Showing posts with label copyright. Show all posts
Showing posts with label copyright. Show all posts

Saturday, 18 May 2024

Will the AI Act Bring More Clarity to the Regulation of Text and Data Mining in the EU?

 



 

Maryna Manteghi, PhD researcher, University of Turku, Finland

 

Photo credit: mikemacmarketing and Liam Huang, on Flickr via Wikimedia Commons

 

 

Background

 

The Artificial Intelligence Act (AIA), “the first-ever legal framework on AI, which addresses the risks of AI and positions Europe to play a leading role globally” (according to the European Commission), contains two provisions which are relevant to copyright. In particular, Article 53 (1) (c) (d) requires providers of general-purpose AI models first, to comply with “Union law on copyright and related rights…in particular to identify and comply with…a reservation of rights expressed pursuant to Article 4(3) of Directive (EU) 2019/790,” and second, to “draw up and make publicly available a sufficiently detailed summary about the content used for training of the general-purpose AI model…”. The provisions have been added to the text of the Act to address the risks associated with the development and exploitation of generative AI (GenAI) models such as ChatGPT, MidJourney, Dall-E, GitHub Copilot and others (see the Draft Report of the European Parliament).

 

TDM in the context of copyright

 

AI systems have to be trained on huge amounts of existing data including copyright-protected works to be able to perform a wide range of challenging tasks and generate different types of content (e.g., texts, images, music, computer programs etc.,) (for technical aspects see e.g., Avanika Narayan et al). In other words, GenAI models have to learn the inherent characteristics of real-world data to generate creative content on demand. AI developers employ various automated analytical techniques to train their systems on actual data. One example is text and data mining (TDM), the concept which involves techniques and methods needed to extract new knowledge (e.g., patterns, insights, trends etc.,) from Big Data (for a general overview of TDM techniques and methods see e.g., Jiawei Han et al). A computer typically makes copies of collected works to be able to mine (train) AI algorithms.

 

TDM requires processing of huge amounts of data, thus training datasets may also contain copyright-protected works (e.g., books, articles, pictures, etc.,). However, unauthorised copying of protected works may potentially infringe one of the exclusive rights of copyright holders, in particular the right to reproduction granted to authors under Article 2 of the Directive on copyright in the information society (the InfoSoc Directive). To prevent the risk of copyright infringement, providers of GenAI have to negotiate licenses over protected works or rely on a so-called “commercial” TDM exception provided under Art. 4 of EU Directive 2019/790 on copyright in the digital single market (CDSM), which, as we have seen above, is referred to in the AI Act. The provision has been adopted alongside the “scientific research” TDM exception (Art. 3 of CDSM) to provide more legal certainty specifically for commercially operating organisations.

 

However, providers of GenAI models have to meet two-fold requirements to enjoy the exception of Art. 4 of CDSM. First, they need to obtain “lawful access” to data they wish to mine through contractual agreements, and subscriptions, based on open access policy or through other lawful means, or use only materials which are freely available online (Art. 4 and Recital 14 of CDSM). Second, AI developers have to check whether rightholders have reserved the use of their works for TDM by using machine-readable means, including metadata and terms and conditions of a website or a service or through contractual agreements or unilateral declarations, or not (Art. 4 (3) and Recital 18 of CDSM).

 

The copyright-related obligations of the AI Act: a closer look

 

It appears that Article 53 (1) (c) of the Artificial Intelligence Act ultimately dispelled all doubts regarding the relevance of Article 4 of CDSM to AI training by obliging providers of GenAI to comply with the reservation right granted to rightholders under this provision. The arguments in favour of this idea could also be derived from the broad definition of TDM included in the text of CDSM (“any automated analytical technique aimed at analysing text and data in digital form in order to generate information…” Article 2 (2) CDSM) and the aim of Article 4 of CDSM that is to enable the use of TDM by both public and private entities for various purposes, including for the development of new applications and technologies (Recital 18 of CDSM) (see e.g., Rosati here and here; Ducato and Strowel; and Margoni and Kretschmer).

 

Further, the new transparency clause of the AI Act requiring providers of GenAI models to reveal data used for pre-training and training of their systems (Article 53 (1) (d) of AIA and recital 107) could also bring more certainty in the context of AI training and copyright. Recital 107 of the Act clarifies that providers of GenAI models would not be required to provide a technically detailed summary of sources where mined data were scraped but it would be sufficient to list “the main data collections or sets that went into training the model, such as large private or public databases or data archives, and by providing a narrative explanation about other data sources used”. This clarification could make the practical implementation of the transparency obligation less burdensome for AI developers taking into account huge masses of data used for mining (training) of AI algorithms. The transparency obligation under Article 53 (1) (d) of the Act would allow rightholders to determine whether their works have been used in training datasets or not and if needed, opt out of them. Therefore, the provision would literarily enable the work of an “opt-out” mechanism of Article 4 (3) of CDSM.

 

However, the “commercial” TDM exception may not be a proper solution for AI developers as their ability to train (and thus develop) their systems would depend on the discretion of rightholders. What does it exactly mean? Put simply, there are some issues which could restrict or even prohibit the application of TDM techniques. First, the exception can be overridden by a contract under Article 7 of the CDSM Directive. Second, rightholders may restrict access to their works for TDM by not issuing licenses or raising licensing/subscription fees. Moreover, even if users would be lucky enough to obtain “lawful access” to protected works rightholders can prohibit TDM in contracts, terms and conditions of their websites or by employing technological protection measures. Third, rightholders may employ an “opt-out” mechanism to reserve the use of their works for TDM, thereby obliging TDM users to pay twice- first to acquire “lawful access” to data and a second time to mine (analyse) it (see Manteghi). In this sense, rightholders literally would control innovation and technological progress in the EU as the development of AI technologies heavily relies on TDM tools.

 

Concluding thoughts

 

To sum up, the copyright-related obligations of the AI Act could alleviate (to some extent) the conflict of interest between copyright holders and providers of GenAI models, providing that training of AI models should be covered by the specific copyright exception and be subject to a transparency obligation would bring more clarity to the regulation of AI development. However, major concerns remain regarding the excessive power granted to rightholders under the “lawful access” requirement and the right to reservation of Article 4 of CDSM. The author of this blog does not support the idea of making copyright-protected works freely available for everyone but rather wants to emphasise the risks of the deceptively broad “commercial” TDM exception. The future of AI development, innovation and research should not be left at the discretion of copyright holders. The purpose of AI training is not to directly infringe copyright holders' exclusive rights but to extract new knowledge for developing advanced AI systems that would benefit various fields of our lives. Therefore, the specific TDM exceptions should balance the competing interests in practice and not tip the scales in favour of a particular stakeholder that would only create more tension in the rapidly evolving algorithmic society.

Tuesday, 10 August 2021

Copyright and the Internet: Poland v Parliament and Council (Case C-401/19), Opinion of the Advocate General, 15 July 2021


 


Lorna Woods, Professor of Internet Law, University of Essex

 

Introduction

 

The development of ‘web 2.0’, especially social media, has meant that many people are able to post content to potentially large audiences.  The amount of content, however, and how to manage conflicting rights between different users has led to debate about the role of the platforms in helping remedy the problems that the platforms facilitate (that come along with the benefits the platforms enable).  One particular issue is the acceptability of the use of filtering technologies, especially from the perspective of the freedom of expression of the user of the work.  It has come before the courts before, when the courts – in the context of copyright claims - had expressed concerns about those techniques.  Given the quantity of material uploaded, however, it is hard to envisage that in person ex post review of content would be possible, let alone effective.  The problem of copyright enforcement remains – and the ‘value gap’ created by mass unauthorised use of protected works. Platforms have had little incentive to prevent the problem from arising – indeed it could be said the platforms benefitted (through advertising revenue) from the existence of this content. The ex post system – whereby copyright holders notify and the platform removes content to maintain its immunity under Article 14 e-Commerce Directive – has not been seen as effective by rights-holders.

 

This problem had led to the overhaul of the copyright regime and the enactment of the Copyright Directive in the Digital Single Market (Directive 2019/790), a proposal that during the legislative process was subject to extensive lobbying.  The result is a directive which aims to reduce the ‘value gap’ and to rebalance matters more in favour of the creators of content with the introduction of a new press publisher’s right (Article 15) and, notably, Article 17 which covers use of protected content by online content-sharing service providers.  Article 17, however, was contentious, leading to this challenge by Poland, and the recent Advocate-General’s opinion. While it is important in understanding the scope of Article 17 itself, we might also ask whether the reasoning here might have broader implications.

 

Provisions in Issue

 

Article 17 changes (or clarifies) the position under copyright that the platforms caught by the definitions in the directive will automatically be considered to be carrying out 'acts of communication to the public or making available to the public' when they give the public access to copyright-protected content uploaded by users, and therefore require authorisation from the relevant content owners. Article 17(3) displaces Article 14 e-Commerce Directive, which provides conditional immunity from penalties to neutral hosts. Article 17(3) provides that, if there are no relevant licensing arrangements in place, the platforms will only be able to maintain immunity if they satisfy the terms of Article 17(4). Article 17(4) introduces 4 cumulative conditions (arranged across 3 subparagraphs) – that the platform has:

 

(a) made best efforts to obtain an authorisation, and

 

(b) made, in accordance with high industry standards of professional diligence, best efforts to ensure the unavailability of specific works and other subject matter for which the right-holders have provided the service providers with the relevant and necessary information; and in any event

 

(c) acted expeditiously, upon receiving a sufficiently substantiated notice from the right-holders, to disable access to, or to remove from their websites, the notified works or other subject matter, and made best efforts to prevent their future uploads in accordance with point (b).

 

While the first part of Article 17(4)(c) is similar to the conditions in Article 14 e-Commerce Directive, the other three elements are new.  Without dealing with any questions around the definitions of the platforms falling within this obligation, a number of questions arise: does Article 17(4) effectively require upload filters (and will they lead to overblocking); what are best efforts, especially in relation to the monitoring which is implied; and does Article 17(4) effectively require ‘general monitoring’ (despite the clarification in Article 17(8) that it should not lead to general monitoring).

 

Article 17(7) might be seen as an effort at counter-balance: it provides

 

The cooperation between online content-sharing service providers and right-holders shall not result in the prevention of the availability of works or other subject matter uploaded by users, which do not infringe copyright and related rights, including where such works or other subject matter are covered by an exception or limitation.

 

Significantly, the directive expressly lists the exceptions for quotation, criticism, review and for caricature, parody or pastiche.  There are also obligations (in Article 17(9)) relating to redress and complaints mechanisms, which some sections of industry have claimed are onerous.  Some of the vagueness around requirements might be dealt with by Commission guidance aimed at aiding coherent implementation of the directive; while this is now available, at the time the case was lodged it was not.

 

The Legal Challenge

 

The Issue

 

Poland issued a judicial review action, seeking annulment of the provision (either just Article 17(4)(b) and (c) or Article 17 in its entirety) on the basis of its incompatibility with freedom of expression as guaranteed by the Charter (Article 11 EUCFR), either by destroying the essence of the right or by constituting a disproportionate interference with that right.

 

The Nature of the Obligation

 

A preliminary issue concerned is the nature of the obligation imposed by Article 17(4) and whether it requires for preventive monitoring purposes the use of upload filters. While this is not explicitly required, the Advocate General took the view that, in many circumstances, the use of those tools are required [para 62]. Further, industry standards will have an impact on the decision as to what best practice is [para 65-6]. So, while the recitals provided considerations to assess what suitable methods would look like (see recital 66), this did not affect the assessment that the reality was the upload filters of some description would be used.

 

The Impact on Freedom of Expression

 

Applicability of the Right

 

One precondition for the applicability of fundamental rights is that the actions under challenge could be imputed to the State; here, the actions of the platforms are in issue (and their right to run a business under Article 16 EUCFR). The Advocate General drew a distinction between the circumstances where a platform had real choice and the circumstances here. The provision might formally give operators a choice: do this and get exemption from liability, or choose not to do that and face exposure to liability. The Advocate General emphasised that the assessment as to compliance with Article 11 should take account of what is happening in practice; the reality is that ‘the conditions for exemption laid down in the contested provisions will, in practice, constitute genuine obligations for those providers’ [para 86, emphasis in original].

 

Limitations – Lawfulness

 

The conditions for limiting Article 11 EUCFR are found in Article 52(1) EUCFR. The requirement there that the restriction be ‘provided for by law’ was to be understood in the light of the jurisprudence on lawfulness for the purpose of Article 10(2) ECHR (citing some CJEU decisions on data protection and the right to a private life in support). Lawfulness requires not just a basis in law, clearly satisfied here, but must be accessible and foreseeable. The first aspect is clearly satisfied. As regards the second, the Advocate General noted that the case law allows the legislature ‘without undermining the requirement of “foreseeability” [to] choose to endow the texts it adopts with a certain flexibility rather than absolute certainty’ [para 95, citing the Grand Chamber judgment in Delfi v Estonia, discussed here]. Nonetheless, the case-law on lawfulness also requires safeguards against arbitrary or abusive interference with rights. This issue the Advocate General linked to proportionality.

 

Limitations – the Essence of the Right

 

The requirement to respect the essence of the right provides a limit on the discretion of the legislature to weigh up competing interests and come to a fair balance. It is ‘an “untouchable core” which must remain free from any interference’ [para 99]. According to the Advocate General, an ‘obligation preventively to monitor, in general, the content of users of their services in search of any kind of illegal, or even simply undesirable information’ constitutes such an interference [para 104]. Article 15 e-Commerce Directive is ‘a general principle of law governing the Internet’ [para 106, emphasis in original and referring to Scarlet Extended and SABAM], and binds the EU legislature. Importantly, this principle does not prohibit all forms of monitoring; the jurisprudence of the CJEU has already distinguished monitoring which occurs in specific cases, and a similar position can be seen in the case-law of the ECtHR (Delfi). Tracing the development of the CJEU’s reasoning over time from the early cases of L’Oreal, Scarlet Extended and SABAM, through McFadden to Glawischnig-Piesczek (discussed here), the Advocate General opined that Article 17 is a specific monitoring obligation [para 110]; it focuses on specific items of content and the fact that a platform would have to search all content to find it does not equate to a general obligation.

 

Limitations – Proportionality

 

After reviewing the first two aspects of proportionality (appropriate and necessary), the Advocate General moved to discuss the heart of the matter:  proportionality strictu sensu and the balance achieved between the conflicting rights.  The Advocate General accepted that it was permissible for the EU legislature to change the balance it had adopted in Article 14 e-Commerce Directive for that in the new Copyright in the Digital Market Directive taking into account the different context, and the broad discretion the institutions have in the complex area. The Advocate General identified the following factors: the extent of the economic harm caused due to the scale of uploading; the ineffectiveness of the notice and take down system; the difficulties in prosecuting those responsible and the fact that the obligations concern specific service providers [para 137].

 

The next issue whether platforms would take ‘the easy way out’ and over-block just to be on the safe side in terms of their own exposure to liability. The Advocate-General excluded this possibility in his interpretation of the ‘best efforts’ obligation. So, the obligation to take users’ rights into account ex ante and not just ex post supports the proportionality of the measure; the redress rights and the out-of-court redress mechanism are supplementary safeguards. Service providers may not use any filtering technology but must instead consider the collateral effect of blocking when implementing measures. Systems which block based on just content and not taking into account the legitimate uses would fall foul of the position in Scarlet Extended and SABAM.

 

This was followed by a consideration of Glawischnig-Piesczek. In the light of the CJEU’s emphasis  on the platform in that case not having to make an independent decision as to the acceptability of content to take down (and to stay down), the Advocate General suggested that platforms cannot be expected to make independent assessments of the legality of content. He concluded:

 

to minimise the risk of ‘over-blocking’ and, therefore, ensure complaince with the right to freedom of expression, an intermediary provider may, in my view, only be required to filter and block information which has first been established by a court as being illegal or, otherwise, information the unlawfulness of which is obvious from the outset, that is to say, it is manifest, without, inter alia, the need for contextualisation [para 198].

 

Referring back to his own opinion in YouTube and Cyando, ‘an intermediary provider cannot be required to undertake general filtering of the information it stores in order to seek any infringement’ [200, emphasis in original].

 

The Advocate General concluded that Article 17 contained sufficient safeguards. Article 17(7), which states that measures taken ‘shall not result in the prevention of the availability of works or other subject matter uploaded by users, which do not infringe copyright and related rights’ means that wide blocking is not permitted and that in ambiguous cases, priority should be given to freedom of expression [para 207] and that ‘“false positives” of blocking legal content, were more serious than “false negatives”, which would mean letting some illegal content through’ [para 207]. Rights-holders can still request infringing content be taken down [para 218]. Having said that, a nil error rate for false positives is not required, though the error rate should be as low as possible and those techniques that result in a significant false positive rate being precluded. Article 17(10), which providers for stakeholder cooperation, is in the view of the Advocate-General the place to determine the practical implementation of these requirements [213].

 

Comment

The Opinion constitutes the attempts of the Advocate-General to steer a course through the radically different interpretations of Article 17, a fact which perhaps reflects the provision’s contentious nature.  The outcome of the case will be significant beyond the enforcement of copyright, as similar mechanisms might be required under other legislation: TERREG (Regulation 2021/784 on  addressing  the  dissemination  of  terrorist  content  online) for example, envisages hosting service providers putting in place ‘specific measures’ (recitals 22-23, Article 5(2)) that include the possibility of ‘technical means’ to address dissemination of terrorism content online.  The highlight news is, of course, that the Advocate-General did not find Article 17 to be contrary to Article 11 EUCFR though what that means for the obligations under Article 17 is potentially complex. Before discussing that issue, a number of other points can be noted.

 

The first point is the complex context for assessing fundamental rights. As the Advocate General noted, the platforms are private actors; it is not as simple as a user saying ‘because of freedom of expression I can upload what I like on this platform’.  There are two points.  The first is whether the platforms’ choices can be attributed to the Member States? This is relevant because the rights are not addressed to private actors (Article 51 EUCFR; this is also true under the ECHR).  This is an issue on which there has not – in the context of the EUCFR – been much case law to date.  The responsibility of the State, however, subsequently forms a significant element of the Advocate general’s approach to Article 17 and its safeguards: attributing the interference to the State means that the framework for analysis is that of the state’s negative obligations, rather than introducing questions of positive obligations.

 

At this early stage in his Opinion, however, the Advocate General was content to flag up the relevance of the rights. He referred to the jurisprudence of the ECHR to support his position:

 

-          Appleby, which concerned the access of peaceful protesters to a privately-owned shopping centre. There, the ECtHR held that they had no right under Article 10; they could make their views known in other venues.  This is a case about positive obligations.

 

-          Tierfabriken, concerning the refusal of the Commercial Television Company to allow the broadcast of an animal rights advert because it breached the company’s terms of business and the terms of national law. In the view of the regulatory authorities, the company was free to purchase its ads wherever it chose. The Court held that, irrespective of the formal status of the actors, the State was implicated because the company had relied on the prohibition of political advertising contained in the regulatory regime when making its decision. Domestic law “therefore made lawful the treatment of which the applicant association complained” [para 47]. 

 

Neither case seems to be making precisely the argument that the Advocate General made – that the platforms had no choice. Nonetheless, the point seems fair. The implications of this point should be considered; does this mean that whenever platforms make a decision based on elements of their terms of service that reflect national law that freedom of expression is implicated?  Beyond this point, it seems clear that platforms may set their own terms of service to reflect their business choices and that (subject to concerns about individuals losing all possibility of communicating) there would be no freedom of expression based complaint related to the enforcement of those terms. Further, it seems that were the State to try to interfere with the platforms’ choices in this regard, that interference would need to recognise Article 16 EUCFR or even Article 11.

 

The Advocate-General considered the lawfulness requirement in Article 52(1), something that the Court does not always do (assuming it is satisfied). As well as the formal required of being based in law, the lawfulness test has qualitative requirements. In carrying out his analysis, the Advocate-General treated questions about the safeguards against abuse which are part of the lawfulness test as part of questions of proportionality. In this, he followed the approach of the ECtHR under Article 8 ECHR (right to a private life) in the surveillance cases.  This approach has been criticised in that context as blurring two different questions aimed at two separate concerns and in so doing lowering the threshold of protection.  The approach has not so far been adopted in relation to freedom of expression even by the Strasbourg court and so is novel here.  The issue of safeguards in this Opinion is central, as we shall see below.

 

Another novelty is the discussion of the ‘essence of the right’, which has not received that much attention. The Advocate General helpfully started with a clear statement as to what the requirement is – an untouchable core – where the usual balancing of rights cannot take place.  Given the complex array of potentially conflicting rights in play in this context, that principle could be important. Once again, the Advocate General drew on the surveillance case law, perhaps because it is the only place where there is much discussion of the point. In the context of surveillance, the Court has held that general monitoring of content would damage the essence of the right, but that the general retention of metadata did not (though it might still be hard to justify). On one level the prohibition on general monitoring covers the same ground as the prohibition on mass content interception under Article 7 EUCFR (and Article 8 ECHR) – though Article 7 operates in the context of private communications rather than content that could well be made publicly, effectively broadcast. What is arguably a similar boundary was drawn here: general monitoring would undermine the core of the right but specific monitoring, as a form of prior restraint, would not.  In this, the Advocate General pointed out that although prior restraints are very intrusive of freedom of expression and tightly controlled under the Strasbourg jurisprudence, they are not automatically impermissible.  Significantly, the Advocate-General claimed that the prohibition on general monitoring is a general principle of Internet law – though it is far from clear what weight the status as ‘general principle’ has in this specific context. Is a general principle of Internet law different from a general principle within EU law more generally? Of course, this discussion is based on the assumption that filtering for specific content is somehow different from looking at everything and also leaves the question of how broad the category of content searched for can be before it ceases to be ‘specific’.

 

What then of the Advocate-General’s approach to Article 17?  From his analysis of the freedom of expression framework, the scope of the obligation is important with determining its acceptability. Clearly, the discussion of general versus specific monitoring is one aspect of this, but the safeguards required to legitimate an interference with freedom of expression also protect in the Advocate-General’s view against over-blocking. The inventive interpretation of the platforms’ ‘best efforts’ is central to this approach. Essentially, this interpretation narrows the scope of when and what is permissible; automated techniques can be used when they are functionally able to do the job.  On one viewpoint this is good; preventing platforms from over-reliance on possibly not very good technologies to the detriment of their users (and potentially exhibiting bias in that process too). It is a way of balancing the reality of scale with the concerns of over-blocking and could be seen as a clever way of reconciling conflicting demands. 

 

Does this interpretation, however, suggest, that the balance of Article 17 is still heavily shifted towards ex post moderation and take down systems because effectively the conditions that the Advocate General has set on the use of technology mean that there is no technology that can be used (and little incentive to develop it) or can only be used in a very limited way?  Where we are balancing copyright and business rights against freedom of expression, this shift towards a less effective content control system might not seem so bad (even if it flies in the face of the stated concerns driving the legislation), but would the same analysis be deployed in relation to child sexual exploitation and abuse material? The difficulty here is that the Advocate General’s framework for analysis is content blind. While it is based on the text of Article 17(7) and could therefore be understood as relevant just to this directive, his interpretation of that provision is given impetus by his introduction of the requirement for safeguards derived from freedom of expression. This would then have a wider application. The Advocate General here explicitly prioritises freedom of expression over another Charter right (Article 17 EUCFR) and there does not seem to be an obvious place within the safeguards framing where issues around the importance of speech or importance of other rights can easily be taken into account.

 

One final point to note is, of course, that this is an Opinion and not binding. The Advocate General referred to his reasoning in YouTube and Cyando. The Court decided that case without reference to his reasoning. It remains to be seen how much it will influence the Court here – or in relation to discussions around other legislation which envisage proactive technical measures.

 

Photo credit: via wikicommons media





Tuesday, 18 February 2020

Regulatory divergence post Brexit: Copyright law as an indicator for what is to come




Martin Kretschmer, Professor of Intellectual Property Law (CREATe Centre, University of Glasgow)

Here we have it. The first instance of regulatory divergence. The UK is leaving the European Union, and already the rules of the single market are starting to break.

In response to a parliamentary question by Labour MP Jo Stevens, then-Intellectual Property Minister Chris Skidmore said on 21 January that the UK Government had no intention of implementing the most recent EU Copyright Directive, for which the UK Government had voted in the EU Council in spring 2019. There was significant dissent among EU Member States and the Directive would not have been adopted without the UK’s support.

Does this matter? Copyright law may not be what people expected to be the first post-Brexit regulatory fault line. The public debate has been dominated by standards for labour, the environment, public subsidies and taxation, where the EU’s concern is regulatory dumping. Yet Brexiteers have said many times that leaving the EU only makes sense if it leads to the UK becoming a more attractive destination for business. This means entering into a process of regulatory competition with its closest neighbouring market. So it is advisable to pay close attention to how this negotiation will play out. And copyright law is where the choices start.

Let’s consider the parliamentary exchange in the House of Commons in full:

On 16 January 2020, a written question was asked by Jo Stevens, Labour MP for Cardiff, headed “Copyright: EU Action” (4371):

“To ask the Secretary of State for Business, Energy and Industrial Strategy, what plans the Government has to bring forward legislative proposals to implement the EU Copyright Directive in UK law.”

Chris Skidmore, then Minister of State for Universities, Science, Research and Innovation (which includes responsibility for intellectual property) answered on 21 January 2020:

“The deadline for implementing the EU Copyright Directive is 7 June 2021. The United Kingdom will leave the European Union on 31 January 2020 and the Implementation Period will end on 31 December 2020. The Government has committed not to extend the Implementation Period. Therefore, the United Kingdom will not be required to implement the Directive, and the Government has no plans to do so. Any future changes to the UK copyright framework will be considered as part of the usual domestic policy process.”

Which future domestic policies may diverge from the aims of the Directive? The Directive on Copyright in the Digital Single Market contains three different groups of measures.

The first group harmonises a number of copyright exceptions affecting cross-border uses. New provisions also make it easier to use out-of-commerce works (Article 8) and ensure that works of visual art that have reached the end of their copyright term remain in the public domain (Article 14). This first group of provisions modestly benefits cultural heritage, educational and research institutions.

The second group of interventions seeks to improve the contractual position of authors and performers. A general fair remuneration principle is established, and greater transparency of royalty statements encouraged. Article 22 also gives authors and performers a new right to revoke a licence or transfer of rights where there is a lack of exploitation. These new contractual regulations could be considered a challenge to common law principles of freedom of contract, but they lack teeth. While they have been widely welcomed by creators, routes to enforcement remain unclear. Again, there is no obvious alternative policy path.  

The third group of measures is much more controversial. They are introduced in the Directive under the innocuous sounding label of “Measures to achieve a well-functioning marketplace for copyright”. The headline intervention is a change to the liability regime of platforms that host user-uploaded content. Article 17 (formerly 13) creates a new category of ‘online content sharing service provider’ that will no longer benefit from the ‘safe harbour’ of the e-Commerce Directive, a core piece of internet legislation adopted in the year 2000. The e-Commerce Directive exempts platforms from liability for unlawful content found on their services (if removed “expeditiously” following notice).

In the polarised debate of the Copyright Directive, Article 17 was pushed as a decisive industrial policy measure that would enable the music industry to improve licensing deals and revenue sharing offered by Google’s YouTube service. In an effective trope coined by the UK music industry, Article 17 was to close the “value gap” between European creators and US technology giants. Opponents characterised the measure as a “censorship law” that would lead to the default use of upload filters and the disappearance of “memes” (because they re-use identifiable copyrighted materials).

A typical exchange between the two sides of the debate can be found in these letters published by the Financial Times (paywalled) during the final stages of the legislative process: Julia Reda: State-of-the-art copyright filters threaten freedom of expression; Michael Grade: Copyright reform will put an end to this freeloading. Recent evaluations of the Copyright Directive can be found here and here.

Boris Johnson (then out of government) had tweeted near the end phase of the European legislative process on 27 March 2019: “The EU’s new copyright law is terrible for the internet. It’s a classic EU law to help the rich and powerful, and we should not apply it. It is a good example of how we can take back control”.

On the balance of evidence analysed by independent experts (to which I contributed), the Prime Minister seems to be correct. The industrial policy measures of the Copyright Directive will have numerous unintended consequences beyond the music sector, and will make market entry and user-led innovation harder.

So, has the UK suddenly seen the light? Does evidence matter? Are we observing the emergence of a coherent policy addressing the creative industries?

There is a possibility that the UK acted cynically, supporting the Directive in the European policy making process in the anticipation that it would damage the economy of the EU’s digital single market. This suspicion is implied by the outrage felt towards the UK’s policy U-turn last week. More likely, the UK civil service just kept their heads down during the copyright negotiations. They may not have wanted to draw attention at a moment of sensitivity over the Withdrawal Agreement. And perhaps the UK’s politicians were distracted. But this position will not do for much longer.

Post Brexit, regulatory divergence on copyright will not simply be a matter of domestic policy choice, as implied by the ministerial answer. Critically, it will depend on what new trade arrangements look like. Keeping a safe harbour for content sharing platforms in place may attract tech firms to set up in the UK. Yet there is also an agenda targeting the major digital platforms. The UK government is already committing to impose a “duty of care” liability (Queen’s Speech of 19 December: “My Ministers will develop legislation to improve internet safety for all [Online Harms Bill].” The government also says it will continue to pursue a Digital Services tax.

It is already clear that these platform measures cannot be insulated from wider Free Trade Agreements (FTAs) sought with both the EU and the US. In addition, looking at past FTAs negotiated by the US, there is a track record of taking aggressive intellectual property positions. For example, in 2004 Australia was unable to shelter its drug price control scheme (Pharmaceutical Benefits Scheme PBS) from significant change, and conceded increased intellectual property standards.

When studying the UK’s options as they affect culture and the creative industries, independent evidence on raising or decreasing obligations of platforms (with or without intellectual property dimensions) will be critical. There is an urgent need to develop a more coherent framework as trade negotiations begin in earnest. The AHRC funded Creative Industries Policy & Evidence Centre (PEC) is already studying the UK’s international competitive position. In this context, Prof. Philip Schlesinger and I are in the process of mapping the regulatory landscape for online platforms.

The legitimacy of governments is increasingly in doubt. The Brexit process itself is a challenge to established procedural principles that lend legitimacy to a ruling power. Legitimacy requires that a government can explain the reasons for its actions.

The UK Government needs to be held to this standard. We need to know on what basis, and for what aims and purposes, the UK intends to regulate contested norms, such as the liability of platforms under copyright law. Why does the UK wish to diverge? Just to signal that it is taking a different stance? Or is there actually a game-plan? Answers are needed before we enter into trade negotiations that will then fundamentally shape “domestic choices”.

Barnard & Peers: chapter 27
Photo credit: Gero Nagel, via Wikicommons

Friday, 17 February 2017

The Marrakesh Treaty judgment: the ECJ clarifies EU external powers over copyright law




Gesa KĂĽbek, PhD candidate at the law faculty of the University of Passau.

On 14th February 2017, the European Court of Justice (ECJ) concluded, in Opinion 3/15, that the European Union (EU) is exclusively competent to conclude the Marrakesh Treaty to Facilitate Access to Published Works for Persons Who Are Blind, Visually Impaired, or Otherwise Print Disabled (hereafter: Marrakesh Treaty). Its decision in Opinion 3/15 mirrors, at first sight, Advocate General (AG) Wahl’s Opinion, which equally argued that the EU has exclusive competence to conclude the Marrakesh Treaty. A closer look at Opinion 3/15, however, reveals that the Court opted for a much stricter interpretation of the scope of the EU’s Common Commercial Policy (CCP) – ie the EU’s international trade powers – than the AG. Moreover, the Court’s answer to the question of exclusivity does not clarify the correct choice of legal basis.

The following blog post provides an overview of the Court’s Opinion 3/15 and a short analysis thereof. The first part describes the conflict at stake and the arguments of the parties. The second part outlines the Court’s position. The final section discusses some of the implications of Opinion 3/15 for EU treaty-making.

The conflict at stake: Questions of exclusivity and the choice of legal basis

In June 2013, the World Organisation on Intellectual Property (WIPO) finalised the negotiations of the Marrakesh Treaty, which aims to facilitate access to published work for persons who are blind, visually impaired or otherwise print disabled (hereafter: “beneficiary persons”). The Marrakesh Treaty stipulates two separate, but interrelated instruments to fulfil its objectives. First, it obliges its contracting parties to provide for an exception or limitation to the rights of reproduction, distribution and making available to the public in order to make format copies more readily available for beneficiary persons. Second, it facilitates the cross-border exchange of accessible format copies.

In April 2014, the EU Council decided to sign the Marrakesh Treaty for the European Union based on Article 207 TFEU (the EU’s CCP power) in conjuncture with Article 114 TFEU (the EU’s internal market power, which is the basis for harmonising copyright law within the EU, among other things). The subsequent Commission proposal for the conclusion of the agreement was, however, rejected by the Member States as represented in the Council, which caused fierce institutional debate over the choice of legal basis. According to the Commission, Arts. 207 and 114 TFEU were correctly selected. In the alternative, the Marrakesh Treaty may be based on the CCP alone, which the Lisbon Treaty confirms as an exclusive competence (Art. 3 (1) (e) TFEU). In any event, the Commission argued that the rights and obligations comprised by the Marrakesh Treaty were largely harmonized by EU internal legislation. As a result, it asserted that exclusive EU competence can be implied (Art. 3 (2) TFEU). 

The eight intervening Member States rejected the assumption of EU exclusivity. Instead, in their view, the competences to conclude the Marrakesh Treaty ought to be shared, which may result in the conclusion of a “mixed agreement” that lists both the EU and the Member States as contracting parties. Given the persisting institutional conflicts, the Commission asked the Court to clarify whether the EU has the exclusive competence to conclude the Marrakesh Treaty.

As was stated above, AG Wahl supported the Commission’s quest for exclusive EU treaty-making powers. Somewhat surprisingly, the AG, however, determined that the Marrakesh Treaty should be concluded on the basis of Art. 207 TFEU on the CCP and – as contended by numerous Member States - Art. 19 (1) TFEU, the EU’s power to adopt many non-discrimination laws. The latter provision underlines the Marrakesh Treaty’s objective to promote non-discrimination, equal opportunity, accessibility and participation of disabled persons in the society. Despite the implication of exclusivity, the choice of Art. 19 (1) TFEU entails important procedural consequences: As the provision stipulates that the adoption of EU legislation requires unanimity in the Council, EU treaty-making under the anti-discrimination power equally grants the Member States veto powers in the Council (Art. 218 (8) TFEU).

The Court‘s position in Opinion 3/15

In order to answer the preliminary question, the Court, first, examined whether the Marrakesh Treaty, in full or in part, falls within the scope of the CCP. Thereafter, the ECJ analysed whether exclusivity can be implied within the meaning of Art. 3 (2) TFEU.

The reach of commercial aspects of intellectual property rights

To start with, the Court recalled that according to settled case-law, an EU act falls within the CCP “if it relates specifically to international trade in that it is essentially intended to promote, facilitate or govern trade and has direct and immediate effects on trade” (Daiichi Sankyo). Conversely, the mere fact that an EU act is liable to have implications on international trade is not enough for it to be concluded under the CCP.

In its subsequent reasoning, the Court outlined that neither one of the aforementioned instruments of the Marrakesh Treaty intends to promote, facilitate or govern international trade. The Court’s Opinion is particularly striking with regard to the import and export of format copies, as “there is no doubt that those rules relate to the international trade of such copies” (para 87). Nevertheless, the Court stated that the cross-border exchange specified by the Marrakesh Treaty cannot be equated with international trade for commercial purposes. On the one hand, the objective of the circulation and exchange of format copies is non-commercial in nature. The Marrakesh Treaty solely uses cross-border transactions as a mean to improve access of beneficiary persons to accessible format copies and not to promote, govern or facilitate trade. On the other hand, the Marrakesh Treaty’s non-commercial character results from the fact that it does generally not stipulate trade for profit.

Indeed, the Marrakesh Treaty provides that trade in format copies covers only authorised entities, which operate on a non-profit basis and provide their service to beneficiary persons alone. According to AG Wahl, the non-profit basis of trade in format copies, is, however, irrelevant for the application of the CCP. To that extent, the AG proposed a very broad definition of commercial aspects of intellectual property rights (IPR), which Article 207 (1) TFEU expressly includes within the scope of the CCP. In his view, the CCP does not exclude from its ambit transactions or activities of a non-commercial nature as the mere exchange of goods and services implies that they are being traded. Instead, Art. 207 (1) TFEU excludes non-commercial aspects of IPR, i.e. issue areas that are not strictly or directly concerned with trade in their entirety, such as moral rights.

The Court, however, rejected the claim that commercial aspects of IPR carve out only those rules relating to moral rights. Such a broad interpretation would, in the eyes of the Court, “lead to an excessive extension of the field covered by the common commercial policy by bringing within that policy rules that have no specific link with international trade.” (para 85) Consequently, the ECJ concluded that the Marrakesh Treaty falls outside the ambit of the CCP.

Implied exclusivity and the “ERTA doctrine”

Subsequently, the Court analysed whether exclusivity can nevertheless be implied via the well-known “ERTA doctrine” (referring to the Court’s ERTA judgment), which is codified in Article 3 (2) TFEU. According to this doctrine, EU obtains exclusive treaty-making powers where the conclusion of an international agreement “may affect common rules or alter their scope”.  In its ERTA line of case law, the Court has developed a two-level test for establishing external Member State pre-emption: First, it conducts a “comprehensive and detailed analysis” to determine whether the provisions of the envisaged agreement are largely covered by common EU rules (Opinion 2/91). Second, it determines whether the conclusion of the international agreement affects the “uniform and consistent application” of these common EU rules “and the proper functioning of the system which they establish.” (Opinion 1/13, discussed here).

There was little disagreement between the parties that the Marrakesh Agreement had to be implemented within the framework of Directive 2001/29 on the harmonisation of certain aspects of copyright and related rights in the information society.  The Court, however, pointed out that “it is clear (..) that the EU legislature brought about only a partial harmonisation of copyright and related rights, given that the directive is not intended to remove or to prevent differences between national laws which do not adversely affect the functioning of the internal market.” (para 115) Indeed, Directive 2001/29 provides, within its harmonized legal framework, for considerable Member State discretion as regards the implementation of exceptions and limitations to distribution for the benefit of people with disabilities. Does such a residual Member State competence mean that the Marrakesh Treaty is not largely covered by common EU rules, and therefore prevent implied exclusivity?

The Court answered this question in the negative. Directive 2001/29 subjects the Member States’ remaining competence to a number of conditions. The Member States’ discretion can therefore only be exercised within the limits enjoined by EU law, so that the Member States “are not free to determine, in an un-harmonised manner, the overall boundaries of the exception or limitation for persons with a disability.” (para 122) Moreover, the Marrakesh Treaty – unlike Directive 2001/29 – imposes an obligation on the contracting parties to provide for an exception or limitation. The Member States are therefore mandated to comply with the restraints imposed by EU law. As a result, the Court concludes that independent external Member State action would affect common EU rules. The EU is therefore exclusively competent to conclude the Marrakesh Treaty.

Opinion 3/15 and EU treaty-making: A short analysis

As stated in the introduction, the Court’s finding of (implied) exclusivity does not come as a surprise to many observers. Neither does the broad interpretation of the “largely covered” part of the ERTA-test. After all, the Court already confirmed in Opinion 1/03 and, more recently, in Green Network, that considerable Member State discretion in the implementation of EU legislation does not rule out exclusivity. Nevertheless, as was pointed out by AG Wahl, the case law “begs the question: when is an area sufficiently covered by EU rules to exclude Member State competences to act externally?” (para 130 of the opinion) By inference, to what extent does the EU have to exercise its internal competence to trigger the “ERTA effect”?

Green Network and Opinion 3/15 suggest that the Court will place much greater emphasis on the effects of international agreements on common EU rules, rather than on the extent of their material overlap. Even if the EU law in place specifies residual Member State powers, and is therefore, arguably, not largely harmonised, (adverse) affects on the EU’s internal legal framework suffice to trigger implied exclusivity within the meaning of Art. 3 (2) TFEU. However, if the Member States may be pre-empted where an agreement is only partially covered by EU internal legislation, may they be also pre-empted where the EU cannot exercise its internal competence at all, provided always that the envisaged agreement clearly affects the EU law in force? The Court is expected to answer this question in its pending Opinion 2/15 on the conclusion of the EU-Singapore Free Trade Agreement (discussed here). Here, among other things, the Court is asked to determine whether the “ERTA effect” may exceptionally be triggered by EU primary law provisions.

The Court’s clarification of the scope of Art. 207 (1) TFEU, and in particular, “commercial aspects of IPR”, might also have some impact on future EU treaty-making. Opinion 3/15 shows that the mere exchange of goods or services cross-border is not enough to equate a measure with international trade for commercial purposes. Instead, a link with trade implies that the transaction or activity aims at fulfilling a commercial objective. By inference, using trade as a mean to fulfil non-commercial objectives is not enough to bring a measure within the scope of the CCP. While the Court did not entirely exclude that “commerce” may, on a case-by-case basis, include trade on a non-profit basis, it contrasted AG Wahl’s suggestion that Art. 207 TFEU generally encompasses transaction or activities of a non-commercial nature. In view of Opinion 2/15, which also raises this issue, it may be noted that the Court did not dispute the AG’s claim that moral rights fall outside the scope of the CCP.

When returning to the Marrakesh Treaty, Opinion 3/15 leaves another pressing question unanswered: What is the correct legal basis for the agreement’s conclusion? The Court only clarifies that the Council Decision on the signature of the Marrakesh Treaty was wrongfully based on Art. 207 TFEU, but does not further elaborate on the correct choice of legal basis. It is true that the Commission’s preliminary question is confined to the exclusive nature of the agreement. The choice of legal basis, nevertheless, qualifies the modus operandi of (exclusive) EU treaty-making. In particular, the Court refrains from discussing AG Wahl’s reference to Art.  19 (1) TFEU, and, more broadly, the effects of the non-discrimination principle on EU external action. Whilst clarifying the EU’s capacity to conclude the agreement alone, the choice of legal basis – and therefore the choice of procedure – is left to the discretion of the EU institutions. Throughout the proceedings, the Commission continued to assert that the Marrakesh Treaty should be based on Art. 114 TFEU instead of Art. 19 TFEU. Conversely, the majority of the intervening Member States sided with the AG. As the use of Art. 19 (1) TFEU would trigger unanimous Council voting, and therefore Member State veto powers in the Council, institutional debate over the conclusion of the Marrakesh Treaty might continue.
Barnard & Peers: chapter 24

Photo credit: 1709 Blog

Saturday, 17 September 2016

Public wi-fi and liability for illegal downloads: the CJEU judgment in McFadden




Lorna Woods, Professor of Internet Law, University of Essex

Is a business which offers free wi-fi to its customers liable if they download content unlawfully? That was the main issue in the recent CJEU judgment in McFadden, a rare case on Article 12 of the EU’s eCommerce Directive, which provides that the provider of an information society service is not liable for the transmission of information if it is a ‘mere conduit’ (as further defined) of that information.  While must of the decision seems to fit well into existing law on intermediaries and the provisions of services in general, there are a couple of potentially unexpected developments: those relating to costs for injunctive relief; and the requirements of those providing access to the Internet.

Facts

McFadden runs a lighting and sound system shop in which he offers free access to a wi-fi network to the general public in order to draw the attention of potential customers to his goods and services.  This network was used to download some content unlawfully. The question was whether McFadden was indirectly liable (for not making his network secure) or whether he could rely on intermediary immunity from liability contained in the e-Commerce Directive.

Judgment

The first requirement for someone to be able to rely on the e-Commerce Directive is to show that that body is an information society service provider within the terms of the Directive.  The problem here is that the wi-fi was provided free of charge, so does McFadden provide an economic service to bring himself within the TFEU?

The key requirement is that a service is one which is ‘normally provided for remuneration’ (as found in the case law on Article 57 TFEU, which defines ‘services’ for free movement purposes, as well as Article 1(2) of Directive 98/34, which sets out rules on consulting about new technical barriers to information society services).  Referring to Recital 18 of the e-commerce directive, the Court confirmed that under a proper interpretation of the definition of ‘information society service’ in Article 12(1) of the directive, ‘cover only those services normally provided for remuneration’ (para 39).

Applying this principle to this context, the Court noted “it does not follow that a service of an economic nature performed free of charge may under no circumstances constitute an ‘information society service’” (para 41).  For example, the service may be paid for by a third party, as is the case in free to air television which is often financed through advertising revenue rather than viewer subscription.  Here McFadden was providing the service as an advertising technique, so the Court concluded that the provision of wi-fi fell within Article 12 (para 43).

The Court then considered the application of Article 12. The national court recognised that a first requirement would be the transmission of content, but questioned whether other conditions – notably the existence of a contractual relationship – would also be required.  The Court confirmed that transmission is required and – following the wording of the recital 42 – that the activity of transmission as a ‘mere conduit’ is of a mere technical, automatic and passive nature (para 48).  While the Court accepted that there might be an interpretation of the German language version that suggested the existence of further requirements, there was no such aspect in other language versions.  In the interests of a uniform interpretation of the directive across the various language versions, the Court concluded that there were no further conditions to be satisfied (para 54).

The next question related to the types of immunity from liability, the provisions in relation to mere conduit, caching and hosting being expressed in slightly different terms.  So while Article 14 requires a host to act expeditiously on becoming aware of illegal content to continue to benefit from immunity, there is no such requirement in Article 12.  The Court suggested (as the Advocate General had done) that this difference may result from the different nature of the services provided. In particular, a host may have greater opportunity to identify illegal content than a mere conduit.  On this basis, the Court thought it inappropriate to imply a condition that a mere conduit should be required to act expeditiously into Article 12 (para 65).

The national court further questioned whether Article 12(1), read in conjunction with Article 2(b), was to be interpreted as meaning that there were additional conditions beyond that in Article 12 to which a service provider providing access to a communication network would be subject.  Again, the Court rejected this proposition on the basis that it should not disturb the balance between the various interests achieved by the legislature (para 68-69).

The Court then considered the type of relief which an injured third party might claim, and particularly whether such a party could seek injunctive relief against a mere conduit.  While Article 12 precludes a damages claim, and claims for costs (paras 74-75), according Article 12(3) a national court may order the mere conduit to take action to end the infringement of copyright (para 76), notably injunctive relief.  Costs in respect of such an action may be claimed (para 78).

The next set of questions concerned the measures that might be required of a mere conduit, given the relevance of Article 17(2) of the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights (EUCFR) (right to intellectual property), Article 16 EUCFR (right to conduct a business), and Article 11 EUCFR (freedom of expression).  The Court, adopting a margin of appreciation style approach, recognised that in case of conflict of rights it is for the national authorities to ensure a fair balance of interests (citing the CJEU ruling in Promusicae) (para 83).  The national court envisaged three possible measures McFadden could take:

-          examining all communications passing through an internet connection,
-          terminating that connection or
-          password-protecting it.

Article 15 precludes requiring intermediaries to monitor traffic and therefore the first obligation would be contrary to the  terms of the eCommerce Directive. Requiring McFadden to terminate the connection would constitute a serious interference with his rights to run a business under Article 16 EUCFR and so cannot be considered as reaching a ‘fair balance’ (paras 88-89). The third measure also constitutes a restriction of Article 16 as well as the Article 11 rights of users. In neither instance, however, is the essence of the right undermined.  The Court noted that ‘the measure adopted must be strictly targeted, in the sense that it must serve to bring an end to a third party’s infringement of copyright or of a related right but without thereby affecting the possibility of internet users lawfully accessing information using the provider’s services’, as otherwise the measure would – following the CJEU ruling in UPC Wien – be disproportionate (para 93).  Securing the network by password protecting it (but not blocking access to any particular content)

‘may dissuade the users of that connection from infringing copyright or related rights, provided that those users are required to reveal their identity in order to obtain the required password and may not therefore act anonymously’ (para 96).

Given that this third option is the only possible option, not securing the network would result in the right to intellectual property being deprived of any protection. Requiring password protection therefore strikes a fair balance.

Comment

In terms of following its Advocate General to find a free service to fall within the scope of the e-Commerce Directive (and indeed the treaty framework) the Court’s approach is not unexpected.  This is a long-standing approach of the Court in relation to services in general – indeed the Court refers to old television jurisprudence as authority – and also follows its approach in Papasavvas (C-291/13), which related to an online service which was funded through advertising revenue, rather than direct payments by users. 

This approach is potentially necessary in the context of the Internet, where many services are provided ‘free’ but in actual fact paid for by advertising or other secondary uses of user data.  Nonetheless, it is worth noting that in McFadden there was some economic context: McFadden was using the offer of free wi-fi as a form of advertisement.  The extent to which some such connection is required has not been addressed.  The Advocate General noted that 'there is no need to consider whether the scope of Directive 2000/31 [the e-commerce Directive] might also extend to the operation of such a network in circumstances where there is no other economic context' (para 50).  The Court did not address this at all.

The judgment contains little new as far as the conditions for the application of Article 12 are concerned, though it is perhaps useful to have the confirmation that further conditions should not be implied into the Directive. 

The Court determined that Article 12 (and presumably also Articles 13 and 14) give protection against costs – which as the Advocate General noted – could be as punitive as damages themselves.  Note however the distinction between an action for damages and an action for injunctive relief.  Article 12 does not protect an intermediary from being on the receiving end of an injunction, and the prohibition on costs does not extend to costs incurred in relation to given notice or an action for an injunction.  This is a difference in approach from that of the Advocate General and may be significant for those companies which have challenged injunctions.  The litigation in England and Wales in regard to blocking injunctions for trademarks in Cartier may be a case in point.

The extent to which intermediaries are under an obligation to put an end to infringing behaviour by end users has been the subject of much discussion and this judgment is useful in bringing some clarity.  The Court locates this discussion within the framework of fundamental rights, and starts off by indicating that this is a matter for national authorities – seemingly taking a leaf out of the Strasbourg court’s book on margin of appreciation. In practice, however, the Court gives a pretty clear steer to the national court on the ‘right’ outcome and in this there is a marked difference between its approach and that of the Advocate General.  Both agree that the first two possible measures are not possible. The Advocate General took the view at para 145 of his opinion that imposing security obligations

'would not in itself be effective, and thus its appropriateness and proportionality remain open to question'.

He also thought that forcing password protection could discourage or hinder usage of the WiFi service, undermining the business model of the operator. In contrast, the Court stated that the password protecting of the network is permissible; indeed, it could be seen as suggesting that the enforcement of copyright requires the network to be protected as the only means to protect Article 16. Does this suggest that all networks would be required to impose such measures on the chance that someone might use them to infringe copyright? On that basis, this judgment could have worrying implications for anonymity on the Internet, and certainly may have implications for the development of wi-fi/public access services.


Photo credit: www.amazon.co.uk