Regulating the Raunchy? A look at free speech and obscenity under Miller v. California

Regulating the Raunchy? A look at free speech and obscenity under Miller v. California

One of the most interesting aspects of being a technology lawyer is that it necessarily requires a strong understanding of Internet regulation and digital rights, including the right to express yourself online.  As such, free speech is one of my favourite areas of legal history and theory.  Coincidentally, two major US Supreme Court cases regarding free speech were decided on this day —  21 June!

This post takes a look at one of them: Miller v. California [1973].  In a later post, I’ll explore a second landmark free speech case decided on 21 June: Texas v. Johnson [1989].

The Constitution in Court.  

Most people know that the First Amendment of the US Constitution protects freedom of speech. However, it’s actually a bit more complicated than many would guess. In its entirety, the First Amendment says:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

Putting the aspects regarding religion, assembly, and petitions to one side, what this Amendment essentially does is prohibit the government from prohibiting freedom of speech. But what does that look like in practice?

Of course, we cannot travel back in time to 1789 to ask James Madison what he meant when he drafted the Bill of Rights. Instead, American Courts have over time developed various methodologies to apply modern facts to something written 230 years ago.

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Miller v. California – to what extent can the government regulate porn, and why should we care?

The case of Miller v. California, 413 U.S. 15 (1973) concerns pornography and whether or not the government is allowed to regulate obscene material. Marvin Miller was the owner/operator of a California mail-order business specializing in pornographic films and books. When his company’s brochures were sent to and opened by a restaurant owner in Newport Beach, California, the restaurant owner called the police. Miller was subsequently arrested and charged with violating California Penal Code § 311.2, which is paraphrased below:

Every person who knowingly sends into California for sale or distribution, or in this state possesses, prepares, publishes, with intent to distribute or to exhibit to others, any obscene matter is guilty of a misdemeanor.

The jury at Miller’s trial in State court had been instructed to consider the pornographic materials in question, and determine if they were “obscene.” The jury decided that they were, and Miller was found guilty. Because he objected with the way in which the jury had arrived at this conclusion, he appealed the decision to the Supreme Court.

Although the Supreme Court ultimately vacated the earlier jury verdict and remanded the case back to the California Superior Court, the matter became a landmark decision and the basis for what is now known as the Miller Test.

Writing the majority opinion, Chief Justice Burger reaffirmed in Miller that obscenity can be regulated by the government, because it is “unprotected speech.” Referring to Roth v United States (1957) and other similar cases, Justice Burger explained that obscenity was not within the area of constitutionally protected freedom of speech either under the First Amendment, or the Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment. “In the light of history,” Justice Brennan had said in Roth, “it is apparent that the unconditional phrasing of the First Amendment was not intended to protect every utterance.”

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Legal Fun Fact:  The first conviction for obscenity in Great Britain occurred in 1727. Edmund Curll was convicted for publishing erotic fiction titled “Venus in the Cloister or The Nun in her Smock” under the common law offence of disturbing the King’s peace. 

Now that we are clear that the First Amendment does not protect obscenity, the next question is obviously therefore: what is obscenity?  

In Miller, Justice Burger acknowledged the inherent dangers of regulating any form of expression, and said that “State statutes designed to regulate obscene materials must be carefully limited.” As a result, the Supreme Court was tasked with confining “the permissible scope of such regulation to works which depict or describe sexual conduct.”

This brings us to Burger’s three-part test for juries in obscenity cases. Obscenity is now defined as something: (1) the average person, applying contemporary community standards, would find appeals to a prurient interest; (2) which depicts or describes, in a patently offensive way, sexual conduct; and (3) whether the work lacks serious literary, artistic, political, or scientific (or “SLAPS”) value. In short, obscenity must satisfy as the prurient interest, patently offensive, and SLAPS prongs.

The Miller test changed the way courts define obscenity, and accordingly, what does – or does not – deserve protection as “free speech.”  

This Miller obscenity test overturned the Court’s earlier definition of obscenity established in Memoirs v Massachusetts (1966). In Memoirs, the Court had decided that obscenity was material which was “patently offensive and utterly without redeeming social value.” Furthermore, the Memoirs decision made clear that “all ideas having even the slightest redeeming social importance have the full protection of the guaranties [of the First Amendment]”.

By adopting the Miller decision, the Supreme Court departed from Memoirs in favour of a more conservative and narrow interpretation of the types of speech which qualify for First Amendment protection. Rather than considering obscenity as simply that which is “utterly without redeeming social value” of any kind, obscenity is now a subjective standard. This offers wider discretion to State legislatures and police agencies, as well as prosecutors and jurors, to decide whether material is “obscene” under local community standards.

Not everyone agrees!  Unsurprisingly, the Miller decision was a narrow one, and split the Court 5-4.

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Chief Justice Burger wrote the majority opinion, with Justice Douglas penning the dissent.

Justice William O. Douglas wrote the dissent and, at the risk of sounding like a total legal geek, I highly suggest taking a quick read of it! One of my favourite excerpts is as follows:

The idea that the First Amendment permits government to ban publications that are “offensive” to some people puts an ominous gloss on freedom […] The First Amendment was designed “to invite dispute,” to induce “a condition of unrest,” to “create dissatisfaction with conditions as they are,” and even to stir “people to anger.” The idea that the First Amendment permits punishment for ideas that are “offensive” to the particular judge or jury sitting in judgment is astounding. 

Nevertheless, despite the dissent and criticism, the Miller test remains the federal and state standard for deciding what obscene. However, the rise of the Internet has complicated matters, not least because the concept of “community standards” is difficult to define given how interconnected we are today.

What do you think? After nearly 50 years, should the Supreme Court reconsider what “obscenity” means? Is the Miller Test due for an update?

Have European laws improved American privacy protections?

Have European laws improved American privacy protections?

The European Union’s landmark data privacy law, the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR) went into effect one year ago this week. By now, the implications for European residents and companies are fairly well known. Many of us will have received updated privacy policies in our email inboxes, or become increasingly aware of headline-grabbing stories on mass data breaches. But what about beyond the borders of Europe? Has GDPR changed the way in which data protection and privacy matters are viewed in the United States? 

The first thing to consider is whether GDPR has the power to influence how American companies handle data. The answer is yes. The GDPR is a single legal framework that applies across all 28 EU member states – including, for the time being, the United Kingdom. But in a considerable departure from the old Data Protection Directive (95/46/EC), the GDPR imposes an expanded territorial scope beyond the EU itself. No matter where they are located around the world, companies must comply with the GDPR if they either offer goods or services to European residents, or monitor their behavior (see, inter alia, Recital 22).

These new regulations are not without teeth. Whereas fines under the previous directive generally maxed out at £500,000, fines under GDPR can reach up to 20 million euros or 4% of a breaching company’s global turnover. Accordingly, from 25 May 2018, many American companies became subject to European privacy laws for the first time, and faced considerably enhanced sanctions for noncompliance.

As a result, in the lead-up to GDPR taking effect, many Europeans were geo-blocked from accessing American websites. The reason? If European customers were blocked from accessing the websites, the companies would not technically be “offering their goods or services” to Europeans, nor would they be “monitoring their behavior”.

Although the majority of companies retreating from Europe were small to medium-sized technology companies, others included global names such as the Los Angeles Times (US small businesses drop EU customers over new data rule, Financial Times).

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The other approach taken by US companies was to move data centres and servers from Europe to the United States. Facebook made headlines by shifting data concerning more than 1.5 billion users from Ireland to its main offices in California. Although Facebook told Reuters that it applies “the same privacy protections everywhere, regardless of whether your agreement is with Facebook Inc [California] or Facebook Ireland,” representatives from the social media giant noted that “EU law requires specific language” in mandated privacy notices, whereas American law does not.

Has the GDPR made Europe “too chilled” for American tech companies? It is important to note that users impacted by Facebook’s server relocation mentioned above were non-EU users. Furthermore, the data migration does not release Facebook from its obligation to comply with the GDPR, insofar as European users are concerned. Nevertheless, the relocation underscores the point that the United States is often seen as a more friendly home for companies seeking fewer, less stringent privacy regulations.

Several companies which initially fled the long-armed reach of the GDPR have returned to Europe, albeit with significantly changed privacy notices and data protection practices. However, many have stayed away. Some privacy advocates will hail the departure of American tech companies who are unwilling to comply with the new privacy rules. But while it is true that privacy protection is an important and fundamental human right, it cannot be ignored that an increasing body of evidence suggests the GDPR has had a chilling effect on a wide variety of overseas companies.

According to a recent study by the Illinois Institute of Technology and the National Bureau of Economic Research, there has been an 18% decrease in the number of EU venture deals and a 40% decrease in the dollar amount per deal following GDPR implementation (The Short-Run Effects of GDPR on Technology Venture Investment).

Together with increased European regulations of the digital economy on the whole, it is arguable that lawmakers in Brussels are making it more difficult for American companies to enter the European market. Even for those that decided to remain in the EU despite the enhanced regulations, their future remains uncertain.

Will the GDPR inspire privacy laws in the United States? Given that US companies – even those located in America – must now play by European privacy rules in order to reach the EU market, it is arguable that various technology and media entities will start to impose tougher privacy standards on themselves. Such self-regulation is likely to be welcomed by technology professionals and corporate insiders, who may consider themselves better positioned than regulators and lawmakers to tackle the problems of privacy in a digital age. However, as we have seen in sectors ranging from pharmaceuticals to finance, self-regulation often falls short when it comes to consumer protection.

 

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In April 2018, Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg was called before the US Senate to answer questions over Facebook’s responsibility to safeguard user privacy and the Cambridge Analytica scandal.

For a variety of reasons which fall beyond the scope of this post, the privacy laws of the United States have developed in an ad hoc fashion. Apart from the Children’s Online Privacy Protection Act (COPPA) and the Health Insurance Portability and Accountability Act (HIPPA), few national laws exist to protect data privacy.

Instead, in the United States, companies are caught under different laws depending on which State they are headquartered in, or where they do business. Any applicable federal laws which touch on data privacy are most often to regulate specific industry sectors, such as health insurance mentioned above. Even in the wake of the Equifax data breach of summer 2017 – which affected over 145 million US consumers – attempts to improve consumer privacy protections have failed to pass in Congress.

Despite the lack of federal legislation, some American states are using their powers to pass laws at a more local level. One such state is California, which happens to boast both the world’s fifth largest economy, as well as one of the most impressive technology industries. Last year, California Governor Jerry Brown signed the California Consumer Privacy Act (CCPA) into law.

While at only 12 pages the law is a far cry from the obviously more comprehensive GDPR, it does grant California consumers specific rights over their personal information held by companies. Perhaps most interestingly, because the CCPA applies to any company which does business with California residents, the law will likely have a major impact on the privacy landscape across the country.

This begs the question: if the United States is in need of enhanced privacy protections, who should spearhead the endeavour? The US federal government via Congress, state legislators, or companies themselves? Some believe consumers will be better protected if Congress resists the temptation to intrude at federal level, to allow the states to experiment with their own legislation.

As we have seen in Europe, it is abundantly clear that any single privacy framework must be both flexible, as well as scalable, across a variety of industry sectors, geographies, and company types. To add to the political complexity, powerful industry players will likely lobby for special exceptions, and various federal agencies may clash over who will enforce any such regulation(s).

In conclusion, it is safe to say that the GDPR has indeed changed the way in which data protection and privacy matters are viewed outside of Europe. But the direction with which the Americans will choose to take it remains unclear.

On the one hand, some American companies have retreated from the EU. On the other, local governments have begun to take consumer privacy more seriously, by introducing new domestic data protection legislation. To find a balance between the two forces of economic enterprise and regulatory powers may be difficult. More likely, there may be a push and pull effect; whether privacy will prevail is yet to be seen.

The MPRE: my experience sitting the American legal ethics exam as an English lawyer

The MPRE: my experience sitting the American legal ethics exam as an English lawyer

The Multi-state Professional Responsibility Exam, or “ethics exam” (MRPE) is one of three exams required in order to practice law in an American state (more on that here). Having just taken the exam, here are my thoughts as an English-trained solicitor currently practicing in London. 

🌟 UPDATE: I passed the exam! I exceeded the score I needed for California.

For more information on how the United States and English legal systems compare, read my post “Lawyering in America and England”. 

Introduction to the MPRE

The MPRE tests a prospective lawyer’s understanding of professional ethics regulation in the United States. The questions are based on the Model Rules of Professional Conduct (MRPC). The MPRE is a 60-item (50 scored questions and 10 non-scored questions), two-hour multiple-choice examination administered three times each year at established test centers across the country. You must pass the MPRE before you can be admitted to practice in the United States, but you can take it anytime after completing their first year of law school (including after sitting the bar exam itself).

I chose to sit the exam in New York City because: 1) it’s easiest to get to from London and 2) my husband works for a NY headquartered company, so he was able to meet up with colleagues while we were there. My score will be sent to my jurisdiction of choice, which happens to be California.

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I took the exam at Pace University in Manhattan. My only complaint was that the individual desks were really tiny, but other than that, it was a good test day experience. 

Test day

On the morning of the exam, I woke up at about 5AM: this was due to still being on “London time” and somewhat jet-lagged! I bought some coffee and brought it back to the hotel room, and spent about an hour doing some last minute cursory revision.

At 8AM, I walked the three blocks to the testing centre at Pace University. The reporting time was at 8:15, and there was already a massive queue of students and prospective lawyers outside. We were held in the queue for about 30 minutes, and I enjoyed chatting to a few people about our various career stages. I even spoke to a young guy who was resitting the exam after failing it previously. It’s important to maintain some perspective: failing isn’t the end of the world!

At 8:45AM we began to stream into the building, where people were turned away for having backpacks (the rules clearly state NO BAGS). At one point a test invigilator said, “if you have cellphones, don’t tell me about them! Just make sure they’re turned off and hidden away!” Phones, like bags, are also forbidden – but I suppose there was a slightly more lenient approach to having them on this occasion.

We then went through the process of having our admission tickets checked against our ID, and sent into our testing rooms. At Pace, we sat in small classrooms with about 20 people per room: there wasn’t any assigned seating, it was simply done on a first-come, first-seated basis.

By 9AM, everyone in my room was seated and the door was closed. The invigilator read instructions about the exam, and we had a few minutes to fill out the various bubbles with our names and other bits of information. At 9:10AM we were permitted to break open the seal of our papers and begin.

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The day before the exam, I spent a few hours studying in the famous Rose Reading Room at the New York Public Library

Preparation

I probably invested about 50 hours in studying for the MPRE over the course of two months. That time also includes “passive studying,” such as listening to MPRE lectures while on the tube, for example.

  • I first familiarised myself with the subject matter breakdown of the exam itself, available here on the NCBE website.
  • I listened to and read the BarMax lectures, which are free for the MPRE.
  • I did a lot of practice questions, using BarMax as well as AmeriBar.
  • I read through the MRPCs on the ABA website.
  • I identified which questions were tripping me up and what Rule they related to. I then read the explanatory comments for those particular rules, also available on the ABA website.
  • I read through all of the test day instructions at least one week prior to the exam itself, so I knew exactly where to go and what to bring (for example, a passport photo in addition to ID!)

Final thoughts and tips

  • Do focus your energies on practice questions when studying! This exam is not about understanding the theory or philosophy of professional ethics. You will not be writing essays about the merits of client confidentiality!
  • Do review the commentary for rules that you want more clarity on. The commentary is far less vague than the rules, and often includes practical examples.
  • Do not underestimate this exam. Especially as a foreign lawyer, I found some of the rules a bit counter intuitive. Don’t be tempted to cram the night before: I strongly recommend dedicating 20 hours to studying for this exam if you’re an American law student, and more if you’re a foreign lawyer.
  • Do feel free to contact LSAC ahead of time at MPREinfo@LSAC.org if you have questions, including questions about test center assignments. I originally registered to take the exam in Seattle but then changed my mind. LSAC staff were very helpful and the change only took one email to initiate.
  • Do not bother trying to memorise the rules!
  • Do not worry about drinking too much coffee on the morning of the exam. You will have plenty of opportunities to use the toilet – at least I did at my centre!
  • Do manage your time. You will have two minutes per question. Some questions only took me 20 seconds to answer. My advice? Go through the exam answering everything you can on a first pass. If you come across anything that requires a bit of contemplation, write the question number down on the test booklet, and return to it later. When you go through the exam for a second time, cross off the difficult questions from your earlier list.
  • Do not be afraid to guess, if for whatever reason you can’t come up with the answer. There are no penalties for wrong answers, so just give it your best shot!

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“The Wife” and rights of attribution: an intellectual property perspective

“The Wife” and rights of attribution: an intellectual property perspective

* * * CONTAINS SPOILERS * * *

In The Wife, Glenn Close plays Joan Castleman, the steadfast and amenable wife of celebrated novelist Joseph Castleman. But when Joe wins the Nobel Prize in Literature, things start to unravel between them. Is there more to Joan’s support than meets the eye? In this post, I consider the merits of a hypothetical intellectual property dispute between the couple, and an often-neglected right in particular.

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The Wife is a 2018 film from Swedish director Björn Runge, starring Glenn Close and Jonathan Pryce. The script by Jane Anderson is based on Meg Wolitzer’s novel of the same name.

 

We first meet Joan Castleman – The Wife – the evening before her husband, celebrated novelist Joseph Castleman, wins the Nobel Prize in Literature. Praise and adoration for Joe’s prolific and highly acclaimed body of work are subsequently lavished upon him, while Joan and their two children watch on. But when the family arrives in Stockholm for the award ceremony, we begin to realise that Joe Castleman’s success rests on secrets and sacrifices.

Through the use of flashbacks to the 1950s and 1960s, we learn that Joan was a promising writer. While at college, her then-professor Joe Castleman encourages her writing, and the two eventually become romantically involved. But Joe is not content with merely lecturing about novels: he seeks to prove himself in the literary world as an author himself.

During a heated argument about his poorly written first attempt at a novel, Joe threatens to leave Joan. Desperate to keep him happy and aware of his deep desire for publication, Joan offers to “fix” Joe’s draft. Her amended version of The Walnut is published under Joe’s name, and becomes a literary sensation. For the next forty years, Joan continues to write as Joe gets all of the credit.

In Stockholm, Joan revisits The Walnut and considers the personal sacrifices she’s made in her marriage.

What makes The Wife so delicious to watch is the way in which Joan’s character transforms and gains a sense of agency. Having grown up in the sexist environs of mid-century America, Joan at first appears to have dutifully accepted her fate as an ignored, pushed-aside woman whose only roles have been “wife” and “mother.” The announcement of “Joe’s” Nobel Prize in 1996 serves as a catalyst, and through a series of small events Joan eventually gathers momentum and power – like a storm – to unleash her torrential anger. The Roger Ebert review perhaps puts it best, noting that Glenn Close’s Joan “undergoes a quietly powerful transformation from self-deprecating spouse to fiery force of nature.” The film ends on an uncertain yet quietly optimistic note, and we get the sense that Joan will reveal the truth – not only to her family, but to the public – in due course.

As I left the cinema, I found myself ruminating over Joan’s legal position. As the author of the novels, would she stand a chance at winning a copyright lawsuit?

Copyright arises automatically in original works of authorship fixed in a tangible medium of expression. This means that from the moment an author expresses something unique in a tangible way – for example, by writing it down using a typewriter – the author obtains an intellectual property right in the work.

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A young Joan (played by Glenn Close’s daughter Annie Starke) supports her husband Joe in his literary ambitions (played by Henry Lloyd).

It’s pretty clear from the story that Joe did infringe Joan’s intellectual property. Unfortunately for Joan, even if she wanted to bring some sort of copyright lawsuit against her husband Joe, is is doubtful that she would win. Whereas a “negative defense” seeks to factually disprove an element of the plaintiff’s case, an “affirmative defense” defeats or mitigates the legal consequences of the defendant’s otherwise unlawful conduct.

Put simply, in my imagined Castleman copyright lawsuit scenario, Joe’s lawyers could admit that Joe stole Joan’s work, but argue that he’s innocent in the eyes of the law. Here are three ways in which this could be possible:

  • Firstly, a lawsuit for copyright infringement must typically be filed within the applicable limitation period. The US Copyright Act requires a civil lawsuit to be filed within three years after the infringing action occurred. As such, a copyright lawsuit concerning Joan’s older novels would be practically impossible.
  • Secondly, Joan’s conduct may evidence acquiescence, or consent. This means that Joan knowingly watched Joe infringe her IPRs, but failed to raise any objection to the infringement at the time. In some instances, silence or inaction can be a form of “inferred consent.”
  • Thirdly, if Joe can prove that he infringed Joan’s copyright believing in good faith that he was entitled to do so, estoppel could apply. “Estoppel” as a term might not known by many non-lawyers, but the fundamentals are rather straightforward: a court may prevent (estop) a person from making assertions or from going back on her word, thereby preventing unconscionable conduct.

 

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While working on a definitive biography of Joe Castleman, author Nathaniel Bone (played by Christian Slater) discovers some striking discrepancies in Joe’s writing style.

Nevertheless, Joan’s cause is not a hopeless one. As evidenced by Joan’s emotional attachment and identity tied to her novels, literary and artistic work often mean much more than just the economic value they can generate. The creations can be very special to the person who first produced them, and often speak to immense emotional and intellectual effort. As a result, copyright works can be protected in ways that are different to traditional forms of property.

Moral rights are a type of non-economic rights which are considered personal to an author, in that they are inalienable and fundamental to the individual. Even if an author assigns the intellectual property rights to her novels to a third party, she will still maintain the moral rights to the work.

Chief among the moral rights is the right of attribution, which is the right of an author to be credited as the author of a work in question. Moral rights have a long history in international copyright law, and are set out in the Berne Convention for the Protection of Literary and Artistic Works, which governs international copyright law:

(1) Independently of the author’s economic rights, and even after the transfer of the said rights, the author shall have the right to claim authorship of the work and to object to any distortion, mutilation or other modification of, or other derogatory action in relation to the said work, which would be prejudicial to his honor or reputation.

Moral rights are well established in European legal systems, especially in French and German law. By contrast, moral rights in the United States have been somewhat neglected, as American law traditionally puts more significance on protecting economic interests. This has been changing in recent years however. In 2017, the US Copyright Office commenced a study to review how existing American law, including provisions found in Title 17 of the U.S. Code and other federal and state laws, protects the moral rights of attribution and integrity.

The laws which govern intellectual property rights have been forced to change in the face of challenges posed by the internet, disruptive technologies and an increasingly mobile population. Might moral rights be next on the agenda for American copyright reform? For Joan Castleman at least – whose conflict focuses almost entirely upon her identity and recognition as a writer – it’s easy to see why moral rights could be so important.

UK regulator to investigate social media influencers

UK regulator to investigate social media influencers

A number of celebrities and social media stars are being investigated by the Competition and Markets Authority, which says it has concerns that some influencers are failing to disclose that they are being paid for their endorsements.

In the early days of social media, Instagram and Facebook were seen as ways to connect with those closest to us, and to provide an insight into our private lives. Today however, models and celebrities can make thousands (if not hundreds of thousands) of dollars with every photo they post, simply by featuring a product in their image. This nuanced form of targeted marketing deliberately blurs the line between “advertising” and “personal” sharing, and it’s big business. According to the Financial Times, Instagram influencers earned more than $1bn (£770m) in 2017.

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Pictured here is Chiara Ferragni, Italian fashion writer, influencer, businesswoman; and the first-ever blogger to be the focus of a Harvard Business School case study. Is this post of hers an advertisement, or is she just sharing the love?

Under American law, companies who work with influencers (defined as “key individuals with significant social media followings”) to promote products, services, or brands must follow certain rules, many of which are set out in Title XVI (Commercial Practices) of the Code of Federal Regulations. In particular, when there exists a connection between the endorser and the seller of the advertised product that might materially affect the weight or credibility of the endorsement, such connection must be fully disclosed. (16 C.F.R. §§ 255.0-255.5).

In practice, this means that when a company pays an individual – either in cash, or through discounts, free travel, or products – the company and influencer should enter a written contract. The contract should oblige the influencer to both “disclose its material connection to the advertiser clearly and conspicuously,” as well as “refrain from making any false or misleading statements about the products and services.”

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nearly identical post to Chiara’s above, but Victoria at inthefrow here has included #ad. Is that clear and conspicuous enough?

Here in the United Kingdom, where influencers are paid to promote, review or talk about a product on social media, the law requires that this must be made clear. The use of editorial content that promotes a product –also known as “advertorials” or “native advertising”– must clearly identify that the company has paid for the promotion.

Earlier this month, the Competition and Markets Authority (CMA) launched an investigation into whether consumers are being misled by celebrities who do not make clear that they have been paid, or otherwise rewarded, to endorse products online. In its press release, the CMA announced that it has already written to a range of celebrities and social media influencers to request information about their posts and the nature of the agreements they have in place with brands. This comes just weeks after Made in Chelsea star Louise Thompson was slapped on the wrist for failing to disclose an Instagram post as a paid-for advertisement for watchmaker Daniel Wellington.

The regulator is also asking consumers to share their experiences, and says it would “particularly benefit from hearing from people who have bought products which were endorsed on social media.”

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Notice that this post says at the top, “paid partnership with.” Is that better than #ad?

The investigation is being carried out under Part 8 of the Enterprise Act 2002 in respect of potential breaches of the Consumer Protection from Unfair Trading Regulations 2008. If an influencer ignores the CMA’s requests to comply with the law, an enforcement order in court. As for next steps, breaching such an order can lead to an unlimited fine or a jail term of up to two years. However, examples of meaningful penalties are still almost non-existent.

What do you think? Are influencer adverts easy enough to spot, without the hashtags and caveats? Interestingly, a study by Bazaarvoice and Morar Research found that nearly half of the 4,000 UK consumers polled are “fatigued” by repetitive influencer content. The majority also said they felt influencers were publishing content that was “too materialistic” and “misrepresented real life.” Notwithstanding this, the World Federation of Advertisers reported that 65% of multinational brands plan to increase their influencer investment. Perhaps there’s truth in what Chiara herself once quipped: “some loved me, some hated me—but they all followed me.”

 

Interested in this topic? Be sure to check out The Fashion Law’s Annual Brand and Influencer Report: The Good, Bad, and Highly Problematic. Featured photo above is Lena Perminova at Paris Fashion Week Autumn/Winter 2018 | Source: Getty Images

Lawyering in America and England

Lawyering in America and England

George Bernard Shaw once wrote, “England and America are two countries divided by a common language.” As an American who chose to pursue my legal career in London, I really enjoy considering legal issues from both an American and an English perspective, as I’ve done with Taylor Swift and defamation lawsuits, or the concept of celebrity “publicity rights”. But what about the differences in the legal system itself, or the education and training needed to become a lawyer? I’ve answered a few common questions below…

England and the United States are both “common law” jurisdictions. What does that mean and why does it matter?

Most legal systems are based on either Civil Code or Common Law. The system in which a lawyer practices can tell you a lot about their approach to their job, or legal philosophy more generally.

There are four main legal systems, including Civil (shown in blue) and Common Law (shown in pink). The other two systems are Religious law (Muslim, Jewish, etc) and Customary (indigenous, tribal, etc).

In Civil Law jurisdictions, which are also known as “Napoleonic” or “Roman” systems, the core principles are codified into a written collection of laws and procedures set out in the civil code. Lawyers are inquisitorial rather than adversarial, and it is the judge (or judges), who ask questions and demand evidence. In a civil law system, lawyers present arguments based on the evidence the court finds. The judge’s role is to establish the facts of the case and to apply the provisions of the applicable code.

Common Law, by contrast, puts great weight on court decisions, which are considered “law” with the same force of law as statutes. As such, common law courts have the authority to make law where no legislative statute exists, and statutes mean simply what courts interpret them to mean. In most scenarios, the two sides of a dispute argue before a neutral judge, who then makes a decision.

The United States, like most Commonwealth countries and former colonies, is an heir to the common law legal tradition of English law. Of course, certain practices traditionally allowed under English common law have been expressly outlawed by the American Constitution, such as bills of attainder and general search warrants. Practically speaking however, most Americans and Brits will have the same understanding of the roles of lawyers, trials, contracts, and much more.

Fun Fact: “Common law” derives its name from being common to all the King’s courts across England following the Norman Conquest of 1066. 

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