did share files? Who’s fault would it be? I checked out the website, which instructed me to avoid p2p file-sharing. Apparently Yale is designated as an ISP under the DMCA, so they can take advantage of the legally provided safe harbors. Looks like I’d be the only one getting into trouble for illegally sharing copyrighted works…but then again, what about the means by which I shared those files? I’m not the most tech-savvy person out there–I don’t know any programming languages, I didn’t know that Mozilla Firefox had add-ons until last week, and I certainly wouldn’t be able to share files without the help of a user-friendly filesharing program. After some scouting around, I discovered secondary liability. Looks like I might be able to implicate an accomplice.
This is my bag of veggie straws (which are pretty good, if you ignore the fact that they’re rectangular tubes of unidentifiable veggie-like substance) and the thought-provoking chip clip in front of a poster in my suite.
Secondary liability is a high-stakes version of the blame game that I played in gradeschool, i.e. “I broke the cookiejar because my brother pushed me into it…but I knew the cookies would fall out if that happened.” Whichever way you try to parse out the blame, you still have the same end result: a herd of eight year olds scrambling through this open source on the classroom floor to nab a bite of chocolate chip or oatmeal raisin without permission. Very simply put, programs that allow users to swap files are the siblings of the digital realm. They provide the means by which millions of individuals worldwide are able to connect to each other over the internet and share what they have. In this case, the kid-to-kid treat sharing roughly translates into peer-to-peer filesharing. Continuing the metaphor, secondary liability would be the fifty lines of “I will not push other people or break any other classroom rules” that your teacher assigns to the guilty party who didn’t directly break the jar. Your teacher, the plaintiff, must then decide which kind of secondary liability she is calling the offense. There are two kinds of secondary liability as defined by the courts (not the Copyright Act): vicarious liability and contributory liability. Vicarious liability applies to superiors who take responsibility for the actions of those who they oversee. This instance would get you and your brother grounded for a week, because your mom would have an assignment for her parent-teacher conference. In the real world, this kind of liability also applies to employers who are culpable for the wrongdoings of their employees. Contributory liability lays blame on an individual who is aware of, facilitates, or helps the offensive action occur. This liability is linked to the larger body of tort law, which addresses how to get compensation for harmful actions that did not involve a contractual agreement. Contributory liability is commonly linked to the developers of software that can be used for filesharing, and would probably, in the cookiejar application, involve your brother working on his cursive.
The DMCA provides numerous safe havens for ISPs from liability charges, so they’re off the hook, provided that they comply with DMCA requirements. Software program creators, however, are in a different boat. They are not (as Viacom is arguing in its current case against YouTube) ISPs, and thus are not protected by the DMCA’s safe harbors.
Are the people responsible for file sharing software programs at risk for secondary liability blame for infringement when their product’s users share copyrighted files through their creation? So far, this seems to be a possibility. However, the recent proceedings in The Pirate Bay trial may set an international precedent. In this ongoing case, the International Federation of Phonographic Industries (basically the equivalent of a worldwide RIAA) is suing the Pirate Bay (a notorious international BitTorrent tracker based in Sweden) for copyright infringement. The Wired Threat Level Blog says that, during their courtroom questionings, Gottfrid Svartholm Warg and Fredrik Neij, two of the Pirate Bay defendants, “stuck to the story that the sole purpose of The Pirate Bay is to let internet users transmit whatever material they want.” Pirate Bay has a shot at winning (the plaintiffs have already dropped half of the charges), and if they do, it would place the blame on users for swapping files illegally. Previous cases involving filesharing software, such as Napster and Grokster, have been ruled against the online facilitators. However, the Pirate Bay is breaking new ground in its magnitude and international scope. I guess I’ll have to wait and see if I can partake in filesharing without being the only one who gets punished.
I think that it is preposterous to blame software providers for illegal actions taken by users of their software. There are numerous situations with other products where people can use legal means to achieve illegal ends, yet those means are still available on the market. For example, cars are readily available to anyone who wants to purchase one (or to anyone who will take one, in the case of mammoth SUVs in this economy), but can be used to illegally smuggle immigrants into the country. I realize that the example is quite exaggerated, but the point still stands. If I share files, I am the one sharing files. My internet service provider is providing internet, my filesharing program is facilitating filesharing, and I am the only one choosing which files to share. I know that this seems rather obvious and straightforward, but perhaps it’s the point that needs to be made. In filesharing, the people clicking “download” are the ones who make the conscious decision to violate copyright. If I choose to share files against the advice of my chip-clip, I shouldn’t have the software designers behind my computer programs dragged down with me.
Incidentally, if anybody wants to talk in depth about Yale’s policies on filesharing, I’d be happy to share what I know. I’ve talked to a lot of people about it, including several ITS staff members, and while I haven’t personally discussed the issue with Phil Long (CIO of the University), I’ve had conversations with several people who have. (He’s actually very reticent to discuss it, for good reasons.) I talked to a lot of people last year, both because of my interest in the issue and also because a good friend here at Yale was a victim of the RIAA’s legal campaign (in fact, the first documented victim at Yale).
I also will claim a degree of involvement with the chip clips (I was consulted, and said they were a bad idea), and had a prominent part in the Harry Potter movie (see if you can spot me!). I’ll try to get a copy of the files so I can show it to anyone in the class who’s interested.
Anti-filesharing chip clips? Weird, but creative. I wonder how much of this is a direct result of negotiations between Yale and industry groups like the RIAA and how much the university comes up with on its own?
Hah! The Harry Potter movie was beyond amusing. I think our class would enjoy it.
Why is Phil Long disinclined to talk about filesharing at Yale?
…do we know how many Yalies were prosecuted by the RIAA?
I believe (though I can’t say for sure) that my friend was the only one who actually had her case elevated to a lawsuit (it didn’t actually get that far; she just got the “pre-settlement” letter, at which point she caved). Phil Long doesn’t discuss it to protect himself; as long as he doesn’t know about any filesharing that’s happening, he’s not culpable.
Generally, the ITS high-ups view the entire argument as a nuisance. They just want to do their jobs, they don’t want to worry about all the legal garbage. It’s Yale’s legal people who started the campaign, because they’re ultra-risk-averse.