Matt Blaszczyk

Works generated by artificial intelligence (AI) are flooding the market, leading to anxieties about the future of human creativity. Legal institutions have begun to respond. The U.S. Copyright Office has recognized the requirement of human authorship, under which copyright protection attaches only to works authored by human beings. The Office has framed this requirement in explicitly humanist rhetoric, presenting it as a means of protecting human creators in the AI era, safeguarding their economic well-being, and preserving artistic quality. This Article makes three arguments. First, the requirement of human authorship is likely to be of limited practical significance. Given the famously low threshold for copyright protection, the indeterminacy of authorship doctrine, and the exceptions and qualifications the Office itself has identified, the requirement is unlikely to meaningfully constrain the production or protection of AI-aided works. Second, precisely because the requirement is practically weak, its primary function is rhetorical. It serves to rehabilitate the public image of copyright law, strengthen the institutional authority of the Copyright Office, and preserve an appearance of doctrinal coherence in a field shaped by intense lobbying and judicial inconsistency. This newly articulated humanism, however, obscures a longer history in which copyright law has largely failed to protect human creators’ material interests, while consistently favoring powerful corporate actors. For more than a century, corporations have been not only the dominant owners of copyrights, but also, in many cases, their legal authors. In other words, humanism functions as an ideology to which copyright law is only nominally committed. Third, this Article argues that nominal humanism is unsatisfactory. The requirement of human authorship—on which the self-proclaimed humanists have focused—does not resolve the hard problems of protectability raised by AI, offers false assurances to human creators, incorporates formalistic and hierarchical tendencies in approaching AI-assisted works, and projects a human-centered vision of copyright at a moment when many human authors are increasingly unable to sustain themselves through creative labor. Most troublingly, it is hypocritical with regard to corporate authorship. If the Office, alongside courts and scholars, seeks to reorient copyright in genuinely humanist terms, and propose an alternative to pragmatic visions of copyright, such a project cannot remain symbolic. It must instead entail substantive reform. The Article concludes by identifying several starting points for such a reorientation. Until institutions are willing to meaningfully support human authors, they should abandon the pretense that copyright law already does so.

In an important new Article, titled A Matter of Facts: The Evolution of the Copyright Fact-Exclusion and Its Implications for Disinformation and Democracy, Professor Jessica Silbey argues provocatively that we “‘only” know that facts are excluded from copyright protection because Feist Publications v. Rural Telephone Service “says so.” She argues that both the nature and importance of facts has been underdefined and is in flux, nonetheless tracing it to the foundational cases of United States (U.S.) copyright law, and argues for a stronger exclusion of facts, which are publici juris, and belong in the public domain. This central thesis is most agreeable, as is her analysis of doctrine and legislative history. The Article’s rich study of American pragmatism, legal realism, the Cambridge school of analytic philosophy, and the “new social scientists,” which Professor Silbey uses to support a strong fact-exclusion, is a tour de force. The Article ends with a list of proposals for a strong Feist application to evaluations, catalogs, manuals, and legal documents. It also includes a call not to allow for industrial dilution of copyright’s framework, including the facts and ideas exclusion. Both are laudable and timely in the era of generative artificial intelligence (AI), where proposals to protect non-authorial quasi-expression or to prevent copying of non-expressive subject matter abound. While I agree with a call for a robust public domain and strong fact-exclusion, and devote Part II of this Response to explore further doctrinal grounds for them, in Part III I explore Silbey’s argument that “pragmatist philosophy’s challenge to universal truths combined with legal realist challenges to formalist jurisprudence eventually shape what is (or should be) copyright law’s broad public domain in ‘facts.’” It is not immediately clear if pragmatism and realism are a solid ground for justifying strong legal principles and axioms. Engaging with this provocative argument allows us to uncover what realism means to Professor Silbey and the much more radical consequences of her arguments. Part IV concludes.

Authors have written of antitrust’s demise in the face of blockchain technology which, supposedly, achieves the goals of the law, through private ordering, without a need for the law. Most importantly of all, public permissionless blockchains offer the vision of disintermediation – the end of the platform economy troubling many scholars today. At the same time, blockchain technology presents challenges to the doctrine and enforcement of antitrust. Finally, blockchain community governance allows for private ordering of antitrust, i.e., enforcement of rules attempting to protect competition, which are at the same time illegal, not coming from the courts or agencies they constitute competition wrongs themselves. I argue that all three claims are overstated and propose a synthesis of the law and code. The legal doctrine can be modified to tackle the novel technological landscape quite easily, with adoption of novel legal fictions. This is necessary since blockchains – both public and even more so private ones – while ingenious, do not remove a need for the law to protect the market from anti-competitive conduct. Indeed, even public ledgers have power structures allowing for abuse, while private blockchains may, in fact, allow for its proliferation. The law, thus, needs to find a regulatory access point to the ledgers. This is not an easy task: however, cooperation of blockchains with the law, and encoding of antitrust rules on the ledgers themselves, offers a possibility of a reconciliation between the law and the code. At the same time, this lends legitimacy to pro-competitive actions of those cyberspace communities and ensures a preservation of the rule of law. This is the blockchain antitrust synthesis.

Recently, the United Kingdom Supreme Court decided that only natural persons can be considered inventors. A year before, the United States Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit issued a similar decision. In fact, so have many the courts all over the world. This Article analyses these decisions, argues that the courts got it right, and finds that artificial inventorship is at odds with patent law doctrine, theory, and philosophy. The Article challenges the intellectual property (IP) post-humanists, exposing the analytical and normative perils of their argumentation, and recommends against getting rid of the nominally central place of humans in the law. This response to IP post-humanism rests in equal measure on patent doctrine, legal causation, and the mythology which creates and justifies the law.

Several states have enacted specialized limited liability company legislation in an attempt to attract decentralized autonomous organizations. In this way, the regulatory competition debate surrounding states such as Wyoming, Tennessee, and Vermont, attempting to dethrone Delaware, has found a new battleground. According to Professor Lynn LoPucki, this will entail a regulatory race to the bottom, that is, a race to “laxity.” I disagree. In fact, deregulation has already been achieved in the traditional limited liability company form. The decentralized autonomous organization limited liability company is no laxer or more attractive to investors, who will likely prefer the traditional limited liability company or even other entity forms, given the diversity of investors’ needs and aims. Moreover, some decentralized autonomous organization organizers may wish not to incorporate at all, hoping to avoid the law altogether. While increasingly risky, this strategy rests on the belief in the alegality liability shield, further diminishing the impact of the lex specialis approach. After analyzing the statutory developments and the scholarly and industrial commentary, I conclude that in decentralized autonomous organizations, as elsewhere, the regulatory race to the bottom is a fad.

Protection of emergent works is impossible. Without an author, there is no expression of ideas which can be original, and thus no copyrightable work. Indeed, the whole system of copyright law, its conceptual building blocks of idea-expression dichotomy, originality, authorship, and the concept of a protectable work operate in the notation of human creativity. Emergent works fall outside of copyright’s positive ontology, being akin to ideas, facts, or subject-matter predicated by technical considerations, rather than authorial creativity. In other words, they do not exist as things in law and thus cannot as such be owned. Rather, like any idea, they can be transformed through creative expression of an author–– possibly becoming works, but also not being authorless or emergent anymore. This is argued as a matter of the U.S. and EU legal doctrines, the international framework, and copyright theory.

The Section 230 debate is a proxy for reevaluating constitutional fundamentals. The modern right and the modern left, both attacking Section 230, have abandoned liberalism, together with free speech, public private divide, and the politics of neutrality. Instead of believing in First Amendment value pluralism, each side of the spectrum wishes to realize their own positive normative vision for the political community which, today, is largely defined in the realm of digital culture. Each side recognizes the political other as an enemy to their own utopia, wishing to control, censor, or simply become sovereign thereover. These existential politics of the “culture war” are formally circumscribed by liberal constitutionalism, including the state action doctrine. Regardless of any formal change of the First Amendment interpretation, the government will continue to exercise soft pressures on platforms, thus outsourcing censorship, and creating a novel regulatory dialectic of pressure and cooperation. The government, to become truly sovereign, realize its normative vision, and exclude the other, needs to delegate part of its sovereignty to virtual governments. The Constitution of the United States may thus be undergoing an informal amendment conducted through the private hands of internet intermediaries, which has largely gone unnoticed in the scholarly debate over Gonzalez v. Google, digital sovereignty, and platform regulation.