YouTube and illegal videos

[King_Louis_IX]

epiclotus, I think you are absolutely right. It is ludicrous. And does this not suggest that the morality of it all is not entirely cut and dry? Yes, we should obey just laws. But we also should be realistic and not lose sight of why we are asked to be law-abiding citizens. YouTube has become so integrated into our culture, as an instance of a broader technological phenomenon that is changing our society and its norms, that perhaps personal judgement calls are more relevant than one would think regarding videos that are technically illegal.

I think there are many instances in our daily lives where doing something technically illegal is not necessarily immoral at all. For example, _Abyssinia, I think it is perfectly ok to share music you have purchased with other family members, letting them burn your CD’s and whatnot. It is technically illegal, but clearly not immoral in my opinion, since the law is simply ridiculous in that scenario. Perhaps you could say that it is not what the “spirit of the law” intended to cover. Sharing with friends is less clear, maybe close friends would be ok, like giving a gift.

My main point: I think there are definitely personal judgement calls that come into play here regarding morality; strictly following the letter of the law in this case simply isn’t realistic. Agree? Disagree?

 

[_Abyssinia]

John Tehranian wrote an article that was published in the Utah Law Review. He takes a made up person named John, to show a person could copyright infringe:

…

In the morning, John checks his email, and, in so doing, begins to tally up the liability. Following common practice, he has set his mail browser to automatically reproduce the text to which he is responding in any email he drafts. Each unauthorized reproduction of someone else’s copyrighted text—their email—represents a separate act of brazen infringement, as does each instance of email forwarding. Within an hour, the twenty reply and forward emails sent by John have exposed him to $3 million in statutory damages.

After spending some time catching up on the latest news, John attends his Constitutional Law class, where he distributes copies of three just-published Internet articles presenting analyses of a Supreme Court decision handed down only hours ago. Unfortunately, despite his concern for his students’ edification, John has just engaged in the unauthorized reproduction of three literary works in violation of the Copyright Act.

Professor John then attends a faculty meeting that fails to capture his full attention. Doodling on his notepad provides an ideal escape. A fan of post-modern architecture, he finds himself thinking of Frank Gehry’s early sketches for the Bilbao Guggenheim as he draws a series of swirling lines that roughly approximate the design of the building. He has created an unauthorized derivative of a copyrighted architectural rendering.

Later that afternoon, John attends his Law and Literature class, where the focus of the day is on morality and duty. He has assigned e.e. cumming’s 1931 poem i sing of Olaf glad and big to the students. As a prelude to class discussion, he reads the poem in its entirety, thereby engaging in an unauthorized public performance of the copyrighted literary work.

Before leaving work, he remembers to email his family five photographs of the Utes football game he attended the previous Saturday. His friend had taken the photographs. And while she had given him the prints, ownership of the physical work and its underlying intellectual property are not tied together. Quite simply, the copyright to the photograph subsists in and remains with its author, John’s friend. As such, by copying, distributing, and publicly displaying the copyrighted photographs, John is once again piling up the infringements.

In the late afternoon, John takes his daily swim at the university pool. Before he jumps into the water, he discards his T-shirt, revealing a Captain Caveman tattoo on his right shoulder. Not only did he violate Hanna-Barbera’s copyright when he got the tattoo—after all, it is an unauthorized reproduction of a copyrighted work—he has now engaged in a unauthorized public display of the animated character. More ominously, the Copyright Act allows for the “impounding” and “destruction or other reasonable disposition” of any infringing work. Sporting the tattoo, John has become the infringing work. At best, therefore, he will have to undergo court-mandated laser tattoo removal. At worst, he faces imminent “destruction.”

That evening, John attends a restaurant dinner celebrating a friend’s birthday. At the end of the evening, he joins the other guests in singing “Happy Birthday.” The moment is captured on his cellphone camera. He has consequently infringed on the copyrighted musical composition by publicly performing the song and reproducing the song in the video recording without authorization. Additionally, his video footage captures not only his friend but clearly documents the art work hanging on the wall behind his friend—Wives with Knives—a print by renowned retro-themed painter Shag. John’s incidental and even accidental use of Wives with Knives in the video nevertheless constitutes an unauthorized reproduction of Shag’s work.

At the end of the day, John checks his mailbox, where he finds the latest issue of an artsy hipster rag to which he subscribes. The’zine, named Found, is a nationally distributed quarterly that collects and catalogues curious notes, drawings, and other items of interest that readers find lying in city streets, public transportation, and other random places. In short, John has purchased a magazine containing the unauthorized reproduction, distribution, and public display of fifty copyrighted notes and drawings. His knowing, material contribution to Found’s fifty acts of infringement subjects John to potential secondary liability in the amount of $7.5 million.

By the end of the day, John has infringed the copyrights of twenty emails, three legal articles, an architectural rendering, a poem, five photographs, an animated character, a musical composition, a painting, and fifty notes and drawings. All told, he has committed at least eighty-three acts of infringement and faces liability in the amount of $12.45 million (to say nothing of potential criminal charges). There is nothing particularly extraordinary about John’s activities. Yet if copyright holders were inclined to enforce their rights to the maximum extent allowed by law, barring last minute salvation from the notoriously ambiguous fair use defense, he would be liable for a mind-boggling $4.544 billion in potential damages each year. And, surprisingly, he has not even committed a single act of infringement through P2P file-sharing. Such an outcome flies in the face of our basic sense of justice. Indeed, one must either irrationally conclude that John is a criminal infringer—a veritable grand larcenist—or blithely surmise that copyright law must not mean what it appears to say. Something is clearly amiss. Moreover, the troublesome gap between copyright law and norms has grown only wider in recent years.

papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1029151

 

[_Abyssinia]

John Tehranian wrote an article that was published in the Utah Law Review. He takes a made up person named John, to show a person could copyright infringe:

…

In the morning, John checks his email, and, in so doing, begins to tally up the liability. Following common practice, he has set his mail browser to automatically reproduce the text to which he is responding in any email he drafts. Each unauthorized reproduction of someone else’s copyrighted text—their email—represents a separate act of brazen infringement, as does each instance of email forwarding. Within an hour, the twenty reply and forward emails sent by John have exposed him to $3 million in statutory damages.

After spending some time catching up on the latest news, John attends his Constitutional Law class, where he distributes copies of three just-published Internet articles presenting analyses of a Supreme Court decision handed down only hours ago. Unfortunately, despite his concern for his students’ edification, John has just engaged in the unauthorized reproduction of three literary works in violation of the Copyright Act.

Professor John then attends a faculty meeting that fails to capture his full attention. Doodling on his notepad provides an ideal escape. A fan of post-modern architecture, he finds himself thinking of Frank Gehry’s early sketches for the Bilbao Guggenheim as he draws a series of swirling lines that roughly approximate the design of the building. He has created an unauthorized derivative of a copyrighted architectural rendering.

Later that afternoon, John attends his Law and Literature class, where the focus of the day is on morality and duty. He has assigned e.e. cumming’s 1931 poem i sing of Olaf glad and big to the students. As a prelude to class discussion, he reads the poem in its entirety, thereby engaging in an unauthorized public performance of the copyrighted literary work.

Before leaving work, he remembers to email his family five photographs of the Utes football game he attended the previous Saturday. His friend had taken the photographs. And while she had given him the prints, ownership of the physical work and its underlying intellectual property are not tied together. Quite simply, the copyright to the photograph subsists in and remains with its author, John’s friend. As such, by copying, distributing, and publicly displaying the copyrighted photographs, John is once again piling up the infringements.

In the late afternoon, John takes his daily swim at the university pool. Before he jumps into the water, he discards his T-shirt, revealing a Captain Caveman tattoo on his right shoulder. Not only did he violate Hanna-Barbera’s copyright when he got the tattoo—after all, it is an unauthorized reproduction of a copyrighted work—he has now engaged in a unauthorized public display of the animated character. More ominously, the Copyright Act allows for the “impounding” and “destruction or other reasonable disposition” of any infringing work. Sporting the tattoo, John has become the infringing work. At best, therefore, he will have to undergo court-mandated laser tattoo removal. At worst, he faces imminent “destruction.”

That evening, John attends a restaurant dinner celebrating a friend’s birthday. At the end of the evening, he joins the other guests in singing “Happy Birthday.” The moment is captured on his cellphone camera. He has consequently infringed on the copyrighted musical composition by publicly performing the song and reproducing the song in the video recording without authorization. Additionally, his video footage captures not only his friend but clearly documents the art work hanging on the wall behind his friend—Wives with Knives—a print by renowned retro-themed painter Shag. John’s incidental and even accidental use of Wives with Knives in the video nevertheless constitutes an unauthorized reproduction of Shag’s work.

At the end of the day, John checks his mailbox, where he finds the latest issue of an artsy hipster rag to which he subscribes. The’zine, named Found, is a nationally distributed quarterly that collects and catalogues curious notes, drawings, and other items of interest that readers find lying in city streets, public transportation, and other random places. In short, John has purchased a magazine containing the unauthorized reproduction, distribution, and public display of fifty copyrighted notes and drawings. His knowing, material contribution to Found’s fifty acts of infringement subjects John to potential secondary liability in the amount of $7.5 million.

By the end of the day, John has infringed the copyrights of twenty emails, three legal articles, an architectural rendering, a poem, five photographs, an animated character, a musical composition, a painting, and fifty notes and drawings. All told, he has committed at least eighty-three acts of infringement and faces liability in the amount of $12.45 million (to say nothing of potential criminal charges). There is nothing particularly extraordinary about John’s activities. Yet if copyright holders were inclined to enforce their rights to the maximum extent allowed by law, barring last minute salvation from the notoriously ambiguous fair use defense, he would be liable for a mind-boggling $4.544 billion in potential damages each year. And, surprisingly, he has not even committed a single act of infringement through P2P file-sharing. Such an outcome flies in the face of our basic sense of justice. Indeed, one must either irrationally conclude that John is a criminal infringer—a veritable grand larcenist—or blithely surmise that copyright law must not mean what it appears to say. Something is clearly amiss. Moreover, the troublesome gap between copyright law and norms has grown only wider in recent years.

papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1029151

 

[_Abyssinia]

John Tehranian wrote an article that was published in the Utah Law Review. He takes a made up person named John, to show a person could copyright infringe:

…

In the morning, John checks his email, and, in so doing, begins to tally up the liability. Following common practice, he has set his mail browser to automatically reproduce the text to which he is responding in any email he drafts. Each unauthorized reproduction of someone else’s copyrighted text—their email—represents a separate act of brazen infringement, as does each instance of email forwarding. Within an hour, the twenty reply and forward emails sent by John have exposed him to $3 million in statutory damages.

After spending some time catching up on the latest news, John attends his Constitutional Law class, where he distributes copies of three just-published Internet articles presenting analyses of a Supreme Court decision handed down only hours ago. Unfortunately, despite his concern for his students’ edification, John has just engaged in the unauthorized reproduction of three literary works in violation of the Copyright Act.

Professor John then attends a faculty meeting that fails to capture his full attention. Doodling on his notepad provides an ideal escape. A fan of post-modern architecture, he finds himself thinking of Frank Gehry’s early sketches for the Bilbao Guggenheim as he draws a series of swirling lines that roughly approximate the design of the building. He has created an unauthorized derivative of a copyrighted architectural rendering.

Later that afternoon, John attends his Law and Literature class, where the focus of the day is on morality and duty. He has assigned e.e. cumming’s 1931 poem i sing of Olaf glad and big to the students. As a prelude to class discussion, he reads the poem in its entirety, thereby engaging in an unauthorized public performance of the copyrighted literary work.

Before leaving work, he remembers to email his family five photographs of the Utes football game he attended the previous Saturday. His friend had taken the photographs. And while she had given him the prints, ownership of the physical work and its underlying intellectual property are not tied together. Quite simply, the copyright to the photograph subsists in and remains with its author, John’s friend. As such, by copying, distributing, and publicly displaying the copyrighted photographs, John is once again piling up the infringements.

In the late afternoon, John takes his daily swim at the university pool. Before he jumps into the water, he discards his T-shirt, revealing a Captain Caveman tattoo on his right shoulder. Not only did he violate Hanna-Barbera’s copyright when he got the tattoo—after all, it is an unauthorized reproduction of a copyrighted work—he has now engaged in a unauthorized public display of the animated character. More ominously, the Copyright Act allows for the “impounding” and “destruction or other reasonable disposition” of any infringing work. Sporting the tattoo, John has become the infringing work. At best, therefore, he will have to undergo court-mandated laser tattoo removal. At worst, he faces imminent “destruction.”

That evening, John attends a restaurant dinner celebrating a friend’s birthday. At the end of the evening, he joins the other guests in singing “Happy Birthday.” The moment is captured on his cellphone camera. He has consequently infringed on the copyrighted musical composition by publicly performing the song and reproducing the song in the video recording without authorization. Additionally, his video footage captures not only his friend but clearly documents the art work hanging on the wall behind his friend—Wives with Knives—a print by renowned retro-themed painter Shag. John’s incidental and even accidental use of Wives with Knives in the video nevertheless constitutes an unauthorized reproduction of Shag’s work.

At the end of the day, John checks his mailbox, where he finds the latest issue of an artsy hipster rag to which he subscribes. The’zine, named Found, is a nationally distributed quarterly that collects and catalogues curious notes, drawings, and other items of interest that readers find lying in city streets, public transportation, and other random places. In short, John has purchased a magazine containing the unauthorized reproduction, distribution, and public display of fifty copyrighted notes and drawings. His knowing, material contribution to Found’s fifty acts of infringement subjects John to potential secondary liability in the amount of $7.5 million.

By the end of the day, John has infringed the copyrights of twenty emails, three legal articles, an architectural rendering, a poem, five photographs, an animated character, a musical composition, a painting, and fifty notes and drawings. All told, he has committed at least eighty-three acts of infringement and faces liability in the amount of $12.45 million (to say nothing of potential criminal charges). There is nothing particularly extraordinary about John’s activities. Yet if copyright holders were inclined to enforce their rights to the maximum extent allowed by law, barring last minute salvation from the notoriously ambiguous fair use defense, he would be liable for a mind-boggling $4.544 billion in potential damages each year. And, surprisingly, he has not even committed a single act of infringement through P2P file-sharing. Such an outcome flies in the face of our basic sense of justice. Indeed, one must either irrationally conclude that John is a criminal infringer—a veritable grand larcenist—or blithely surmise that copyright law must not mean what it appears to say. Something is clearly amiss. Moreover, the troublesome gap between copyright law and norms has grown only wider in recent years.

papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1029151

 

[_Abyssinia]

John Tehranian wrote an article that was published in the Utah Law Review. He takes a made up person named John, to show a person could copyright infringe:

…

In the morning, John checks his email, and, in so doing, begins to tally up the liability. Following common practice, he has set his mail browser to automatically reproduce the text to which he is responding in any email he drafts. Each unauthorized reproduction of someone else’s copyrighted text—their email—represents a separate act of brazen infringement, as does each instance of email forwarding. Within an hour, the twenty reply and forward emails sent by John have exposed him to $3 million in statutory damages.

After spending some time catching up on the latest news, John attends his Constitutional Law class, where he distributes copies of three just-published Internet articles presenting analyses of a Supreme Court decision handed down only hours ago. Unfortunately, despite his concern for his students’ edification, John has just engaged in the unauthorized reproduction of three literary works in violation of the Copyright Act.

Professor John then attends a faculty meeting that fails to capture his full attention. Doodling on his notepad provides an ideal escape. A fan of post-modern architecture, he finds himself thinking of Frank Gehry’s early sketches for the Bilbao Guggenheim as he draws a series of swirling lines that roughly approximate the design of the building. He has created an unauthorized derivative of a copyrighted architectural rendering.

Later that afternoon, John attends his Law and Literature class, where the focus of the day is on morality and duty. He has assigned e.e. cumming’s 1931 poem i sing of Olaf glad and big to the students. As a prelude to class discussion, he reads the poem in its entirety, thereby engaging in an unauthorized public performance of the copyrighted literary work.

Before leaving work, he remembers to email his family five photographs of the Utes football game he attended the previous Saturday. His friend had taken the photographs. And while she had given him the prints, ownership of the physical work and its underlying intellectual property are not tied together. Quite simply, the copyright to the photograph subsists in and remains with its author, John’s friend. As such, by copying, distributing, and publicly displaying the copyrighted photographs, John is once again piling up the infringements.

In the late afternoon, John takes his daily swim at the university pool. Before he jumps into the water, he discards his T-shirt, revealing a Captain Caveman tattoo on his right shoulder. Not only did he violate Hanna-Barbera’s copyright when he got the tattoo—after all, it is an unauthorized reproduction of a copyrighted work—he has now engaged in a unauthorized public display of the animated character. More ominously, the Copyright Act allows for the “impounding” and “destruction or other reasonable disposition” of any infringing work. Sporting the tattoo, John has become the infringing work. At best, therefore, he will have to undergo court-mandated laser tattoo removal. At worst, he faces imminent “destruction.”

That evening, John attends a restaurant dinner celebrating a friend’s birthday. At the end of the evening, he joins the other guests in singing “Happy Birthday.” The moment is captured on his cellphone camera. He has consequently infringed on the copyrighted musical composition by publicly performing the song and reproducing the song in the video recording without authorization. Additionally, his video footage captures not only his friend but clearly documents the art work hanging on the wall behind his friend—Wives with Knives—a print by renowned retro-themed painter Shag. John’s incidental and even accidental use of Wives with Knives in the video nevertheless constitutes an unauthorized reproduction of Shag’s work.

At the end of the day, John checks his mailbox, where he finds the latest issue of an artsy hipster rag to which he subscribes. The’zine, named Found, is a nationally distributed quarterly that collects and catalogues curious notes, drawings, and other items of interest that readers find lying in city streets, public transportation, and other random places. In short, John has purchased a magazine containing the unauthorized reproduction, distribution, and public display of fifty copyrighted notes and drawings. His knowing, material contribution to Found’s fifty acts of infringement subjects John to potential secondary liability in the amount of $7.5 million.

By the end of the day, John has infringed the copyrights of twenty emails, three legal articles, an architectural rendering, a poem, five photographs, an animated character, a musical composition, a painting, and fifty notes and drawings. All told, he has committed at least eighty-three acts of infringement and faces liability in the amount of $12.45 million (to say nothing of potential criminal charges). There is nothing particularly extraordinary about John’s activities. Yet if copyright holders were inclined to enforce their rights to the maximum extent allowed by law, barring last minute salvation from the notoriously ambiguous fair use defense, he would be liable for a mind-boggling $4.544 billion in potential damages each year. And, surprisingly, he has not even committed a single act of infringement through P2P file-sharing. Such an outcome flies in the face of our basic sense of justice. Indeed, one must either irrationally conclude that John is a criminal infringer—a veritable grand larcenist—or blithely surmise that copyright law must not mean what it appears to say. Something is clearly amiss. Moreover, the troublesome gap between copyright law and norms has grown only wider in recent years.

papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1029151

 

[_Abyssinia]

John Tehranian wrote an article that was published in the Utah Law Review. He takes a made up person named John, to show a person could copyright infringe:

…

In the morning, John checks his email, and, in so doing, begins to tally up the liability. Following common practice, he has set his mail browser to automatically reproduce the text to which he is responding in any email he drafts. Each unauthorized reproduction of someone else’s copyrighted text—their email—represents a separate act of brazen infringement, as does each instance of email forwarding. Within an hour, the twenty reply and forward emails sent by John have exposed him to $3 million in statutory damages.

After spending some time catching up on the latest news, John attends his Constitutional Law class, where he distributes copies of three just-published Internet articles presenting analyses of a Supreme Court decision handed down only hours ago. Unfortunately, despite his concern for his students’ edification, John has just engaged in the unauthorized reproduction of three literary works in violation of the Copyright Act.

Professor John then attends a faculty meeting that fails to capture his full attention. Doodling on his notepad provides an ideal escape. A fan of post-modern architecture, he finds himself thinking of Frank Gehry’s early sketches for the Bilbao Guggenheim as he draws a series of swirling lines that roughly approximate the design of the building. He has created an unauthorized derivative of a copyrighted architectural rendering.

Later that afternoon, John attends his Law and Literature class, where the focus of the day is on morality and duty. He has assigned e.e. cumming’s 1931 poem i sing of Olaf glad and big to the students. As a prelude to class discussion, he reads the poem in its entirety, thereby engaging in an unauthorized public performance of the copyrighted literary work.

Before leaving work, he remembers to email his family five photographs of the Utes football game he attended the previous Saturday. His friend had taken the photographs. And while she had given him the prints, ownership of the physical work and its underlying intellectual property are not tied together. Quite simply, the copyright to the photograph subsists in and remains with its author, John’s friend. As such, by copying, distributing, and publicly displaying the copyrighted photographs, John is once again piling up the infringements.

In the late afternoon, John takes his daily swim at the university pool. Before he jumps into the water, he discards his T-shirt, revealing a Captain Caveman tattoo on his right shoulder. Not only did he violate Hanna-Barbera’s copyright when he got the tattoo—after all, it is an unauthorized reproduction of a copyrighted work—he has now engaged in a unauthorized public display of the animated character. More ominously, the Copyright Act allows for the “impounding” and “destruction or other reasonable disposition” of any infringing work. Sporting the tattoo, John has become the infringing work. At best, therefore, he will have to undergo court-mandated laser tattoo removal. At worst, he faces imminent “destruction.”

That evening, John attends a restaurant dinner celebrating a friend’s birthday. At the end of the evening, he joins the other guests in singing “Happy Birthday.” The moment is captured on his cellphone camera. He has consequently infringed on the copyrighted musical composition by publicly performing the song and reproducing the song in the video recording without authorization. Additionally, his video footage captures not only his friend but clearly documents the art work hanging on the wall behind his friend—Wives with Knives—a print by renowned retro-themed painter Shag. John’s incidental and even accidental use of Wives with Knives in the video nevertheless constitutes an unauthorized reproduction of Shag’s work.

At the end of the day, John checks his mailbox, where he finds the latest issue of an artsy hipster rag to which he subscribes. The’zine, named Found, is a nationally distributed quarterly that collects and catalogues curious notes, drawings, and other items of interest that readers find lying in city streets, public transportation, and other random places. In short, John has purchased a magazine containing the unauthorized reproduction, distribution, and public display of fifty copyrighted notes and drawings. His knowing, material contribution to Found’s fifty acts of infringement subjects John to potential secondary liability in the amount of $7.5 million.

By the end of the day, John has infringed the copyrights of twenty emails, three legal articles, an architectural rendering, a poem, five photographs, an animated character, a musical composition, a painting, and fifty notes and drawings. All told, he has committed at least eighty-three acts of infringement and faces liability in the amount of $12.45 million (to say nothing of potential criminal charges). There is nothing particularly extraordinary about John’s activities. Yet if copyright holders were inclined to enforce their rights to the maximum extent allowed by law, barring last minute salvation from the notoriously ambiguous fair use defense, he would be liable for a mind-boggling $4.544 billion in potential damages each year. And, surprisingly, he has not even committed a single act of infringement through P2P file-sharing. Such an outcome flies in the face of our basic sense of justice. Indeed, one must either irrationally conclude that John is a criminal infringer—a veritable grand larcenist—or blithely surmise that copyright law must not mean what it appears to say. Something is clearly amiss. Moreover, the troublesome gap between copyright law and norms has grown only wider in recent years.

papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1029151

 

[_Abyssinia]

John Tehranian wrote an article that was published in the Utah Law Review. He takes a made up person named John, to show a person could copyright infringe:

…

In the morning, John checks his email, and, in so doing, begins to tally up the liability. Following common practice, he has set his mail browser to automatically reproduce the text to which he is responding in any email he drafts. Each unauthorized reproduction of someone else’s copyrighted text—their email—represents a separate act of brazen infringement, as does each instance of email forwarding. Within an hour, the twenty reply and forward emails sent by John have exposed him to $3 million in statutory damages.

After spending some time catching up on the latest news, John attends his Constitutional Law class, where he distributes copies of three just-published Internet articles presenting analyses of a Supreme Court decision handed down only hours ago. Unfortunately, despite his concern for his students’ edification, John has just engaged in the unauthorized reproduction of three literary works in violation of the Copyright Act.

Professor John then attends a faculty meeting that fails to capture his full attention. Doodling on his notepad provides an ideal escape. A fan of post-modern architecture, he finds himself thinking of Frank Gehry’s early sketches for the Bilbao Guggenheim as he draws a series of swirling lines that roughly approximate the design of the building. He has created an unauthorized derivative of a copyrighted architectural rendering.

Later that afternoon, John attends his Law and Literature class, where the focus of the day is on morality and duty. He has assigned e.e. cumming’s 1931 poem i sing of Olaf glad and big to the students. As a prelude to class discussion, he reads the poem in its entirety, thereby engaging in an unauthorized public performance of the copyrighted literary work.

Before leaving work, he remembers to email his family five photographs of the Utes football game he attended the previous Saturday. His friend had taken the photographs. And while she had given him the prints, ownership of the physical work and its underlying intellectual property are not tied together. Quite simply, the copyright to the photograph subsists in and remains with its author, John’s friend. As such, by copying, distributing, and publicly displaying the copyrighted photographs, John is once again piling up the infringements.

In the late afternoon, John takes his daily swim at the university pool. Before he jumps into the water, he discards his T-shirt, revealing a Captain Caveman tattoo on his right shoulder. Not only did he violate Hanna-Barbera’s copyright when he got the tattoo—after all, it is an unauthorized reproduction of a copyrighted work—he has now engaged in a unauthorized public display of the animated character. More ominously, the Copyright Act allows for the “impounding” and “destruction or other reasonable disposition” of any infringing work. Sporting the tattoo, John has become the infringing work. At best, therefore, he will have to undergo court-mandated laser tattoo removal. At worst, he faces imminent “destruction.”

That evening, John attends a restaurant dinner celebrating a friend’s birthday. At the end of the evening, he joins the other guests in singing “Happy Birthday.” The moment is captured on his cellphone camera. He has consequently infringed on the copyrighted musical composition by publicly performing the song and reproducing the song in the video recording without authorization. Additionally, his video footage captures not only his friend but clearly documents the art work hanging on the wall behind his friend—Wives with Knives—a print by renowned retro-themed painter Shag. John’s incidental and even accidental use of Wives with Knives in the video nevertheless constitutes an unauthorized reproduction of Shag’s work.

At the end of the day, John checks his mailbox, where he finds the latest issue of an artsy hipster rag to which he subscribes. The’zine, named Found, is a nationally distributed quarterly that collects and catalogues curious notes, drawings, and other items of interest that readers find lying in city streets, public transportation, and other random places. In short, John has purchased a magazine containing the unauthorized reproduction, distribution, and public display of fifty copyrighted notes and drawings. His knowing, material contribution to Found’s fifty acts of infringement subjects John to potential secondary liability in the amount of $7.5 million.

By the end of the day, John has infringed the copyrights of twenty emails, three legal articles, an architectural rendering, a poem, five photographs, an animated character, a musical composition, a painting, and fifty notes and drawings. All told, he has committed at least eighty-three acts of infringement and faces liability in the amount of $12.45 million (to say nothing of potential criminal charges). There is nothing particularly extraordinary about John’s activities. Yet if copyright holders were inclined to enforce their rights to the maximum extent allowed by law, barring last minute salvation from the notoriously ambiguous fair use defense, he would be liable for a mind-boggling $4.544 billion in potential damages each year. And, surprisingly, he has not even committed a single act of infringement through P2P file-sharing. Such an outcome flies in the face of our basic sense of justice. Indeed, one must either irrationally conclude that John is a criminal infringer—a veritable grand larcenist—or blithely surmise that copyright law must not mean what it appears to say. Something is clearly amiss. Moreover, the troublesome gap between copyright law and norms has grown only wider in recent years.

papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1029151

 

[_Abyssinia]

John Tehranian wrote an article that was published in the Utah Law Review. He takes a made up person named John, to show a person could copyright infringe:

…

In the morning, John checks his email, and, in so doing, begins to tally up the liability. Following common practice, he has set his mail browser to automatically reproduce the text to which he is responding in any email he drafts. Each unauthorized reproduction of someone else’s copyrighted text—their email—represents a separate act of brazen infringement, as does each instance of email forwarding. Within an hour, the twenty reply and forward emails sent by John have exposed him to $3 million in statutory damages.

After spending some time catching up on the latest news, John attends his Constitutional Law class, where he distributes copies of three just-published Internet articles presenting analyses of a Supreme Court decision handed down only hours ago. Unfortunately, despite his concern for his students’ edification, John has just engaged in the unauthorized reproduction of three literary works in violation of the Copyright Act.

Professor John then attends a faculty meeting that fails to capture his full attention. Doodling on his notepad provides an ideal escape. A fan of post-modern architecture, he finds himself thinking of Frank Gehry’s early sketches for the Bilbao Guggenheim as he draws a series of swirling lines that roughly approximate the design of the building. He has created an unauthorized derivative of a copyrighted architectural rendering.

Later that afternoon, John attends his Law and Literature class, where the focus of the day is on morality and duty. He has assigned e.e. cumming’s 1931 poem i sing of Olaf glad and big to the students. As a prelude to class discussion, he reads the poem in its entirety, thereby engaging in an unauthorized public performance of the copyrighted literary work.

Before leaving work, he remembers to email his family five photographs of the Utes football game he attended the previous Saturday. His friend had taken the photographs. And while she had given him the prints, ownership of the physical work and its underlying intellectual property are not tied together. Quite simply, the copyright to the photograph subsists in and remains with its author, John’s friend. As such, by copying, distributing, and publicly displaying the copyrighted photographs, John is once again piling up the infringements.

In the late afternoon, John takes his daily swim at the university pool. Before he jumps into the water, he discards his T-shirt, revealing a Captain Caveman tattoo on his right shoulder. Not only did he violate Hanna-Barbera’s copyright when he got the tattoo—after all, it is an unauthorized reproduction of a copyrighted work—he has now engaged in a unauthorized public display of the animated character. More ominously, the Copyright Act allows for the “impounding” and “destruction or other reasonable disposition” of any infringing work. Sporting the tattoo, John has become the infringing work. At best, therefore, he will have to undergo court-mandated laser tattoo removal. At worst, he faces imminent “destruction.”

That evening, John attends a restaurant dinner celebrating a friend’s birthday. At the end of the evening, he joins the other guests in singing “Happy Birthday.” The moment is captured on his cellphone camera. He has consequently infringed on the copyrighted musical composition by publicly performing the song and reproducing the song in the video recording without authorization. Additionally, his video footage captures not only his friend but clearly documents the art work hanging on the wall behind his friend—Wives with Knives—a print by renowned retro-themed painter Shag. John’s incidental and even accidental use of Wives with Knives in the video nevertheless constitutes an unauthorized reproduction of Shag’s work.

At the end of the day, John checks his mailbox, where he finds the latest issue of an artsy hipster rag to which he subscribes. The’zine, named Found, is a nationally distributed quarterly that collects and catalogues curious notes, drawings, and other items of interest that readers find lying in city streets, public transportation, and other random places. In short, John has purchased a magazine containing the unauthorized reproduction, distribution, and public display of fifty copyrighted notes and drawings. His knowing, material contribution to Found’s fifty acts of infringement subjects John to potential secondary liability in the amount of $7.5 million.

By the end of the day, John has infringed the copyrights of twenty emails, three legal articles, an architectural rendering, a poem, five photographs, an animated character, a musical composition, a painting, and fifty notes and drawings. All told, he has committed at least eighty-three acts of infringement and faces liability in the amount of $12.45 million (to say nothing of potential criminal charges). There is nothing particularly extraordinary about John’s activities. Yet if copyright holders were inclined to enforce their rights to the maximum extent allowed by law, barring last minute salvation from the notoriously ambiguous fair use defense, he would be liable for a mind-boggling $4.544 billion in potential damages each year. And, surprisingly, he has not even committed a single act of infringement through P2P file-sharing. Such an outcome flies in the face of our basic sense of justice. Indeed, one must either irrationally conclude that John is a criminal infringer—a veritable grand larcenist—or blithely surmise that copyright law must not mean what it appears to say. Something is clearly amiss. Moreover, the troublesome gap between copyright law and norms has grown only wider in recent years.

papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1029151

 

[_Abyssinia]

John Tehranian wrote an article that was published in the Utah Law Review. He takes a made up person named John, to show a person could copyright infringe:

…

In the morning, John checks his email, and, in so doing, begins to tally up the liability. Following common practice, he has set his mail browser to automatically reproduce the text to which he is responding in any email he drafts. Each unauthorized reproduction of someone else’s copyrighted text—their email—represents a separate act of brazen infringement, as does each instance of email forwarding. Within an hour, the twenty reply and forward emails sent by John have exposed him to $3 million in statutory damages.

After spending some time catching up on the latest news, John attends his Constitutional Law class, where he distributes copies of three just-published Internet articles presenting analyses of a Supreme Court decision handed down only hours ago. Unfortunately, despite his concern for his students’ edification, John has just engaged in the unauthorized reproduction of three literary works in violation of the Copyright Act.

Professor John then attends a faculty meeting that fails to capture his full attention. Doodling on his notepad provides an ideal escape. A fan of post-modern architecture, he finds himself thinking of Frank Gehry’s early sketches for the Bilbao Guggenheim as he draws a series of swirling lines that roughly approximate the design of the building. He has created an unauthorized derivative of a copyrighted architectural rendering.

Later that afternoon, John attends his Law and Literature class, where the focus of the day is on morality and duty. He has assigned e.e. cumming’s 1931 poem i sing of Olaf glad and big to the students. As a prelude to class discussion, he reads the poem in its entirety, thereby engaging in an unauthorized public performance of the copyrighted literary work.

Before leaving work, he remembers to email his family five photographs of the Utes football game he attended the previous Saturday. His friend had taken the photographs. And while she had given him the prints, ownership of the physical work and its underlying intellectual property are not tied together. Quite simply, the copyright to the photograph subsists in and remains with its author, John’s friend. As such, by copying, distributing, and publicly displaying the copyrighted photographs, John is once again piling up the infringements.

In the late afternoon, John takes his daily swim at the university pool. Before he jumps into the water, he discards his T-shirt, revealing a Captain Caveman tattoo on his right shoulder. Not only did he violate Hanna-Barbera’s copyright when he got the tattoo—after all, it is an unauthorized reproduction of a copyrighted work—he has now engaged in a unauthorized public display of the animated character. More ominously, the Copyright Act allows for the “impounding” and “destruction or other reasonable disposition” of any infringing work. Sporting the tattoo, John has become the infringing work. At best, therefore, he will have to undergo court-mandated laser tattoo removal. At worst, he faces imminent “destruction.”

That evening, John attends a restaurant dinner celebrating a friend’s birthday. At the end of the evening, he joins the other guests in singing “Happy Birthday.” The moment is captured on his cellphone camera. He has consequently infringed on the copyrighted musical composition by publicly performing the song and reproducing the song in the video recording without authorization. Additionally, his video footage captures not only his friend but clearly documents the art work hanging on the wall behind his friend—Wives with Knives—a print by renowned retro-themed painter Shag. John’s incidental and even accidental use of Wives with Knives in the video nevertheless constitutes an unauthorized reproduction of Shag’s work.

At the end of the day, John checks his mailbox, where he finds the latest issue of an artsy hipster rag to which he subscribes. The’zine, named Found, is a nationally distributed quarterly that collects and catalogues curious notes, drawings, and other items of interest that readers find lying in city streets, public transportation, and other random places. In short, John has purchased a magazine containing the unauthorized reproduction, distribution, and public display of fifty copyrighted notes and drawings. His knowing, material contribution to Found’s fifty acts of infringement subjects John to potential secondary liability in the amount of $7.5 million.

By the end of the day, John has infringed the copyrights of twenty emails, three legal articles, an architectural rendering, a poem, five photographs, an animated character, a musical composition, a painting, and fifty notes and drawings. All told, he has committed at least eighty-three acts of infringement and faces liability in the amount of $12.45 million (to say nothing of potential criminal charges). There is nothing particularly extraordinary about John’s activities. Yet if copyright holders were inclined to enforce their rights to the maximum extent allowed by law, barring last minute salvation from the notoriously ambiguous fair use defense, he would be liable for a mind-boggling $4.544 billion in potential damages each year. And, surprisingly, he has not even committed a single act of infringement through P2P file-sharing. Such an outcome flies in the face of our basic sense of justice. Indeed, one must either irrationally conclude that John is a criminal infringer—a veritable grand larcenist—or blithely surmise that copyright law must not mean what it appears to say. Something is clearly amiss. Moreover, the troublesome gap between copyright law and norms has grown only wider in recent years.

papers.ssrn.com/sol3/papers.cfm?abstract_id=1029151

 

[edwest2]

Perhaps a hurried choice of words wasn’t the best. Oppressive might be the wrong term to use.

What I mean is that I think we should follow the laws because they are the laws, and there is nothing immoral in the way the laws work. That said, while I do agree with the principle of copyright and trademark, I do not agree with the way it has been written into law, nor how the enforcement and violations of it are handled. I honestly couldn’t tell you what would be a reasonable alternative, but copyright lasting 70 years past the death of a creator or 120 years for a company is just mind-blowing to me. The entire concept of the public domain has been almost completely obliterated, and I think our society is the poorer for it. The way our society functions has been fundamentally changed with the advent of the internet, and continues to evolve in such a rapid way, that public works are almost entirely useless to the “modern” citizen because they are the stuff of academia by the time they are validly serviceable by the populace.

On top of that, there is a clear lack of Personal Use laws in place. Rather than Congress defining what constitutes personal use in a general way, we have to wait for the Librarian of Congress to make a ruling every three years (an eternity in this technological age) on what constitutes valid Personal Use in specific instances. Either that, or we have to wait on the rulings of court cases, which tend to be so narrowly focused as to not give any sense of direction regarding future issues. The whole system is a mess for the average citizen to navigate, and that’s really antithetical to the whole concept of lawmaking in the first place. How can a citizen know what to follow if he can barely understand the text of a law in the first place, let alone how it applies to his/her own life. It’s pretty ludicrous.

As someone who works with the finest copyright attorneys, a few comments.

1. Public Domain has no use whatsoever. For example, we come up with story concepts of our own all the time. Since I specialize in science fiction themes, I come up with new names, new aliens, new technology, etc, all the time. Look at the naming conventions George Lucas devised. Prior to Star Wars, Obi-Wan Kenobi? Darth Vader?

Or what about zombies? George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead is not dead as far as copyright goes but there they are again on TV, in World War Z and in comic books.

To give you a different perspective. Is the technology you own 10 years old, five years old, three years old? NO! It didn’t even exist, in some cases, until recently. For example, the tablet devices.

I am 100% convinced that cries for public domain are primarily from those who are too lazy to come up with their own ideas.

1. Copyright for the average person is difficult? Ask me and I’ll provide the relevant links direct from the US Copyright Office or failing that, call them:
   (202) 707-3000 or 1-877-476-0778 (toll free).

They are very nice.

Peace,
Ed

 

[epiclotus]

As someone who works with the finest copyright attorneys, a few comments.

1. Public Domain has no use whatsoever. For example, we come up with story concepts of our own all the time. Since I specialize in science fiction themes, I come up with new names, new aliens, new technology, etc, all the time. Look at the naming conventions George Lucas devised. Prior to Star Wars, Obi-Wan Kenobi? Darth Vader?

Or what about zombies? George Romero’s Night of the Living Dead is not dead as far as copyright goes but there they are again on TV, in World War Z and in comic books.

To give you a different perspective. Is the technology you own 10 years old, five years old, three years old? NO! It didn’t even exist, in some cases, until recently. For example, the tablet devices.

I am 100% convinced that cries for public domain are primarily from those who are too lazy to come up with their own ideas.

1. Copyright for the average person is difficult? Ask me and I’ll provide the relevant links direct from the US Copyright Office or failing that, call them:
   (202) 707-3000 or 1-877-476-0778 (toll free).

They are very nice.

Peace,
Ed

I suggest that you refer to the link posted above by _Abyssinia to understand what I mean when I say the whole system is a mess. Although the given quote is sufficient for illustration to this topic, the entire article is quite engaging. Some of the examples provided are a bit of a legal stretch, though. When it comes to moral grounds (which is the essence of what we are discussing), a reasonable person would see no intent on the part of the individual to infringe the copyright of others, and thus there is unlikely to be much moral culpability. This doesn’t apply to Youtube, though, as the simple and reasonable question of, “Does this person own the video they uploaded?” will often receive an answer of no. If they don’t own it, it would be stealing to give it away to the ethers of the internet.

I have spent a fair amount of time reading not only the Copyright Office website, but various laws like the DMCA. Let me be straight: an average, reasonable citizen would be unable to understand even the language of most of copyright law, let alone be able to interpret it for use in their own lives. That said, I think we’re bordering on divergence into a different topic altogether with this line of dialogue.

I do take umbrage to the suggestion that cries for public domain are from those too lazy to come up with their own ideas. Public domain is far more about the appreciation of our cultural heritage than it is about borrowing ideas for new monetary gain. As an example, there is significant concern regarding the preservation of cinematic and audio works from the early 20th century that are in legal limbo because their copyrights are still bound, but the elements containing those works are degrading faster than the law allows them to be copied. Additionally, there is a wealth of social capital that is now the sole domain of organizations rather than the people, and there are companies that specifically prey on the legal ambiguities of many copyrighted works for their own gain. Take a look at the issues regarding old-time radio, and you’ll see what I mean.

This all goes toward what I suggested in the first place. There need be Personal Use laws in place that clear the average citizen of both ethical and legal infringement.

Also, tablets were conceived in 1987. Just watch any episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation .

 

[edwest2]

I’m well aware that old movies, sound recordings and other works are degrading. There are people with the money to restore or transfer them to other media as Disney has done. Nothing will be solved here.

Peace,
Ed

 

[epiclotus]

You appear to have a slightly flippant attitude toward people that struggle with this by saying that “Nothing will be solved here.” Yes, there are companies with the money and tech to solve these issues, but the fact that films and phonorecords continue to rot would suggest they do not have public interest in mind.

The question we’re dealing with here, though, isn’t really whether the copyright system is flawed or understandable. It is, what is the moral culpability of someone who breaks it? If we truly are, as that article suggests, a society that revolves around the violation of law, what is our responsibility as Catholics? What is our duty when the letter of the law is, upon further reflection, truly oppressive? Do we choose to ignore the technology that permits such easy misuse, or live in constant vigilance of violation?

 

[King_Louis_IX]

The question we’re dealing with here, though, isn’t really whether the copyright system is flawed or understandable. It is, what is the moral culpability of someone who breaks it? If we truly are, as that article suggests, a society that revolves around the violation of law, what is our responsibility as Catholics? What is our duty when the letter of the law is, upon further reflection, truly oppressive? Do we choose to ignore the technology that permits such easy misuse, or live in constant vigilance of violation?

I think the answer lies somewhere between ignoring and maintaining constant vigilance. We certainly must not be careless about it, and we must not dismiss stealing, no matter how small it might be. But we must also not become Pharisees about the whole thing. If it helps, here is what I think I will do:

I will cut back on my use of YouTube, but I won’t go around policing others who do use it. If a friend emails me a YouTube video and wants me to see it, I’ll watch it. But I will not go browsing around watching this and that when I am bored.

Since we are both frustrated for answers, I think the realistic truth is that we need to make a judgement call each time we are confronted with YouTube. And when we need to make a judgement, we must remember that God is not out to get us and that we should not worry about it too much. Say a Hail Mary and do your best!

 

[edwest2]

You appear to have a slightly flippant attitude toward people that struggle with this by saying that “Nothing will be solved here.” Yes, there are companies with the money and tech to solve these issues, but the fact that films and phonorecords continue to rot would suggest they do not have public interest in mind.

The question we’re dealing with here, though, isn’t really whether the copyright system is flawed or understandable. It is, what is the moral culpability of someone who breaks it? If we truly are, as that article suggests, a society that revolves around the violation of law, what is our responsibility as Catholics? What is our duty when the letter of the law is, upon further reflection, truly oppressive? Do we choose to ignore the technology that permits such easy misuse, or live in constant vigilance of violation?

Oppressive - love that word. What do you propose? You steal something and that’s a sin. Simple.

Your comments do not encourage me to believe that anything oppressive is going on. For example, I have access to reports filled with tons of information that could benefit my company, but I don’t have them. Why? They cost thousands of dollars.

As a student of history, I now have access to a ton of information. That does not give me the right to take it without paying for it. Or perhaps you can contact whoever you think is oppressing everybody and repeat what you’ve written here.

Vagueness never convinces me of anything.

Peace,
Ed

 

[King_Louis_IX]

Ed, I think you are missing epiclotus’ point. Correct me if I am wrong, epiclotus:

By ‘oppressive’ he means that the law, if taken strictly, is outdated, impractical, and simply inadequate for the realities of the technological world we live in today. We all agree that stealing is the form of action which is technically breaking the laws that we are discussing, but we are not sure about whether it is immoral stealing, if I may put it that way.

I can say that with a straight face because it is a type of situation which happens all the time in our daily lives. We are not infrequently doing something which is technically against the law in some regard. Driving one or two miles over the speed limit is a good example. I hope you don’t think that is sinful, otherwise we might need to start another thread just to discuss that.

Your talk about accessing information is irrelevant to this discussion. The whole point is that the YouTubing activities, which we agreed a long time ago are breaking the law, might not always be immoral activities in which to partake. This is what we are trying to investigate, with your help!

 

[epiclotus]

Ed, there is condescension in your tone, and that is not appropriate.

I previously suggested that you refer to the article posted above which listed many specific scenarios in which “theft” occurs solely based on the vagueness of our laws. You have yet to respond to any of them.

 

[epiclotus]

Ed, I think you are missing epiclotus’ point. Correct me if I am wrong, epiclotus:

By ‘oppressive’ he means that the law, if taken strictly, is outdated, impractical, and simply inadequate for the realities of the technological world we live in today. We all agree that stealing is the form of action which is technically breaking the laws that we are discussing, but we are not sure about whether it is immoral stealing, if I may put it that way.

I can say that with a straight face because it is a type of situation which happens all the time in our daily lives. We are not infrequently doing something which is technically against the law in some regard. Driving one or two miles over the speed limit is a good example. I hope you don’t think that is sinful, otherwise we might need to start another thread just to discuss that.

Your talk about accessing information is irrelevant to this discussion. The whole point is that the YouTubing activities, which we agreed a long time ago are breaking the law, might not always be immoral activities in which to partake. This is what we are trying to investigate, with your help!

Yes, you are fairly correct in summation. I think if you have reason to believe a Youtube video is illegally uploaded, it would be wrong to watch it. What I think we haven’t determined is what the moral principle is when navigating an antiquated legal system that simply does not address many of the situations we find ourselves in today.

A specific example, as Ed requests:

Take the birthday example. You are at a birthday gathering at a restaurant, and several people take up the song Happy Birthday. Should you join in, you would be breaking the law by violating Title 17 UCC § 106 (4), which grants the owner of Happy Birthday the exclusive right of public performance. Technically, you could face statutory damages that are a minimum of $200, with the fine climbing as high as $2500 if the court determines you knowingly infringed the work.

So, if you are breaking the law in this way, are you also sinning? Is singing Happy Birthday to a friend, family, or co-worker in a public place a sin?

 

[edwest2]

Ed, I think you are missing epiclotus’ point. Correct me if I am wrong, epiclotus:

By ‘oppressive’ he means that the law, if taken strictly, is outdated, impractical, and simply inadequate for the realities of the technological world we live in today. We all agree that stealing is the form of action which is technically breaking the laws that we are discussing, but we are not sure about whether it is immoral stealing, if I may put it that way.

I can say that with a straight face because it is a type of situation which happens all the time in our daily lives. We are not infrequently doing something which is technically against the law in some regard. Driving one or two miles over the speed limit is a good example. I hope you don’t think that is sinful, otherwise we might need to start another thread just to discuss that.

Your talk about accessing information is irrelevant to this discussion. The whole point is that the YouTubing activities, which we agreed a long time ago are breaking the law, might not always be immoral activities in which to partake. This is what we are trying to investigate, with your help!

I’ve already given the answer: it’s the viewer’s responsibility. You think youtube is going to police itself? It’s too busy making money. It’s always immoral to take something that doesn’t belong to you, and it’s easy to find out if any video or music or whatever is legal or not. We’re on the internet, right?

Unless you want to go with OMG ITZ IMPOZZIBLE!!!

We get reports all the time about people pirating our material and whoever’s doing it has no right to do so. Technology has only made it easier to steal. Ha! Ha! My server is in Uzbekistan! Trust me. They will track you down. International law is in place.

Peace,
Ed

 

[edwest2]

Yes, you are fairly correct in summation. I think if you have reason to believe a Youtube video is illegally uploaded, it would be wrong to watch it. What I think we haven’t determined is what the moral principle is when navigating an antiquated legal system that simply does not address many of the situations we find ourselves in today.

A specific example, as Ed requests:

Take the birthday example. You are at a birthday gathering at a restaurant, and several people take up the song Happy Birthday. Should you join in, you would be breaking the law by violating Title 17 UCC § 106 (4), which grants the owner of Happy Birthday the exclusive right of public performance. Technically, you could face statutory damages that are a minimum of $200, with the fine climbing as high as $2500 if the court determines you knowingly infringed the work.

So, if you are breaking the law in this way, are you also sinning? Is singing Happy Birthday to a friend, family, or co-worker in a public place a sin?

Oh fer cryin’ out loud! This is an example? Let’s stick to youtube or Pirate Bay or my favorite: telegraph.co.uk/technology/internet/9661395/Kim-Dotcoms-new-filesharing-website-Mega-forced-offline.html

Peace,
Ed