This story was first published for the 1709 Blog, where I regularly write about copyright law in entertainment, technology and media. The Alliance for Creativity in Entertainment (ACE), an industry coalition of global entertainment companies and film studios, together with Netflix and Amazon, has secured a major legal victory
From 1 October, the Intellectual Property (Unjustified Threats) Act 2017 offers new protection for professional advisers (including lawyers) involved in certain intellectual property disputes. If the owner of a trade mark, patent or design thinks someone else is using their intellectual property without permission, they may be tempted
Last week, the New York Times filed a lawsuit against Contessa Bourbon for causing substantial damage and injury to the paper’s business, goodwill and reputation. Despite having never worked for the Times, Contessa has been representing herself as one of their reporters – both in person, and on social media. According to the lawsuit, Bourbon pretends to be a NYT reporter to gain access to press events: she recently interviewed US Education Secretary Betsy DeVos and the Turkish Ambassador under such pretenses. Despite receiving cease and desist letters from the Times previously, Bourbon continues her charade. She tweets about articles she claims to have written for the paper, and her profiles on Facebook, LinkedIn, and Instagram state that she is a NYT reporter. However, with the exception of impersonating police officers or medical doctors (and in England, solicitors), simply pretending to be someone you’re not isn’t technically illegal. The problem impersonators and poseurs face is when they (almost inevitably) break laws concerning privacy matters, defamation, criminal fraud – or, in the NYT’s case – intellectual property.
In October 1960, a jury formed at the criminal court in central London was asked to consider what would become one of the most important cases in modern English history. The trial concerned neither murder, treason, nor espionage, but the publication of D. H. Lawrence's Lady Chatterley's Lover by Penguin Books. In honour of Lord Jeremy Hutchinson QC, a member of the Penguin defence team who passed away yesterday, here is a reminder of why Regina v. Penguin Books was such an enormous decision for the freedom of expression.First published in 1928, Lady Chatterley's Lover tells the story of a young married woman, Lady Constance Chatterley. Her husband, Sir Clifford Chatterley, is handsome and wealthy, but paralysed from the waist down after injuring himself in the First World War. In addition to his physical (read: sexual) limitations, Clifford neglects Constance emotionally: her frustration leads to her affair with the estate's gamekeeper, Oliver. A particular sex scene and liberal use of strong language including "fuck" and "cunt" led to it being banned in several countries.
this post is featured on the University of the Arts London's intellectual property blog, creativeIP.org
♫♬ Now we've got problems / and I don't think we can solve them (without lawyers...)The right to freedom of expression is not an absolute right: there are certain restrictions in place to protect an individual's reputation. But those restrictions vary significantly, depending on which side of the Atlantic you're on. Considering the shared legal traditions of the United States and Great Britain, their differences on the issue of free speech is surprising. In early September, PopFront published an article entitled "Swiftly to the alt-right: Taylor subtly gets the lower case kkk in formation." Exploring the singer's (somewhat convoluted, if not contrived) connections to the American alt-right, PopFront suggests Swift's song "Look What You Made Me Do" resonates with Breitbart readers, Trump supporters, and white supremacists, et al. The article also shows a screenshot from Swift's music video juxtaposed with a photo of Hitler, noting that "Taylor lords over an army of models from a podium, akin to what Hitler had in Nazi Germany."