
Copyright law and the CRB: What went wrong? ·Mar 16, 11:12 AM
Posted by: Paul Maloney
Given the ruinous rates and terms laid down by the Copyright
Royalty Board last week, many RAIN readers have been asking, what are the options available to webcasters?
They include negotiating, appealing to the courts, asking for legislative
relief, and, perhaps in combination with some or all of those efforts,
asking for help from listeners.
But before that process begins, I think it might be
useful to take a few steps backward and look at how we arrived at
this potentially fatal situation.
The purpose of copyright
law
Stanford Law professor and copyright expert Lawrence Lessig
(pictured right) writes, "Copyright has never accorded the
copyright owner complete control over all possible uses of his work.
Its purpose instead is to secure a limited
monopoly over certain ways
in which creative work is exploited, so as to give the authors (i.e.,
composers and performers) an incentive
to create, and thus, in turn, to ‘promote the Progress of Science‘."
In fact, it’s beyond argument today that the U.S. copyright
laws recognize no absolute right in authors to prevent others from
copying or exploiting their work. Rather, copyright laws grant authors
limited rights in
their works solely to an extent
that Congress believes that creation and dissemination of their
works are encouraged. In the long term, authors’
intents and interests have always been secondary to that of the
public.
Copyright law and music
Congress’ intent to encourage the creation and dissemination
of musical works is based on those principles. Congress has wanted
to insure that composers have an incentive to keep composing and performers
have an incentive to keep performing, but also that third parties (i.e., those
individuals and companies that disseminate those works to the public
in new forms (e.g., Pandora)) would have an incentive to keep innovating — in each case,
remember, primarily not for those individuals’ own good, but rather for
the good of the public.
So, to that end, Congress over the past decades has seen fit to grant
composers and performers a certain limited number of monopoly rights.
Not unlimited rights, mind you, but
enough to motivate them to keep composing and performing.
For example, in the case of composers, one of the monopolies
that Congress granted them was a monopoly for a certain period of time to decide who could record their compositions —
specifically, they may determine the first
person who may record it. However, Congress
did not grant composers any additional monopoly rights in this regard
thereafter; once that first performer has recorded it,
any other performers are also free to record the song. The composer
may get some cash compensation for it (e.g., if it’s recorded on
a CD or published as sheet music) and may benefit from the promotional
value of the performances of it (e.g., more sheet music will be
sold), but they were absolutely not
granted unlimited control of their output.
Of course, Congress could have
granted composers additional monopoly rights regarding who could perform
their songs. But they didn’t. Congress
felt that the bundle of various monopoly rights they did give should
be enough to motivate composers to keep composing.
Copyright law and sound
recordings
Now
let’s look at sound recordings. (We’ve covered this several
times before in RAIN, but I’ll clarify here parenthetically:
When Rod Stewart records Cole Porter’s "Night and Day,"
there are two different creative works involved — the song (lyrics
and notes) and the performance of it (as captured on that recording).
We’re now talking about the latter — the sound
recording.)
In the early days of cylinders and 78 RPM discs and so forth,
state copyright laws granted owners of the master recordings various
rights to manufacture and sell them, but it was an open
question as to whether radio stations had the right to play
those recordings.
In fact (as I was reminded recently in the excellent book
"Something in the Air" by the Washington Post‘s
Marc Fisher), top crooners of the era like Bing Crosby (pictured)
and Paul Whiteman stamped "Not Licensed
for Radio Airplay" on their records and
hired lawyers to try to sue the radio stations that played them.
However, a federal court ruled in 1940 that once a record
was sold, the buyer had the right to use
it in any manner he liked, including broadcasting it on the radio.
In other words, the court determined that there were no copyright
laws in effect that had granted that particular
monopoly right (the right to control
who plays it on the radio, sometimes called a "public performance"
monopoly right) to the performer. Recording artists had
been granted several rights by Congress, the court concluded, but not that one.
Thereafter, radio stations knew they were free to play the records
they wanted to play.
And the relationship between recording artists and radio
stations turned out to be a virtuous one! When
radio stations played a Bing Crosby record, its sales didn’t go
down (as he was apparently afraid they might), they
soared!
A healthy economy developed in which
record companies and recording artists
encouraged radio stations to play their
records, knowing they’d mutually benefit. (In fact, record
companies eventually went on to hire huge promotional staffs and
establish huge budgets for things like trade publication ads and independent
promotion companies to encourage more radio stations to
play more of their recordings more and more often.)
Had Congress believed that record companies and performers
were at risk of not being motivated enough to make enough recordings to
serve the interests of the public, Congress could
have granted additional monopoly rights (i.e., a "public
performance" monopoly right for those sound recordings). But
Congress in its wisdom realized that the performers
were already adequately motivated to serve
the public interest, and thus did not those grant additional
rights.
In fact, it wasn’t until 1972 that Congress, for the first
time, offered any kind of federal copyright protection for sound
recordings at all. (Prior to that, as noted above, the right to
sell reproductions were covered by a patchwork of state copyright
laws.)
Four years later, the Copyright
Law of 1976 (also here)
established that there was a monopoly right to "public performance"
for certain types of copyrighted material, but not
for sound recordings. Why not? Not to keep hammering
this home, but it was because Congress apparently believed that
record companies and recording artists were already sufficiently
motivated to keep creating enough sound recordings to satisfy the
public good.
(Note: Somewhere in this section of this article, I’ve jumped
from talking about the copyright owner of a performance being the
performer to being the record
label, since record labels deals with performers generally
establish the label as the copyright owner.)
From the record company’s
perspective
If you’re Clive Davis or Andrew Lack running a record
label, though, you might instinctively view this whole situation from a
different perspective. You might think, "I paid for the making
of these recordings. They’re my property!
They should be mine to do with as I please!"
But that’s not historically correct.
Historically, you started out with no rights
at all. Anyone could copy or use anything
you created for any purpose whatsoever that they desired. But government
eventually realized that the public would
benefit if the government granted you certain
monopoly rights for a limited period of time. You’d be
motivated to produce more art. And the public
would benefit.
So government, using the mechanism called copyright law,
gave you certain rights: For example, the government gave you a
monopoly right, for a limited period of time, to determine who could
use your recordings in TV commercials or
in films, or put your best songs on a compilation
disc and sell them, or use your
album cover art on t-shirts. Those are all specific monopoly
rights that legislators decided to grant you.
But they didn’t grant you monopoly rights over radio airplay!
The government felt it was unnecessary. Copyright law is designed
to balance rights and freedoms for both copyright owners and copyright
users, in such balance to maximize the benefit to the
public. Congress felt that they had given you, Clive or Andrew,
a sufficient number of rights to keep you motivated to keep making
recorded music.
If you’re Clive or Andrew, you may know this intellectually,
but nonetheless, you may not be happy about it. You still have that
"It’s mine, I should be able to do anything I want with it
" feeling.
Enter digital
Now let’s jump forward to 1995. Technology
is changing. Music is now being delivered
to consumers in digital, as
opposed to analog, form (i.e., on CDs) and is about to be transmitted
in digital form on cable TV systems (DMX, MusicChoice, and Muzak)
and via satellite radio (XM and Sirius).
Having had this "It’s mine, I should be able control
it" feeling bugging you for years (remember, as far back as
the 1930s!), the RIAA
(Recording Industry Association of America) lobbied Congress to
pass a law called the "Digital
Performance Right in Sound Recordings Act (DPRA)."
Here was the RIAA’s argument: Digital transmissions of music
were about to allow consumers to make a
"perfect digital copy" of the music being transmitted.
Those perfect copies were
going impact revenues for recording artists
horribly — so horribly, in fact, that they might lack
sufficient motivation to record music thereafter. Given that nightmare
scenario, the RIAA asked Congress for an
additional monopoly right regarding the "public performance"
of sound recordings when a digital transmission was involved.
Congress bought it. (In defense
of legislators, the RIAA was very early on the curve here, and there
was no organized "other side" to raise any effective objections.)
However, Congress did somewhat limit the new monopoly they
granted the copyright owners by adding a "statutory"
license, so that the music services wouldn’t have to negotiate
on a song-by-song basis for each song they wanted to play. As for
compensation to the copyright owner, Congress instructed the copyright
owners and the copyright users to negotiate a royalty rate among
themselves, but, if that failed, Congress instructed the Copyright
Office to set up an arbitration panel called
a CARP that would hold hearing to determine
a royalty rate.
Congress also established the four
criteria ("policy objectives") the CARP should
use, if a CARP was needed at all, to set the royalty rate —
(A) To maximize the availability
of creative works to the public;
(B) To afford the copyright owner a fair
return for his creative work and the copyright user
a fair income under existing
economic conditions;
© To reflect the relative roles
of the copyright owner and
the copyright user in the product made available to
the public with respect to relative creative contribution, technological
contribution, capital investment, cost, risk, and contribution
to the opening of new markets for creative expression and media
for their communication;
(D) To minimize any disruptive impact
on the structure of the industries involved and on generally prevailing
industry practices.
These four criteria are spelled out
in Section
801(b)(1)
of the Copyright Act, by the way. You may in upcoming weeks
hear people talking about "the 801(b)(1) standard" and
now you’ll know what they’re talking about.
Note that those four criteria are perfectly in keeping with
the general concept of copyright law — motivating
both creators of artistic works (performers) and
users of those works (music services) to keep doing what
they do, with the ultimate beneficiary
being the public.
Enter the DMCA
The Digital
Millennium Copyright Act of 1998 (the "DMCA")
(also
here) contained a whole bundle of new provisions to add
new protections and rights for various
copyright owners, including the
RIAA, the MPAA, vessel hull designers, and computer software firms.
Within that law, the RIAA got webcasting
added as a form of digital transmission that would be covered by a "public
performance" copyright. (However, somewhere in this process, the NAB
(National Association of Broadcasters) got an exception
inserted for HD Radio; although it’s a digital transmission
of music, it was specifically excluded
from this monopoly right.)
The DMCA also changed the standard
under which a webcasting CARP, if one proved necessary, was supposed
to determine the appropriate royalty rate.
The new standard was simpler:
The copyright arbitration royalty panel shall establish rates
and terms that most clearly represent the rates and terms that
would have been negotiated in the marketplace
between a willing buyer and a willing seller.
There were some additional factors the CARP was instructed
to look at, but only to help determine the appropriate "willing
buyer / willing seller" rate.
Additional language in the law permitted the sellers — i.e.,
the major record labels — to license their songs as a group without
running afoul of antitrust laws.
Since
the "willing buyer / willing seller" rule requires a
willing seller, and the sellers can operate as a cartel (I’m using
the term colloquially here) but the buyers
can’t, this effectively, I believe, means "whatever
the labels feel like."
Which is a quite different standard than
the 801(b)(1) standard, which cared about balancing the
opportunities for both copyright owners and copyright users, etc.
(Incidentally, Congress, unhappy with the outcome of the CARP
processes, in 2004 enacted a law called the "Reform Act"
that replaced the trio of arbitrators with
a trio of judges (the "Copyright
Royalty Board" (CRB), photo above). But pretty much everything
else stayed the same.)
Where we stand today
So here’s where we stand today based on the
specific bundle of monopoly rights that Congress has granted the various
factions:
- Copyright owners of sound recordings have not
been granted any rights to control
which AM, FM, or
HD radio stations play their recordings, because
Congress felt that the copyright owners had enough other rights
to keep them motivated to keep making records.
However, because of an alleged
nascent threat of consumers being able to make "perfect
digital copies" of
songs transmitted digitally, Congress granted record labels a new
monopoly right to control who plays their recordings, meaning effectively
that…
- Satellite radio has to pay
a royalty for the use of sound recordings, with a rate
being set by an arbitration panel based on several
criteria
that are designed to be balanced to benefit, overall, the public. (That rate is not public knowledge, but is estimated by stock analysts to be about 3.5% of industry revenues.)
- Internet radio also has to pay
a royalty for the use of sound recordings, but its
rate is set by a trio of judges based on a single
criterion that can, in my reading, anyway, be
interpreted as "almost whatever
the labels feel like."
And thus we end up with a situation
in we’re in right now, in which a trio of judges granted the copyright
owners a royalty rate from Internet radio that is effectively, I
believe, more than 100% of the total industry’s
revenues!
(I think this proves my point that the "willing buyer
/ willing seller" rule, when the sellers
can operate as a group, works out to "whatever the sellerse
feel like." It turns out that what the sellers feel like is
"every penny you have…and more.")
So what do we do next?
Clearly the process has spun off the rails. Particularly
if the CRB decision drives Internet radio off the air, the public
clearly doesn’t benefit, meaning that the purpose
of copyright law is not being served.
The purpose of Congress granting copyright protections is
supposed to be to maximize the availability of creative
output to the public. In other words, from the copyright owner’s side,
it’s supposed to encourage bands like Clap
Your Hands Say Yeah to keep recording
music, and from the copyright user’s side, it’s supposed
to encourage the development of new services
like radio station’s Internet simulcasts and "B" channels and LAUNCHcast and AccuRadio and Live365 and Radio Paradise and Pandora.
When both sides are doing what they do, the public
benefits. Copyright law is not
supposed to shut down an entire industry.
There were two moments, historically,
where things went wrong:
First, the logic that the RIAA gave Congress as the rationale
for getting a performance royalty for sound recordings in the DPRA
was faulty from the start. The lobbyists used a deceptive
term — they said a "perfect
digital copy" was going to be available to
consumers. In fact there’s nothing "perfect"
about the audio quality of an Internet radio stream at
all.
For streaming to work, webcasters stream
music at much lower than CD quality. The term lobbyists
should have used was "exact" copy, but it would have been
a hard sell to Congress to claim that the potential availability of
"exact" copies of mediocre-quality streams of music was
going to seriously jeopardize music sales — particularly to the point
where there was a risk that recording artists were going to quit recording.
"Perfect digital copies" sounded
a lot more threatening.
Second, the change in instructions to the
CARP in 1998’s DMCA — from the four public policy-based
criteria used for the other services’ CARPs (the "801(b)(1)" standard) to the
"willing buyer / willing seller" standard for the
webcasters’ CARP — has led to decisions, two out of two times (!),
that may be potentially enriching for one
of the sides but that clearly aren’t in the public interest.
In the words of the great composer and lyricist Johnny Mercer,
"Something’s gotta give, something’s gotta give, something’s
gotta give!"
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I welcome your comments about this article or on this topic in general. Use the feedback form that you’ll find lower on this page or write me at kurt@kurthanson.com
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