By Jonathan Corbet
March 20, 2013
At first blush, the case of
Kirtsaeng v. John Wiley & Sons looks
like an obscure battle over the marketing of textbooks in the US with
little relevance to the free software community. But one need not look
deeply to realize that the US Supreme Court's recent
ruling
[PDF] has some interesting implications. For years, it appeared that
there was no resistance to increased use of copyright law to protect
threatened business models. With the ruling in this case, the power of
copyright holders has been pushed back slightly, and an important right has
been reaffirmed.
The case in question starts with Supap Kirtsaeng, who figured out that he
could buy textbooks in Thailand for resale in the US.
Those books are sold much more cheaply in Thailand, offering a classic
opportunity for arbitrage and a quick profit. The publisher of those
books, John Wiley & Sons, sued, claiming that importing those books
into the US was a violation of its copyright, despite the fact that the
books had been legitimately published and sold in Thailand with Wiley's
permission.
Kirtsaeng responded that the books, like most copyrighted materials, were
covered by the first sale doctrine; once Wiley had sold the books, it had
exhausted its right to control their fate.
Wiley's interesting claim in this case was that first sale does not apply to
items that
are manufactured outside of the US. Appeals courts in the US agreed with
this position, but the Supreme Court did not. Its conclusion (by a 6-3
ruling) was that the place of manufacture and sale was not relevant to
copyright law and that the import and resale of the books was a legal
activity. So, for now, the first sale doctrine lives and cannot be
eliminated simply by manufacturing an object abroad.
This ruling matters for a couple of reasons. One is that software, too, is
covered by copyright law, and it is often included in products manufactured
all over the world. Copyright law is often used in an attempt to control
what can be done with a larger product; the implications of eliminating
first-sale rights on products with important copyrightable components
could open the door
to no end of possible horrors. Consider, for example, the following text from
the decision:
Technology companies tell us that “automobiles, microwaves,
calculators, mobile phones, tablets, and personal computers”
contain copyrightable software programs or packaging. Many of
these items are made abroad with the American copyright holder’s
permission and then sold and imported (with that permission) to the
United States. A geographical interpretation would prevent the
resale of, say, a car, without the permission of the holder of each
copyright on each piece of copyrighted automobile software. Yet
there is no reason to believe that foreign auto manufacturers
regularly obtain this kind of permission from their software
component suppliers, and Wiley did not indicate to the contrary
when asked. Without that permission a foreign car owner could not
sell his or her used car.
The logic that applies to a car also applies to just about any sort of
electronic gadget that one can imagine — contemporary cars, after all, can
be thought of as rather heavy electronic entertainment systems with
self-propulsion capabilities and a problematic carbon footprint. It is a
rare device indeed that doesn't
contain copyrightable pieces imported from somewhere; the thought that all
of those devices remain under the control of the copyright holder is
discouraging at best. This ruling does not eliminate that threat (see
below), but it mitigates it somewhat.
Copyright law is often employed for the protection of business models.
Over 100 years ago, music publishers claimed that player pianos were a
threat to their existence and a violation of their copyrights; the attempts
to use copyright to keep business models alive have continued ever since. So it
is refreshing to see the Supreme Court state that there is no inherent
right to protection for a specific business model:
Wiley and the dissent claim that a nongeographical interpretation
will make it difficult, perhaps impossible, for publishers (and
other copyright holders) to divide foreign and domestic markets. We
concede that is so. A publisher may find it more difficult to
charge different prices for the same book in different geographic
markets. But we do not see how these facts help Wiley, for we can
find no basic principle of copyright law that suggests that
publishers are especially entitled to such rights.
We still live in a world where publishers feel entitled to exactly such
rights: the use of the CSS encryption scheme (and associated legal battles)
to divide the DVD market is an obvious example. Perhaps it is optimistic
to hope that a statement from the highest court in the US that such rights
do not inherently adhere to a specific business model will improve the
situation. But, then, your editor tends toward optimism.
That said, there is plenty of space for pessimism as well; the upholding of
first sale does not make our copyright-related problems magically vanish.
Much of the industry appears to be headed in directions where first sale
does not seem to apply — electronic books being an obvious
example. The use of DRM schemes to restrict first-sale rights continues,
and other aspects of copyright law (such as the DMCA in the US) support
that use. The DMCA also remains useful for companies trying to restrict
what the "owner" of a device can do with it; the debate over
jailbreaking is one example. Online or "cloud-based" resources are
subject
to no end of restrictions of their own.
And so on.
But, then, nobody ever said that the fight for freedom would be easy. One
Supreme Court victory is not going to change that situation. But it is an
important affirmation that copyright is meant to be a limited right
and not a means for absolute control by copyright holders. Those of us who
are users of copyrighted materials (i.e. all of us) have some rights too.
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