The Traklight Blog

Some of us are more intrinsically motivated to work out, more inclined and apt to stay healthy and in shape and disciplined to a diet that allows them to be the best version of themselves. More of us, however, are not that person; we're jealous and more than a little resentful of that person, if we're honest, provided that we've seen one of them in the real world. For the vast majority of us, exercise is a slog, and there's an entire industry that's cropped up to make it easier and more convenient for us to do something that we still nevertheless don't want to do. In recent years, the tricks involved in getting us on these machines have gotten even more advanced: TVs built in, music playing, even immersive experiences that simulate an outdoor bike ride. It's enough to make you consider exercise as near-entertainment, which is rather the point.

There's a pair of arcs that most stories involving intellectual property, big companies and artists fall into: in the first, said individual or business uses a trademark or copyright of a big brand in a way that the brand's parent company can't abide, the corporate behemoth lurches into action and pursues legal remedy against the perceived injury, and the case is more often than not adjudicated in favor of the august multinational conglomerate — a David and Goliath in reverse, minus the slingshot and the beheading. (The beheading always gets left out in the metaphor, understandably.)

YouTube is not short its problems, not least of which are its handling of copyright claims. Given the size of the platform, administering any element of the site is going to be a unique challenge, and the lure of DIY options has to cry out to staff that feel overwhelmed and overtaxed to keep up with the manifold problems that seem to be introduced every day. Their method, or one of them, for reporting copyright infringement —allowing users to flag offending content— seems perfect, unless you've spent a day or an hour on the actual internet. Not surprisingly, the system is ripe for exploitation by bad-faith actors looking to exploit others. It would be too simple to think that YouTube might simply do away with what is clearly a flawed notion, but they do seem to be taking some action to try and stem the issue, at least in miniature.

New technologies, and the subsequent advances in those new technologies, present new problems, particularly for laws drawn up and passed years, if not decades ago. In fairness, it's hard to plan for a future that you can't predict, and you only have to take a look at the portrayals of the future (now our present) in the movies of the past to see how bad we are at guessing how things will shake out. Largely we've exceeded our own wildest dreams, though I'm still waiting on my hoverboard from Back to the Future Part II.

In this space I cover a lot of stories pulled straight from the day's news, often involving multinational corporations and the equivalent level of stars from the entertainment business. All big deals, to be sure, but none could hope to approach the level of status on offer to artists geared to kids. While we as adults have tempered our ideas about the artists themselves, and moderate our consumption of their work, kids have no such notions, and love with a fervor and constancy that many artists could only dream of with their own fans.

We've all spent enough time on the internet to have seen our share of hoaxes over the years. Maybe we've fallen prey to one or two, although we'd never admit it in public, and maybe not ever to ourselves. P.T. Barnum's dictum of " a sucker born every minute" applies to those other folks sharing our birth-minute, but not us, certainly, savvy minds that we are. But the truth is that we're all susceptible to get got if we don't keep a jaundiced eye to the trends sweeping the world wide web and its component apps, a cynical bend that might make us miss out on a bit of fun but at least protects us from looking the fool on occasion.

There's no greater harbinger of potential legal issues than success. In a reading more generous to plaintiffs in the scores of lawsuits that pop up around successful artists, creators and businesses, you could assert that it's the success that brings the infringement to light; the aggrieved doesn't know they've had their idea infringed upon until they see its likeness in the news or on their screens or devices. You could just as easily say that some see a chance at a possible payday in those same stories. Both are undoubtedly true, but the determination of the measure of each is a matter of your outlook on the state of the legal system and the world as a whole.

The idea of the future as equal parts wonder and nightmare is an old one. It's all over our science-fiction, in particular the notion that the same advances that push us forward could serve as the seeds of our own destruction. Robots built to serve humanity ultimately enslave us, and technology binds us and restricts us in the name of transparency and security, civic-minded ideas masking an authoritarian agenda at its heart. Grim stuff, I know, but not so grim as to prevent us from propelling ourselves ever onward toward a version of that same future close enough to be functionally indistinguishable from what we've seen on page or screen.

Finding a balance between accused and accuser in cases of intellectual property law has been one trick the U. S. legal system has yet to get quite right, although lawmakers and administrators continue the endeavor to find that elusive point that serves all involved equally. Too far one way, and you're stifling the ability of rightsholders to take action to protect their IP; too far the other and you're opening the floodgates for cases brought before the court, including those lacking any real validity. But a fear of making things worse has never stopped the United States government before, and it certainly won't be deterred in this instance.

The questions of good faith and intent can be hard to divine, and the line between earnest zeal and cynical gaming is a fine one. Lawyers are tasked with the vigorous defense of their clients' interests, and no one would begrudge an attorney for taking on as many as they feel they can responsibly handle. But does that ambition, if it can be termed that, cross at a certain point into a ploy to extract as much money from a flawed system as possible? At what point do certain behaviors cross that line from proponent of the law to one who violates and exploits that which they're meant to hold sacred?

The question of how much the government remains a body comprised of and belonging to the people it governs, or to what extent it exists as an entity now wholly separate, is a pressing matter, but one too big for the purview of this particular blog. That broader question does beg itself in the copyright case that is heading to the Supreme Court, however, in addition to the more immediate concerns that will be addressed in the decision.

The problem of copyright online has long been a vexing issue for all parties involved in trying to tackle it to the ground. Social media companies can seem to lurch from indifference to hamfisted attempts to solve problems that inevitably create different problems, with seemingly no middle ground.

One thing about technological change is that it forces many of our old, dated institutions to update and adapt or risk becoming irrelevant. The internet and the attendant changes it has brought has been particularly effective in highlighting the cracks in the facade, the holes in the boat, or any other metaphor you might choose to illustrate the shortcomings in many of the laws and bodies that govern us when it comes to an era where the physical has given way to digital.

The question of copyright in cases of addition and transformation of one artist's work on the part another is a perpetually challenging question. Art, as we are frequently told, is subjective, and the extent to which changes must be made to an original work for it to be deemed an entirely new thing is again subjective. Certain cases make the matter clear, but in more subtle alterations, it falls to others to make the final determination as to whether something is in violation of a copyright, or is significantly different as to escape any such offense.

The peculiar invention of the celebrity has grown to hold a strange and uncomfortable place in our culture for both subject and audience alike. Much like the animals at the zoos we pack to see, we are both intrigued and horrified at the sight, aware of how unnatural the arrangement is and guilty at our own part in building those cages and the half-lives of those enclosed. That's perhaps a bit melodramatic — no one has much sympathy for celebrities making more money than any of us could dream of, even as they're the subject of constant hounding by the paparazzi, though perhaps we should.

Many of the fine American institutions that prop up our society aren't recognized in any founding documents, and those holding such office given far more regard than we hold for our actual elected officials. Among these exalted figures are the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest winner, the Batman actor of the moment, and of course the current singer of the theme tune to primetime football games.

Outside of the major decisions that have far-reaching national impact, many of the cases that the Supreme Court deigns to hear can range from pedestrian to the downright dull to the interest of the average citizen. Broadly speaking, most people only concern themselves with the law only in so far as it relates to them and their personal lives, as well as the legal tenants that are understood and accepted on a societal level. Occasionally, though, news from the nation's high court turns up a case that draws interest beyond the devoted court observers, particularly if the case involves a pirate ship.

We have written before about the potential problems posed by the new spate of copyright laws introduced in the European Union, and the way that their application could create more problems than they could hope to solve when it comes to trying to serve the people they mean to help (assuming that they aim to help the public at large.) Automated copyright filters might catch all of the potential infringers in the act of uploading the offending material, but it also catches far more than that, and innocent and unsuspecting users might get caught up in the process as well. And given that any governing body should strive to do the least harm in addition to prevent crimes as possible, it seemed that the new measures put in place would eventually find scrutiny from some governmental body or another.

The current era of content has proven difficult to navigate for many of the creators that take advantage of the platform that social media offers to all to make their voices heard, particularly for those working in the areas of education or critique. There has always existed a tension between artists and studios and those who base their own work off of the work of others, but there has never before been the means for such an escalation of the conflict between the two parties as exists now.

The latest tool in the fight against IP infringement is technology, but it remains to be seen how effective those tools might be in that fight. Technology can be easy and efficient, but it can fail the test when it comes to things like judgement and intuition that humans (ideally) can do better. Machines looking at certain markers or data points aren't going to be able to render the same verdict on a photo or video as someone who can literally look at the entire picture, and understand context and nuance.