This is a walkthrough (intended for desktop browsers) of the April 2021 Supreme Court of the United States (SCOTUS) decision Oracle v. Google (OvG) and its lower court decisions. Like layers of an onion, you can read just the TL;DRs and overviews for a quick understanding or descend into the deep nitty-gritty of the opinion writeups and precedential case summary constellation. The intended audience is mostly developers and non-developers rather than attorneys (though attorneys are welcome, you'll probably just want to skip the large background portions).
Originally, I was just going to post my handwritten notes, but several motivations precipitated this more lengthy writeup, e.g.:
Before jumping in: DISCLAIMER: This is *not* legal advice. My language is deliberately loose and non-legal so as to convey general concepts rather than legally precise propositions - there are almost certainly typos (I've done this write up ad hoc as I find time outside work hours; it's not perfect, but I need to move on to other obligations). Also, as will quickly become evident, it's impossible to apply anything herein without having an attorney carefully consider a specific set of facts - so don't. I'll also probably tweak and update portions of the writeup as I receive feedback. So use this to guide your understanding and your own further reading, *NOT* for application to your or anyone else's current situation. If you have a legal question, consult with an attorney.
How to use this write up:
The CAFC and Supreme Court decisions basically result in the following four "takeaways" affecting the current legal landscape:
Regarding that last point, Judge Boudin absolutely nailed the issues here back in 1995 in his concurrence (provided below) to Lotus v. Borland, basically, making two critical observations:
OvG is basically providing answers to these questions. Saying:
Going Forward:
Copyright Act Tension / Judicial Inefficiency -
There is considerable tension between the SCOTUS decision and the Copyright Act. Judge Boudin predicted this, cautioning against blithely choosing this fair use / privileged use approach.
Having "any use" "deemed privileged" for ALL APIs would effectively eviscerate protection for APIs under the Copyright Act, which probably isn't what Congress intended. Thus, unless Congress steps in, courts are going to want to resolve that tension, finding some "true negative" datapoint that usage of an API wasn't fair use so as to counterbalance this true positive, thereby avoiding an implication that OvG eviscerates protection of all API structures under the Act.
The SCOTUS majority are smart folks and are aware of this. They all but make Congress an explicit, handwritten invitation to step in and clarify 17 USC 107:
Anyway, as I said, courts will be on the hunt now for a "true negative, i.e. not fair use" case to demonstrate that fair use hasn't eviscerated the Act. There may be several such cases and SCOTUS may not grant cert on all (or any) of them - so don't be the one to blithely rely upon OvG for your situation - indeed, even if they did grant cert, it may only be so that your case can serve as the happily discovered "sacrificial" complement for SCOTUS to demonstrate that their Fair Use analysis didn't eviscerate the Act.
Open Source Balkanization -
The SCOTUS decision, implicitly, provides guidance for avoiding open source ecosystem balkanization. It's not very definitive or reassuring guidance, but it is there. Given that shaky ground, trademark and patent should be rolled in (to the extent possible) if you're managing an ecosystem and really want to strengthen your position (appreciating that there is precedent, though, guiding what you can and can't do in this regard - see, e.g., trademark and the Sega decision, as well as the recent Alice patent decisions). People often overlook, e.g., the patent language in the Apache license - it might be time to brush it off and tweak it to fill any lacunae for interface control resulting from OvG in your situation.Some developers have confessed to me that they see legal proceedings as mere "theater", lacking rigor, and governed mostly by the whims of judges and lawyers.
This is understandable.
Most schools no longer teach dialectics, forensic rhetoric, and the trivium progression from grammar->logic->rhetoric, etc., at least not explicitly, in the class room.
Indeed, most law schools do not.
Rather, law schools tend to be so single-mindedly focused upon training their students to pass the bar [presumably because their US ranking depends in large part upon those numbers] that they rarely, if ever, discuss legal philosophy and the underpinnings of forensic rhetoric and analysis. I once had a lovely discussion regarding Kotaro Tanaka with a Political Philosophy Professor at a prestigious university here in the States. I remarked that their law school was lucky to have him. He chuckled saying that he had never been invited to speak at the law school and he never expected to be.
Instead, many lawyers pick up these tools implicitly during their apprenticeship. Consequently, they aren't able to articulate that they're, say, applying doctrine from a 17th Century Dutch humanist or a syllogism with term distributions in the categorical propositions of one of the A, E, I, or O forms - they just do so, not knowing that that's what they're doing (in fairness, most of the top judges and litigators I've met, do know, but they're the rare breed).
In any event, the result is that many engineers I know view linguistic reasoning with suspicion, certainly as compared with the more hallowed ground of mathematics.
If you've experienced this skepticism, I invite you to suspend judgment for a moment and consider the following.
Words, like numbers, have meaning.
As in math, you can reason with words. As in math, you can apply logic with words. As in math, you can state propositions and deduce conclusions with words.
A skeptical developer's objections are typically as follows:
Developer:
To which I respond as follows:
In any event, in law, we're going to reason with words.
Per response #1 above, reasoning never occurs in vacuum. There are always foundational propositions, e.g.
In law, in addition to those basic foundational propositions, we are ALSO required to include certain law-specific propositions, arising from:
Pet peeve: note that I didn't say amicus briefs, law review articles, or your mom's blog - there are good philosophical reasons why we don't just look anywhere to justify our legal reasoning. Different entities in the legal system have different functions. Congress, as the "voice" of the people, makes the laws and judges interpret those laws. Naturally, interpreting (statutory or common) law affects the effect of those laws, and this is the basis for the "Previous cases" item above. Congress may say "All cats need leashes" and the courts may then say "cats are understood to have stripes, ocelots don't have stripes, so ocelots don't need leashes." If the courts get too creative like this, Congress will rein them back in by amending the law (this was what happened in the 1992 amendment to the Copyright Act when Congress didn't like how the courts were considering nonpublication in their fair use analysis). Until Congress does that, though, lower courts are bound by (i.e., must incorporate propositions from in their reasoning) the interpretations of the higher courts.
This is not a perfect system, but it is a good system. I put "voice" in air quotes above, because lobbyists and elected officials obviously impose some distance from the average American and Congress. But that's better than having judges make law ab initio. Lobbyists, private interests, etc. spend months, years, analyzing their positions. While they may not always have the public weal in the forefront of their mind, they tend to really know the issue. A judge, in contrast, is handling dozens of cases at one time, has, at best, usually only a few months (typically much less) to consider an issue, may not even be elected by the people, and is relying upon relatively short briefs to inform their analysis. Consequently, judges should, and often do, correctly perceive their role as one of only modest interpretation. They appreciate that even if they have the best of intentions, they just aren't in a position to usurp the legislative process.
Let's discuss in more detail with a non-legal hypothetical that actually explains some of the behavior in OvG.
Imagine (or recall) that you have a spouse.
You live on the FAR WEST side of a small town. You are running errands at the hardware store on the FAR EAST side of town. You receive a text from your spouse, which reads:
You break into a feverish sweat, for it is a culinary curiosity of your city of residence that there are only two restaurants your spouse frequents, on opposite sides of town: Restaurant A in the north and Restaurant B in the south.
Thus, your situation is as follows:
Travelling to both is unreasonable. Without texting back and admitting ignorance as to your beloved's preferences, how will you choose?
What follows is basically forensic rhetorical (i.e., legal) reasoning. It's as if you have a demon for Restaurant A on one shoulder and a demon for Restaurant B on the other (no angels, this is law after all) advancing arguments based on your experience, e.g.:
I refer to this space of viable reasoning from the available, agreed propositions, the "Fog of War". The larger the Fog of War, the more perspectives are available for making viable arguments, but the less certain, and consequently less efficient in reaching a conclusion, is the reasoning landscape.
(Arguably, the only difference between mathematic and linguistic reasoning is that the highly artificial nature of the former facilitates stronger Fog of War control)
For example - let's continue the hypothetical and narrow the landscape by adding a proposition. Your spouse now sends a second, follow up text, which reads:
Has this dispositively resolved the question in favor of Restaurant A?
No. It's possible your spouse intends you to make a very long trip home, going to Restaurant B.
But the Fog of War has been so contracted (this is a variation of Occam's razor) such that there are fewer and less viable arguments now available to Demon B.
To be clear: Demon B's arguments are not now logically incorrect - they begin from viable propositions and reason validly with logical rules. They are, however, less consistent with the proposition base than are the arguments of Demon A, since Demon B must exclude, ignore, or otherwise dispense with, more propositions than Demon A to reason validly (if your mind has conjured an image of a dot product, yeah, that's basically the idea, though it's more nuanced for complicated arguments; and yes, what age would we be living in if there weren't folks trying to automate all this).
Congress and the courts are aware of this interplay between argument flexibility and propositional contraction and they, just as your spouse, may encourage one or the other deliberately.Example
For example, let's say your wise and loving spouse wants to express their preference, but does not want you to feel guilty if you choose incorrectly. To that end, they may deliberately withhold sending that follow up text message. This way, hopefully you bring home what they prefer, but if not, they can still smile and maintain positive conjugal relations. These benefits, however, come at a cost: your spouse may not get the meal they desired, you may waste time and energy pining and trying to guess their intentions, etc. If your spouse prioritizes efficiency (e.g., if you've screwed up enough times), they may send the follow up text or state their preference outright.
Congress and the courts do the same thing. We live in a messy, changing world. Sometimes we want courts to reason on a case-by-case basis, accommodating broad Fogs of War as circumstances change ("What are the bounds of free speech?"), and sometimes we want them to decide quickly and move on ("No, you can't dump toxic waste on city hall, period, no exceptions."). Usually businesses and Wall Street prefer the latter, narrower Fogs of War, since it provides certainty in their own analyses. Typically, that means strong, clear property rights - good fences make good neighbors. However, there are some business models that benefit from broad Fogs of War, specifically preferring ambiguity around property rights.
Anyway, the point here is that we don't read court opinions, or each side's arguments, in a vacuum. We read each word in each sentence, within the larger propositional context. Arguments less consistent with the propositional context are as objectively less preferable as mathematical proofs that violate or misuse axioms (which shouldn't be surprising, since the latter are [arguably] specific instances of the former). Of course, with a broad enough Fog of War, two arguments may be equally consistent, even if they come to opposite conclusions (as with your initial decision whether to select restaurant A or B).
As a final thought, note that while new precedential propositions usually narrow the Fog of War, new precedential propositions may sometimes increase the Fog of War. That is, the Fog of War usually enlarges due to "deductive ambiguity" ("How does this specific instance align with a general principle?"), but it may also enlarge from "inductive ambiguity" ("Having seen this specific instance, what is the corresponding general principle?").
For example, if a statute says "cats must wear leashes" (general principle) that's pretty unambiguous. Initially, that may be an easy rule to follow. However, if a judge says "that doesn't apply to ocelots in the zoo" (specific instance) then you have to reconcile the two, and the once narrow Fog of War is now much broader. What was it about ocelots in zoos that the judge thought was excluded from "cats"? The more explicit the judge is in their reasoning, the less risk there is for inductive ambiguity ("In the Congressional hearings for the statute, Congress explained that they were concerned about violent incidents with home-owned predatory felines, not those in the controlled environments of zoos - so I'm excluding zoo-managed ocelots . . ."). If the judge wasn't clear, though, about their reasoning, this conclusion may have taken an otherwise clear definition ("cats") with a limited Fog of War and modified it to something unclear with a consequently larger Fog of War ("cats, but somehow not ocelots affiliated with zoos . . . somehow . . . maybe because they don't have stripes? They're behind bars? . . .").
This is why, in terms of precedential effect, a judge's REASONING can often be more important than the judge's CONCLUSION. Reaching the "right" conclusion by vague reasoning can be, in many ways, worse than reaching the "wrong" conclusion by clear reasoning, since the latter reveals the judge's interpretive process, whereas the former resembles usurpation of Congress' legislative function. Demon B may luck out after you receive the second text, as your spouse may have actually intended Restaurant B - but that certainly wasn't as consistent with the propositional landscape as posed in the hypothetical as was the alternative.
Inductive ambiguity is predominant in the "Charybdis" of Judge Boudin's warning discussed above.
Rhetoric and dialectic are fascinating subjects (not just as applied to legal reasoning) - this is just a glimpse to inform various of my observations on OvG in this writeup. If you're interested in learning more, reach out and I can recommend some books / articles.
Courts don't let you sue someone for anything. Having a bad haircut is not an actionable offense (whew). Only certain "rights" grounded in legal propositions are recognized.
For example, a contract gives you rights with respect to a specific entity - the counterparty to the contract. In contrast, "property" is a set of rights as to everyone in the whole world (well, everyone that's within the jurisdiction of the court). E.g., I don't need to know someone personally or have a contractual relationship with them to be liable for trespass upon their property. Hanging out on their lawn is trespass even if they never saw me before.
The foundations (in the United States) for the copyright property rights are found in the Patent and Copyright Clause of the Constitution, which provides Congress the power "[t]o promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries."
Congress has instantiated that power with the "Copyright Act" (appearing in 17 U.S.C. §§ 101-810 of the US code) whose last major revision was in 1976 (though there have been minor adjustments since). The 1976 Amendment addressed both advances in technology and the United States' imminent participation in the Berne Convention, an international agreement on copyright.
As most folks are generally aware, copyright protects expressive works.
Just like, say, a cookbook, a computer program is a "literary work" and therefore receives a copyright.
This is known as the "idea-expression dichotomy" and is made explicit in the Act:
(Some developers guffaw at this: "You mean my lean, minimalist, functional code is less amenable to copyright protection than some bonehead's circuitous, gobblygook mess?"
Yup.
But typically even a lean approach will receive some protection.)
Courts have clarified that the "expressive" portion of the literary work must be "original"
Finally, and importantly for our discussion of APIs, note that the Act also explicitly grants protection to compilations:
In summary, you should take away the following points:
That's it. As far as IP regimes go, we could have stopped there. However, the Act also limits copyright enforcement based upon a doctrine we'll discuss in the next section: fair use.
Fair Use was originally a judicially created doctrine stretching back to the 1700s (e.g., in 1740 the English Court of Chancery distinguished shortened copies of works, which were "fair abridgements", from infringing copies). This is more than just a fun fact, as the manner in which such doctrines were applied in 1791 determines, e.g., whether the 7th amendment guarantees a jury trial for fair use today.quote
Why have fair use? Why not just have absolute copyright monopolies? Part of the philosophical underpinning here arises from the Constitution's command to "promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts", not "reward authors / publishers indiscriminately."
As the doctrine solidified in the United States, it was ultimately codified in 17 USC § 107
"Shall" and "include" are magic legal words. "Shall" means "you have to." And "include" means, "these things, but not just these things, there may be more . . . "
The "Purpose", "Nature", "Amount", and "Effect" factors are referred to as the "four factor" test of fair use. I usually abbreviate them as the PNAE factors.
For convenience, you'll see me put a court's analysis in a table like the below:
So far so good.
Now the hiccup here is that to apply this test, we have to balance those factors in view of:
What's more, the Act, not just this fair use portion, but as a whole, is a "one-size-fits-all" document that's being applied to purely literary contexts (e.g., novels) as well as to much more technical domains (e.g., power plant software).
As you can imagine, this creates a HUGE Fog of War, leaving some exasperated judges to declare that the fair use doctrine is:
Ideally, courts would gradually clarify the doctrine's application over time, slowly annealing it into an efficient, analytic steady-state. Alas, there's this thing that keeps throwing a wrench in the machine: technology.
If you're a developer, skip this section.
Computers understand 1s and 0s, humans understand words and phrases.
Programmers tell a computer what to do by writing “words and phrases”, i.e., code, which is then converted to the corresponding 1s and 0s (typically by a thing called a "compiler").
For the programmer’s convenience, “words and phrases” can be grouped into functions, just like math functions.
Let's say, e.g., that a developer wants to multiply a number by 1000 add two and divide by 3, for each of the numbers 2, 3, 4. They could say:
but that gets bloated and tedious pretty quickly. If, instead, they define a function
They can just say:
That's a lot less typing and also makes code easier to read.
Now, real software functions are considerably more complicated, but they still follow the same principle. Here's a more realistic example.
In C++, the line of code
tells the computer:
A computer is like a lobotomized cheetah: very fast and very stupid.
Milliseconds after receiving this code, the computer may say:
With a heavy sigh, the programmer may then rewrite his program as follows:
And now the program will work. What did that magical line 'include stdio.h' do? Basically, it's the programmer saying the following:
“Print” is a real function in C++ (actually fprintf, but let's not split hairs: see this appearing in stdio.h). The above code will cause the string “hello world” to appear (be “printed”) on the standard output (your computer console). The function name “print(char* x)” is an example of a declaring code in an API (an Application Programming Interface) indicating the name of the function and what it receives as input (basically, a string of characters). Stdio.h and stdio.c, being a collection of such function declarations and their definitions, respectively, are an example of an API.
Incidentally, lest you think I'm making an unworthy analogy to JAVA with C++, note that the terms "declaration" and "header" are usually interchanged, e.g., as explained in the district court:
You're reading this in a browser. Browsers have their own "compiler/interpreter" that reads its own language. The equivalent to the above code in that language is:
I tied that code to this button - click it:
Now slow down for a second. Think about what you just did.
With one, teeny, tiny line of code (whether "print" or "alert") amazing things happened. With "alert",
Now, it's important to appreciate that those function names "print" and "alert" interfacing into the API are both functional and fanciful.
That is, “printing” is what the function “print” does. Duh. That’s a functional description.
And yet, its author could instead have called it “lineout” or “send_to_console” or “to_screen”. Choosing to call it "print" was, to a certain extent, arbitrary.
Obviously, this is just one little line and one little choice, but in an API with thousands, maybe millions, of functions - that can be an awful lot of choices.
One word of caution: as mentioned there *is* some expressive character in the API per the above choice of "print." But that expressive character doesn't often manifest itself in the way, say, lines in a novel will.
20 lines of Jane Austen reflects 20 lines of distinct creative, expressive choices. 20 lines of API code may be a single creative choice varied 20 times (1: "#define constant A"; 2: "#define constant B"; "#define constant C"; etc.).
So when someone says "This header file has 1000 lines" it doesn't say much about the expressive content: it may be 1000 (or more) expressive choices, as in a novel . . . or it may be just one expressive choice repurposed 1000 times.
I've discussed OvG with lawyers and developers before and sometimes noticed that, even if they follow the fact pattern, court posture, etc. they tend to fall into one camp or the other, without really appreciating the objections of the other side.
I think that's because:
For such folks, I've sometimes found it helpful to reference a close hypothetical analogue to the software fact pattern in OvG as follows:
In paper and pencil roleplaying games, like Dungeons and DragonsTM (DnD), you first create a character using a character creation sheet: Examples
Roleplaying games appeal to number crunchers. Accordingly, during creation, you may be given a finite number of "points", which you may allocate to different attributes of your character (e.g., with 50 points, 10 to intelligence, 20 to stamina, and 20 to charisma)
Another player, referred to as a Game Master, will then narrate an adventure for your character, presenting various challenges along the way. The outcome to your response to these challenges may then be determined using a combination of your character's attributes, the roll of one or more dice, and various game rules. E.g.,
Game Master: "You encounter a troll who swings at you with his fist."
You: "My dwarf attempts to dodge."
Game Master: "Very well. Calculate whether you succeeded using a roll of the dice, your dexterity attribute, and the dodge formula."
Some role playing games have very elaborate rules and character sheets. Let's consider the following hypothetical sheet, which combines a character sheet and rule book, as some games do.
The sheet has three sections:
Note that the Index provides the move or spells name, the inputs it receives, and how those inputs are applied to various of the intermediate calculators to determine the resulting damage.
For example, if you choose to perform a "Flaming Sword" (name) maneuver, you must perform two dice rolls (inputs: roll_1, roll_2) and submit their results to the Sword Fighting (SF) and Spell Casting (SC) calculators, respectively, to determine how much damage you did.
Thus, the index (API declarations) serve as a reference to the more substantive computational operations of the calculators (API implementing code)
Thus, under our analogy, the "Character Fighting Move / Spell Index" corresponds to the JAVA API declaring code (what Google copied), the calculators correspond to the implementing code (what Google rewrote), and the sheet as a whole corresponds to the JAVA language as a whole.
It should be clear that, despite its having some functional character, as a whole such a sheet is copyrightable. Even in this barebones example, the selection and arrangement of elements are expressive. Similarly, no one denies that JAVA, as a whole, is copyrightable.
I've found that this helps convey some of the existential angst at play in the case. Basically, after Sun/Oracle's character sheet enjoyed wild popularity in the fantasy game domain, Google decided to create its own sheet for a sci-fi domain, rewriting everything in the sheet, except for the Index, which they copied wholesale, because they wanted players to avail themselves of the familiarity they'd gained using Oracle's sheet.
This creates a policy kerfuffle. Is this like someone creating a derivative Harry Potter novel, reusing the characters? I mean, the Index has some fanciful name selections. They're not entirely fanciful, though - there's only so many ways you can refer to a "love spell." So is it more like someone reusing a functional, standardized protocol? If we say this is fair use, how will that affect the creation of new character sheets? If we say that it isn't fair use, how will that affect the creation of new character sheets?
Again, this is just a conceptual analogue, but the issues are close enough to OvG to convey the complexities involved.
Judge Boudin's concurrence in the 1995 Lotus v. Borland is essentially the prequel to OvG. There's an entry for Lotus v. Borland in the case notes. Basically, the First Circuit found a "command hierarchy" menu interface to be uncopyrightable (it was pretty barebones apparently, e.g., "print" printed, etc.).
I'm lacking time to walk through it with you at present and so will copy it below for reference for now.
I highlight what I refer to as Boudin's Scylla and Charybdis below.
Concurrence follows. BOUDIN, Circuit Judge, concurring. The importance of this case, and a slightly different emphasis in my view of the underlying problem, prompt me to add a few words to the majority's tightly focused discussion.
I.
Most of the law of copyright and the "tools" of analysis have developed in the context of literary works such as novels, plays, and films. In this milieu, the principal problem--simply stated, if difficult to resolve--is to stimulate creative expression without unduly limiting access by others to the broader themes and concepts deployed by the author. The middle of the spectrum presents close cases; but a "mistake" in providing too much protection involves a small cost: subsequent authors treating the same themes must take a few more steps away from the original expression.
The problem presented by computer programs is fundamentally different in one respect. The computer program is a means for causing something to happen; it has a mechanical utility, an instrumental role, in accomplishing the world's work. Granting protection, in other words, can have some of the consequences of patent protection in limiting other people's ability to perform a task in the most efficient manner. Utility does not bar copyright (dictionaries may be copyrighted), but it alters the calculus.
Of course, the argument for protection is undiminished, perhaps even enhanced, by utility: if we want more of an intellectual product, a temporary monopoly for the creator provides incentives for others to create other, different items in this class. But the "cost" side of the equation may be different where one places a very high value on public access to a useful innovation that may be the most efficient means of performing a given task. Thus, the argument for extending protection may be the same; but the stakes on the other side are much higher.
It is no accident that patent protection has preconditions that copyright protection does not--notably, the requirements of novelty and non-obviousness--and that patents are granted for a shorter period than copyrights. This problem of utility has sometimes manifested itself in copyright cases, such as Baker v. Selden, 101 U.S. 99, 25 L. Ed. 841 (1879), and been dealt with through various formulations that limit copyright or create limited rights to copy. But the case law and doctrine addressed to utility in copyright have been brief detours in the general march of copyright law.
Requests for the protection of computer menus present the concern with fencing off access to the commons in an acute form. A new menu may be a creative work, but over time its importance may come to reside more in the investment that has been made by users in learning the menu and in building their own mini-programs--macros--in reliance upon the menu. Better typewriter keyboard layouts may exist, but the familiar QWERTY keyboard dominates the market because that is what everyone has learned to use. See P. David, CLIO and the Economics of QWERTY, 75 Am. Econ. Rev. 332 (1985). The QWERTY keyboard is nothing other than a menu of letters.
Thus, to assume that computer programs are just one more new means of expression, like a filmed play, may be quite wrong. The "form"--the written source code or the menu structure depicted on the screen--look hauntingly like the familiar stuff of copyright; but the "substance" probably has more to do with problems presented in patent law or, as already noted, in those rare cases where copyright law has confronted industrially useful expressions. Applying copyright law to computer programs is like assembling a jigsaw puzzle whose pieces do not quite fit.
All of this would make no difference if Congress had squarely confronted the issue, and given explicit directions as to what should be done. The Copyright Act of 1976 took a different course. While Congress said that computer programs might be subject to copyright protection, it said this in very general terms; and, especially in § 102(b), Congress adopted a string of exclusions that if taken literally might easily seem to exclude most computer programs from protection. The only detailed prescriptions for computers involve narrow issues (like back-up copies) of no relevance here.
Of course, one could still read the statute as a congressional command that the familiar doctrines of copyright law be taken and applied to computer programs, in cookie cutter fashion, as if the programs were novels or play scripts. Some of the cases involving computer programs embody this approach. It seems to me mistaken on two different grounds: the tradition of copyright law, and the likely intent of Congress.
The broad-brush conception of copyright protection, the time limits, and the formalities have long been prescribed by statute. But the heart of copyright doctrine--what may be protected and with what limitations and exceptions--has been developed by the courts through experience with individual cases. B. Kaplan, An Unhurried View of Copyright 40 (1967). Occasionally Congress addresses a problem in detail. For the most part the interstitial development of copyright through the courts is our tradition.
Nothing in the language or legislative history of the 1976 Act, or at least nothing brought to our attention, suggests that Congress meant the courts to abandon this case-by-case approach. Indeed, by setting up § 102(b) as a counterpoint theme, Congress has arguably recognized the tension and left it for the courts to resolve through the development of case law. And case law development is adaptive: it allows new problems to be solved with help of earlier doctrine, but it does not preclude new doctrines to meet new situations.
II.
In this case, the raw facts are mostly, if not entirely, undisputed. Although the inferences to be drawn may be more debatable, it is very hard to see that Borland has shown any interest in the Lotus menu except as a fall-back option for those users already committed to it by prior experience or in order to run their own macros using 1-2-3 commands. At least for the amateur, accessing the Lotus menu in the Borland Quattro or Quattro Pro program takes some effort.
Put differently, it is unlikely that users who value the Lotus menu for its own sake--independent of any investment they have made themselves in learning Lotus' commands or creating macros dependent upon them--would choose the Borland program in order to secure access to the Lotus menu. Borland's success is due primarily to other features. Its rationale for deploying the Lotus menu bears the ring of truth.
Now, any use of the Lotus menu by Borland is a commercial use and deprives Lotus of a portion of its "reward," in the sense that an infringement claim if allowed would increase Lotus' profits. But this is circular reasoning: broadly speaking, every limitation on copyright or privileged use diminishes the reward of the original creator. Yet not every writing is copyrightable or every use an infringement. The provision of reward is one concern of copyright law, but it is not the only one. If it were, copyrights would be perpetual and there would be no exceptions.
The present case is an unattractive one for copyright protection of the menu. The menu commands (e.g., "print," "quit") are largely for standard procedures that Lotus did not invent and are common words that Lotus cannot monopolize. What is left is the particular combination and sub-grouping of commands in a pattern devised by Lotus. This arrangement may have a more appealing logic and ease of use than some other configurations; but there is a certain arbitrariness to many of the choices.
If Lotus is granted a monopoly on this pattern, users who have learned the command structure of Lotus 1-2-3 or devised their own macros are locked into Lotus, just as a typist who has learned the QWERTY keyboard would be the captive of anyone who had a monopoly on the production of such a keyboard. Apparently, for a period Lotus 1-2-3 has had such sway in the market that it has represented the de facto standard for electronic spreadsheet commands. So long as Lotus is the superior spreadsheet--either in quality or in price--there may be nothing wrong with this advantage.
But if a better spreadsheet comes along, it is hard to see why customers who have learned the Lotus menu and devised macros for it should remain captives of Lotus because of an investment in learning made by the users and not by Lotus. Lotus has already reaped a substantial reward for being first; assuming that the Borland program is now better, good reasons exist for freeing it to attract old Lotus customers: to enable the old customers to take advantage of a new advance, and to reward Borland in turn for making a better product. If Borland has not made a better product, then customers will remain with Lotus anyway.
Thus, for me the question is not whether Borland should prevail but on what basis. Various avenues might be traveled, but the main choices are between holding that the menu is not protectable by copyright [THE SCYLLA] and devising a new doctrine that Borland's use is privileged [THE CHARYBDIS]. No solution is perfect and no intermediate appellate court can make the final choice.
[THE SCYLLA]To call the menu a "method of operation" is, in the common use of those words, a defensible position. After all, the purpose of the menu is not to be admired as a work of literary or pictorial art. It is to transmit directions from the user to the computer, i.e., to operate the computer. The menu is also a "method" in the dictionary sense because it is a "planned way of doing something," an "order or system," and (aptly here) an "orderly or systematic arrangement, sequence or the like." Random House Webster's College Dictionary 853 (1991).
[THE CHARYBDIS] A different approach would be to say that Borland's use is privileged because, in the context already described, it is not seeking to appropriate the advances made by Lotus' menu; rather, having provided an arguably more attractive menu of its own, Borland is merely trying to give former Lotus users an option to exploit their own prior investment in learning or in macros. The difference is that such a privileged use approach would not automatically protect Borland if it had simply copied the Lotus menu (using different codes), contributed nothing of its own, and resold Lotus under the Borland label.
The closest analogue in conventional copyright is the fair use doctrine. E.g., Harper & Row, Publishers, Inc. v. Nation Enters., 471 U.S. 539, 85 L. Ed. 2d 588, 105 S. Ct. 2218 (1985). Although invoked by Borland, it has largely been brushed aside in this case because the Supreme Court has said that it is "presumptively" unavailable where the use is a "commercial" one. See id. at 562. But see Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music, Inc., 127 L. Ed. 2d 500, 114 S. Ct. 1164, 1174 (1994). In my view, this is something less than a definitive answer; "presumptively" does not mean "always" and, in any event, the doctrine of fair use was created by the courts and can be adapted to new purposes.
But a privileged use doctrine would certainly involve problems of its own. It might more closely tailor the limits on copyright protection to the reasons for limiting that protection; but it would entail a host of administrative problems that would cause cost and delay, and would also reduce the ability of the industry to predict outcomes. Indeed, to the extent that Lotus' menu is an important standard in the industry, it might be argued that any use ought to be deemed privileged.
In sum, the majority's result persuades me and its formulation is as good, if not better, than any other that occurs to me now as within the reach of courts. Some solutions (e.g., a very short copyright period for menus) are not options at all for courts but might be for Congress. In all events, the choices are important ones of policy, not linguistics, and they should be made with the underlying considerations in view.
Should we choose the Scylla? The Charybdis? Or sail around entirely and let Congress decide?
This is the question OvG will address.
One of the biggest challenges in reviewing a fair use analysis is to have the constellation of disparate decisions of varying precedential effect at your command.
The Copyright Office provides a fair use case index. However, it doesn't break apart the PNAE analyses, doesn't cite actual opinion language (i.e., the raw logical propositions), or include some of the copyrightability opinions relevant here.
Accordingly, to ensure that my analysis included all the precedential propositions, I wrote my own interactive, sortable index.
I decided to provide it here for your consideration, but recognize that it was highly informal, being originally for my own personal use.
There's roughly ~50 cases outside the OvG opinions in this constellation..
Clicking up and down arrows will change the sort order. Clicking the checkbox will show/hide the column.
Sun Microsystems released the first public implementation of JAVA in 1996 (though James Gosling, Mike Sheridan, and Patrick Naughton had been working on it since 1991).
In August 2005, Google acquired Android, Inc., as part of a plan to develop a smartphone platform. Developer adoption was critical to capturing market share from competing phones, such as Apple's iPhone, that would also be released in the near future (the iPhone came out in 2007). Since developers were already familiar with JAVA, Google decided to use the Java language for the Android platform.
Accordingly, in late 2005, Google approached Sun about the possibility of taking a license to use and adapt the entirety of JAVA for mobile devices. They also discussed a possible co-development partnership deal with Sun under which Java technology would become an opensource part of the Android platform, adapted for mobile devices. Despite negotiating for over several months, they were unable to reach a deal.
In 2007, Google Inc., announced its Android software platform for mobile devices.
The first phones go on sale in 2008.
In 2008, the Java API had grown from its original eight packages to 166 packages with over six hundred classes with over six thousand methods. Google's Android platform replicated the same package, method and class names, definitions and parameters of the 37 Java API packages from the Java 2SE 5.0 platform. The district court provided a nice example:
Though typically there are many more than the two lines of implementing code. Indeed, Google wrote six thousand-plus subroutines (methods) and six hundred- plus classes of implementing code. The Android platform has its own API, these 37 packages being part of the 168 total packages in that API.
While Google's packages retained the groupings from the original, the actual sequences of methods in the listings are different. That is, the sequence of methods in the class Math in Android is different from the sequence in the same class in Java, although all of the methods in the Java version can be found somewhere in the Android version, at least as shown in their respective listings.
In 2009, Dr. Bloch (who had worked at Sun from August 1996 through July 2004, eventually holding the title of "distinguished engineer") worked on Google's Android project for approximately one year. While working on the Android team, Dr. Bloch contributions to the Android platform included a nine-line rangeCheck function from JAVA, which appeared in a class containing 3,179 lines of code. When discovered, the rangeCheck lines were removed.
Oracle Corporation acquired Sun Microsystems on January 27, 2010.
Thus, in summary, the three items at issue were, with the first two being, effectively, discarded:
In 2010, Oracle files suit against Google in the Northern California District alleging that Google’s Android mobile operating system infringed Oracle’s patents and copyrights. Incidentally, CAFC hears the appeal and not the 9th circuit because of the patent claim - even after those claims are dropped. This is another benefit to having a large patent portfolio, as it can help you select whether you want CAFC to hear the appeal or not.
It is, generally, true that the Supreme Court's (SCOTUS) opinion supercedes the underlying opinions. But where SCOTUS is intentionally or unintentionally vague in its reasoning, we should consider lower court decisions for reference. Posture / context affects interpretation.
As of 04/2021, there are generally six opinions that are worth our consideration, broken into two threads:
Summary: Relying heavily on (its own interpretation of) Lotus v. Borland, the Court concludes that the API declaring code is not copyrightable.
Summary: CAFC overrules the district court.
Summary: SCOTUS declines to hear the case.
Summary: The district court jury hears the entire fair use question and finds fair use.
Summary: CAFC overrules as a matter of law, determining that juries only determine historical facts.
Summary: SCOTUS overrules, finding fair use as a matter of law and noting that the 7th amendment doesn't guarantee a jury's consideration of fair use. SCOTUS doesn't address the copyrightability question.
The Court first provides a very methodical walkthrough of API operation.quote If you've read the API overview in this writeup, it basically covers the same terriroty, but focusing on JAVA.
After that, Judge Alsup gives a very thorough review of the case lawquote, specifically touching upon:
Following this comprehensive survey, the Court then announces that it will use the following precedential doctrines in its analysis quote :
The Court applies those doctrines in an ordered fashion:
This opinion starts strong, but I'm afraid its reasoning grows progressively more vague (CAFC will be similarly underwhelmed).
For example, the opinion says:
Really? Is that what those cases held? The reasoning here is vague. The phrase "functional requirements for compatibility" doesn't appear in Sony. It does appear in Sega. The court quoted Sega above in the caselaw section, saying:
These discrepancies are things CAFC will pick on in their opinion.
I think it's very important in all these decisions, to keep in mind how narrowly tailored they are to the facts at hand.
Here, the court acknowledged several times that less than all the code at issue had been considered:
There's no real discussion digging into the API structure. There's no real application of the Abtraction Filtration Comparison test (something CAFC will also take issue with). APIs often involve variations on a creative selection. What were those selections? How were they varied?
In a dark humor sort of way, this is rather funny. CAFC hears Alice v. CLS Bank appeals all the time invalidating patent coverage for general software concepts, so for a party to say "just give them patent law, that should do it" is rather amusing.
The case returns to the district court and proceeds to trial on fair use. *All aspects* of the fair use analysis are given to the jury. After roughly one week of evidence and several days of deliberations, the jury finds that Google's use of the declaring lines of code and the SSO of the 37 API packages was FAIR USE.
The district court's opinion then considers the reasonableness of the jury's conclusions.
Specifically:
This factor is broken into commerciality and transformation sub-factors.
Commercialityquote - The court infers that the jury either:
Transformativeness:quote
Bad Faith:quote quote
Summary (N.B., this isn't treated like a "scorecard", the factors may not be given equal weight; still, courts usually phrase their reasoning so a majority of the factors come out on one side):
As you may have inferred, approaching fair use determinations in this manner may seem a bit problematic. The jury is basically operating as a "black box": we gave them some questions, they gave us some answers. Which factors did the jury find most relevant? Dunno. Why? Dunno. Which facts were considered in relation to those elements? Dunno. Why? Dunno.
Asking the district court judge to "guesstimate" the jury's reasoning is unfair and doesn't really help the precedential record much.
Typically, questions of "fact" go to the jury and questions of "law" are decided by the judge. I'm not sure why the parties agreed to send everything to the jury here (I'll put an update here if I find an explanation in the docket). You can send "special interrogatories" to the jury, asking them to explain their reasoning (I did ask a litigator friend and he said that sometimes the parties won't submit interrogatories if they're both confident that the jury is going to come out on their side and they don't want to belabor the proceedings). Absent such interrogatories, the law presumes the existence of findings necessary to support the verdict the jury reached.
CAFC provides a bit of clarification in its opinion. quote
Fortunately, CAFC and the Supreme Court will establish that juries only determine historical facts and the judge will determine the inferences to be drawn from those facts. So the precedential record should be better in future cases.
Oracle appeals the district court's determination of fair use to the CAFC.
Wrapped within the fair use question are three preliminary questions concerning juries and fair use (this is actually part of an ongoing application of the Supreme Court's U.S. Bank decision, trying to figure out the jury's role in various mixed questions of law and factquote), answered as follows:quote:
With that out of the way, CAFC applies these conclusions and standard of review to the fair use analysis of the district court. As discussed above, the district court sent everything to the jury.quote CAFC finds the district court's analysis deficient as follows:
Recall, that the district court considered that hte code was used in smartphones, rather than in desktops or laptops, to be transformative. However, here, CAFC says:
CAFC concedes to the functional nature of the API, though it ascribes little value to the concession (contrast with the subsequent SCOTUS opinion which gives this factor so much weight that it changes the PNAE order to lead with it). You can tell by the excerpt below that Judge Boudin's Charybdis is at the forefront of CAFC's mind.quote
In fairness to the next SCOTUS opinion, though, it's API declaratory code at issue here, not software qua software, and so Congress' intent is a bit more vague.
So a big issue here is what to do with the 1995 SCOTUS Campbell v. Acuff Rose decision dealing with a parody song. Normally, the Effect on the Market factor was given great weight, but in Campbell, SCOTUS said the factors should be evenly considered.
Despite Campbell, the Ninth Circuit has still been giving the fourth factor a lot of weight, but CAFC here does the right thing and says:
CAFC performs the analysis, finding that the record demonstrates considerable market harm.
CAFC concludes that the factor weighs heavily against Google, even under the post-Campbell analysis.
Summary (N.B., this isn't treated like a "scorecard", the factors may not be given equal weight; still, courts usually phrase their reasoning so a majority of the factors come out on one side; "are to be explored, and the results weighed together, in light of the purposes of copyright.”"):
CAFC concludes with a summary assessment of Google's activities.
Let's discuss the Majority opinion first and then discuss the Dissent.
The Majority Opinion is broken down as follows:
The philosophy portion on pages 15-18 argues for the policy basis in the decision quote basically laying the groundwork for choosing Boudin's Charybdis:
I won't belabor this part of the opinion too much - basically the SCOTUS majority is applying "gentle" rhetoric, highlighting points and interpretations amenable to their position, being silent on the others, and inviting Congress to step in if they disagree:
(That quote is actually from the preceding fair use summary on Pages 12-14)
This quote is a great example of the gentle rhetoric applied throughout. "We don't say that, Macaulay said that, but who likes taxes anyway?" Surely less taxes are a good thing. But logically, the assertion is vague. All individual rights are impositions on other folks' rights - does my right not to be murdered "tax" your conduct? I suppose it does, but only certain perspectives would characterize it that way.
This is a short section, basically agreeing with CAFC on the jury issue.quote
Basically, from a historical perspective as regards the 7th amendment objection, this wasn't one of the doctrines in 1791 required to go to a jury, rather, fair use was a matter of equity rather than common law.
The majority doesn't stick with the normal PNAE order, but I'll reorder their comments below for consistency with the normal approach.
SCOTUS spends most of their time on the "transformative" subfactor, before explaining why they're giving the "commercial" and "bad faith" subfactors less weight. quote
SCOTUS acknowledges that there was literal copying, but "since virtually any unauthorized use of a copyrighted computer program (say, for teaching or research) would do the same, to stop here would severely limit the scope of fair use in the functional context of computer programs."
SCOTUS then references the factual record and amici for support:
The record here demonstrates the numerous ways in which reimplementing an interface can further the development of computer programs. The jury heard that shared interfaces are necessary for different programs to speak to each other. App. 125 (“We have to agree on the APIs so that the application I write to show a movie runs on your device”). It heard that the reimplementation of interfaces is necessary if programmers are to be able to use their acquired skills. Id., at 191 (“If the API labels change, then either the software wouldn’t continue to work anymore or the developer . . . would have to learn a whole new language to be able to use these API labels”). It heard that the reuse of APIs is common in the industry. Id., at 115, 155, 663. It heard that Sun itself had used pre-existing interfaces in creating Java. Id., at 664. And it heard that Sun executives thought that widespread use of the Java programming language, including use on a smartphone platform, would benefit the company. Id., at 130-133.
Amici supporting Google have summarized these same points—points that witnesses explained to the jury. See, e.g., Brief for Copyright Scholars as Amici Curiae 25 (“[T]he portions of Java SE that Google reimplemented may have helped preserve consistency of use within the larger Java developer community”); Brief for Microsoft Corporation as Amicus Curiae 22 (“[A]llowing reasonable fair use of functional code enables innovation that creates new opportunities for the whole market to grow”); Brief for 83 Computer Scientists as Amici Curiae 20 (“Reimplementing interfaces fueled widespread adoption of popular programming languages” (emphasis deleted)); Brief for R Street Institute et al. as Amici Curiae 15-20 (describing Oracle’s reimplementation of other APIs); see also Brief for American Antitrust Institute as Amicus Curiae 7 (“Copyright on largely functional elements of software that [have] become an industry standard gives a copyright holder anti-competitive power”).
The logical import of this litany is not always clear. For example: "Sun executives thought that widespread use of the Java programming language, including use on a smartphone platform, would benefit the company." Surely the assertion isn't that "the purpose of Google's use was to gratify the expectation of Sun executives"? What is this here for then? Presumably it's establishing that some sort of custom or expectation (something like estoppel?) in the community was prevalent and consistent with Google's purpose.
The "commercial" and "bad faith" subfactors are addressed in just two paragraphs:
There are two other considerations that are often taken up under the first factor: commerciality and good faith. The text of §107 includes various noncommercial uses, such as teaching and scholarship, as paradigmatic examples of privileged copying. There is no doubt that a finding that copying was not commercial in nature tips the scales in favor of fair use. But the inverse is not necessarily true, as many common fair uses are indisputably commercial. For instance, the text of §107 includes examples like “news reporting,” which is often done for commercial profit. So even though Google’s use was a commercial endeavor—a fact no party disputed, see 886 F. 3d, at 1197—that is not dispositive of the first factor, particularly in light of the inherently transformative role that the reimplementation played in the new Android system.
As for bad faith, our decision in Campbell expressed some skepticism about whether bad faith has any role in a fair use analysis. 510 U. S., at 585, n. 18, 114 S. Ct. 1164, 127 L. Ed. 2d 500. We find this skepticism justifiable, as “[c]opyright is not a privilege reserved for the well-behaved.” Leval 1126. We have no occasion here to say whether good faith is as a general matter a helpful inquiry. We simply note that given the strength of the other factors pointing toward fair use and the jury finding in Google’s favor on hotly contested evidence, that factbound consideration is not determinative in this context.
This is probably the most important factor in the analysis (the Majority leads with it). While addressing much Sturm and Drang, the SCOTUS majority basically assesses the API in accordance with Judge Boudin's Charybdis approach, focusing upon interface adoption. quote
Again, it's a little unclear what role the custom/estoppel type comments imply here.
The majority correctly observes that we're not dealing with your "run of the mill" software here. The following is the core of the whole majority opinion and, really, the core of all of OvG:
These features mean that, as part of a user interface, the declaring code differs to some degree from the mine run of computer programs. Like other computer programs, it is functional in nature. But unlike many other programs, its use is inherently bound together with uncopyrightable ideas (general task division and organization) and new creative expression (Android’s implementing code). Unlike many other programs, its value in significant part derives from the value that those who do not hold copyrights, namely, computer programmers, invest of their own time and effort to learn the API’s system. And unlike many other programs, its value lies in its efforts to encourage programmers to learn and to use that system so that they will use (and continue to use) Sun-related implementing programs that Google did not copy. Although copyrights protect many different kinds of writing, Leval 1116, we have emphasized the need to “recogni[ze] that some works are closer to the core of [copyright] than others,” Campbell, 510 U. S., at 586, 114 S. Ct. 1164, 127 L. Ed. 2d 500. In our view, for the reasons just described, the declaring code is, if copyrightable at all, further than are most computer programs (such as the implementing code) from the core of copyright. That fact diminishes the fear, expressed by both the dissent and the Federal Circuit, that application of “fair use” here would seriously undermine the general copyright protection that Congress provided for computer programs. And it means that this factor, “the nature of the copyrighted work,” points in the direction of fair use.
While "[t]hat fact" may diminish those fears (well, the logical basis for those fears), the majority surely also has Boudin's fear of a "host of administrative problems that would cause cost and delay, and would also reduce the ability of the industry to predict outcomes" in mind. The majority's (arguably Panglossian) celebration of fair use in the policy/philosophy section may be an implicit assertion that they don't consider these problems much of a concern ("The upshot, in our view, is that fair use can play an important role in determining the lawful scope of a computer program copyright, such as the copyright at issue here. It can help to distinguish among technologies").
While arguably just a banal observation about functional character, there's an interesting quote that may be relevant to dynamic linking analysis:
Though not stated explicitly, the Amount analysis is colored by the Nature analysis.quote
The majority acknowledges that the declaratory code was copied wholesale:
However, the majority then looks to the nature of the API to expand its analysis:
Eventually, the majority makes explicit that the Nature analysis (as embodied in the Purpose) is dictating its reasoning here:
We do not agree with the Federal Circuit’s conclusion that Google could have achieved its Java-compatibility objective by copying only the 170 lines of code that are “necessary to write in the Java language.” 886 F. 3d, at 1206. In our view, that conclusion views Google’s legitimate objectives too narrowly. Google’s basic objective was not simply to make the Java programming language usable on its Android systems. It was to permit programmers to make use of their knowledge and experience using the Sun Java API when they wrote new programs for smartphones with the Android platform. In principle, Google might have created its own, different system of declaring code. But the jury could have found that its doing so would not have achieved that basic objective. In a sense, the declaring code was the key that it needed to unlock the programmers’ creative energies. And it needed those energies to create and to improve its own innovative Android systems.
We consequently believe that this “substantiality” factor weighs in favor of fair use.
SCOTUS again colors it analysis based upon the Nature factorquote
Citing parody is a bit odd, as it was the nature of parody that mitigated the market for the copyrighted work. Here, SCOTUS focuses on the nature of the copyrighted work:
On the other hand, Google’s copying helped Google make a vast amount of money from its Android platform. And enforcement of the Sun Java API copyright might give Oracle a significant share of these funds. It is important, however, to consider why and how Oracle might have become entitled to this money. When a new interface, like an API or a spreadsheet program, first comes on the market, it may attract new users because of its expressive qualities, such as a better visual screen or because of its superior functionality. As time passes, however, it may be valuable for a different reason, namely, because users, including programmers, are just used to it. They have already learned how to work with it. See Lotus Development Corp., 49 F. 3d, at 821 (Boudin, J., concurring).
The record here is filled with evidence that this factor accounts for Google’s desire to use the Sun Java API. See, e.g., App. 169-170, 213-214. This source of Android’s profitability has much to do with third parties’ (say, programmers’) investment in Sun Java programs. It has correspondingly less to do with Sun’s investment in creating the Sun Java API. We have no reason to believe that the Copyright Act seeks to protect third parties’ investment in learning how to operate a created work. Cf. Campbell, 510 U. S., at 591-592, 114 S. Ct. 1164, 127 L. Ed. 2d 500 (discussing the need to identify those harms that are “cognizable under the Copyright Act”).
Many would hotly contest that last point. The SCOTUS majority likely has Boudin's discussion of QWERTY in mind here:
Which is a very reasonable observation. The hotly contested issue, however, is: does that difference matter? How do we know that Congress didn't intend to protect interfaces in such situations?
If, as Justice Kennedy observed in his concurrence to Campbell, we should not accord fair use to someone who merely places "the characters from a familiar work in novel or eccentric poses", then why shouldn't we protect an interface applied to a "novel or eccentric" backend? Are we to assume the desire for adoption, without direct remuneration, will itself be sufficient to motivate API designers in the future?
The majority elaborates upon its policy motivations before concluding to discount the factor:
Finally, given programmers’ investment in learning the Sun Java API, to allow enforcement of Oracle’s copyright here would risk harm to the public. Given the costs and difficulties of producing alternative APIs with similar appeal to programmers, allowing enforcement here would make of the Sun Java API’s declaring code a lock limiting the future creativity of new programs. Oracle alone would hold the key. The result could well prove highly profitable to Oracle (or other firms holding a copyright in computer interfaces). But those profits could well flow from creative improvements, new applications, and new uses developed by users who have learned to work with that interface. To that extent, the lock would interfere with, not further, copyright’s basic creativity objectives. See Connectix Corp., 203 F. 3d, at 607; see also Sega Enterprises, 977 F. 2d, at 1523-1524 (“An attempt to monopolize the market by making it impossible for others to compete runs counter to the statutory purpose of promoting creative expression”); Lexmark Int’l, 387 F. 3d, at 544 (noting that where a subsequent user copied a computer program to foster functionality, it was not exploiting the programs “commercial value as a copyrighted work” (emphasis in original)). After all, “copyright supplies the economic incentive to [both] create and disseminate ideas,” Harper & Row, 471 U. S., at 558, 105 S. Ct. 2218, 85 L. Ed. 2d 588, and the reimplementation of a user interface allows creative new computer code to more easily enter the market.
The uncertain nature of Sun’s ability to compete in Android’s market place, the sources of its lost revenue, and the risk of creativity-related harms to the public, when taken together, convince that this fourth factor—market effects—also weighs in favor of fair use.
Note, again, that the court ties its reasoning closely to the facts here at issue:
Summary (N.B., this isn't treated like a "scorecard", the factors may not be given equal weight; still, courts usually phrase their reasoning so a majority of the factors come out on one side):
The Dissenting Opinion is broken down as follows:
At the outset, note that Thomas doesn't equivocate about copyrightability.
The Court reaches this unlikely result in large part because it bypasses the antecedent question clearly before us: Is the software code at issue here protected by the Copyright Act? The majority purports to assume, without deciding, that the code is protected. But its fair-use analysis is wholly inconsistent with the substantial protection Congress gave to computer code. By skipping over the copyrightability question, the majority disregards half the relevant statutory text and distorts its fair-use analysis. Properly considering that statutory text, Oracle’s code at issue here is copyrightable, and Google’s use of that copyrighted code was anything but fair.
The Court wrongly sidesteps the principal question that we were asked to answer: Is declaring code protected by copyright? I would hold that it is.
The Dissent takes the more conservative interpretation of the Act.
Computer code occupies a unique space in intellectual property. Copyright law generally protects works of authorship. Patent law generally protects inventions or discoveries. A library of code straddles these two categories. It is highly functional like an invention; yet as a writing, it is also a work of authorship. Faced with something that could fit in either space, Congress chose copyright, and it included declaring code in that protection.
The Copyright Act expressly protects computer code. It recognizes that a “computer program” is protected by copyright. See 17 U. S. C. §§109(b), 117, 506(a). And it defines “‘computer program’” as “a set of statements or instructions to be used directly or indirectly in a computer in order to bring about a certain result.” §101. That definition clearly covers declaring code—sets of statements that indirectly perform computer functions by triggering prewritten implementing code.
Again, even though no one's saying it, everyone has Alice v CLS Bank in the back of their mind.
The dissent first notes oddities in the majority's fair use analysis.
But the majority’s application of fair use is far from ordinary.
By skipping copyrightability, the majority gets the methodology backward, causing the Court to sidestep a key conclusion that ineluctably affects the fair-use analysis: Congress rejected categorical distinctions between declaring and implementing code. But the majority creates just such a distinction. The result of this distorting analysis is an opinion that makes it difficult to imagine any circumstance in which declaring code will remain protected by copyright.
Tellingly, the majority evaluates the factors neither in sequential order nor in order of importance (at least two factors are more important under our precedent) . . . Because the majority’s mistaken analysis rests so heavily on this factor, I begin with it as well.
Though I'm going to use the normal order below . . .
Despite Campbell, the dissent refers to this as the "second most" important factor quote
Regardless, Google fares no better on transformative use. A court generally cannot find fair use unless the copier’s use is transformative. A work is “transformative” if it “adds something new, with a further purpose or different character, altering the first with new expression, meaning, or message.” Campbell, 510 U. S., at 579, 114 S. Ct. 1164, 127 L. Ed. 2d 500. This question is “guided by the examples [of fair use] given in the preamble to §107.” Id., at 578, 114 S. Ct. 1164, 127 L. Ed. 2d 500. Those examples include: “criticism, comment, news reporting, teaching . . ., scholarship, or research.” §107. Although these examples are not exclusive, they are illustrative, and Google’s repurposing of Java code from larger computers to smaller computers resembles none of them. Google did not use Oracle’s code to teach or reverse engineer a system to ensure compatibility. Instead, to “avoid the drudgery in working up something fresh,” id., at 580, 114 S. Ct. 1164, 127 L. Ed. 2d 500, Google used the declaring code for the same exact purpose Oracle did. As the Federal Circuit correctly determined, “[t]here is nothing fair about taking a copyrighted work verbatim and using it for the same purpose and function as the original in a competing platform.” 886 F. 3d, at 1210.
The majority acknowledges that Google used the copied declaring code “for the same reason” Oracle did. Ante, at 1203. So, by turns, the majority transforms the definition of “transformative.” Now, we are told, “transformative” simply means—at least for computer code—a use that will help others “create new products.” Ibid; accord, ante, at 1203 (Google’s copying “can further the development of computer programs”).
That new definition eviscerates copyright. A movie studio that converts a book into a film without permission not only creates a new product (the film) but enables others to “create products”—film reviews, merchandise, YouTube highlight reels, late night television interviews, and the like. Nearly every computer program, once copied, can be used to create new products. Surely the majority would not say that an author can pirate the next version of Microsoft Word simply because he can use it to create new manuscripts.
Ultimately, the majority wrongly conflates transformative use with derivative use. To be transformative, a work must do something fundamentally different from the original. A work that simply serves the same purpose in a new context—which the majority concedes is true here—is derivative, not transformative. Congress made clear that Oracle holds “the exclusive rights . . . to prepare derivative works.” §106(2). Rather than create a transformative product, Google “profit[ed] from exploitation of the copyrighted material without paying the customary price.” Harper, 471 U. S., at 562, 105 S. Ct. 2218, 85 L. Ed. 2d 588.
The second-most important factor—“the purpose and character of the use, including whether such use is of a commercial nature or is for nonprofit educational purposes,” §107(1)—requires us to consider whether use was “commercial” and whether it was “transformative.” Campbell, 510 U. S., at 578-579, 114 S. Ct. 1164, 127 L. Ed. 2d 500. Both aspects heavily favor Oracle.
Begin with the overwhelming commercial nature of Google’s copying. In 2015 alone, the year before the fair-use trial, Google earned $18 billion from Android. That number has no doubt dramatically increased as Android has grown to dominate the global market share. On this scale, Google’s use of Oracle’s declaring code weighs heavily—if not decisively—against fair use.
The majority attempts to dismiss this overwhelming commercial use by noting that commercial use does “not necessarily” weigh against fair use. Ante, at 1204. True enough. Commercial use sometimes can be overcome by use that is sufficiently “transformative.” Campbell, 510 U. S., at 579, 114 S. Ct. 1164, 127 L. Ed. 2d 500. But “we cannot ignore [Google’s] intended purpose of supplanting [Oracle’s] commercially valuable” platform with its own. Harper, 471 U. S., at 562, 105 S. Ct. 2218, 85 L. Ed. 2d 588 (emphasis in original). Even if we could, we have never found fair use for copying that reaches into the tens of billions of dollars and wrecks the copyright holder’s market.
The dissent doesn't discuss Good Faith / Bad Faith.
Though acknowledging the API's highly functional character, the dissent's analysis of this factor is likewise deferential to Congress. quote
This factor requires courts to assess the level of creativity or functionality in the original work. It generally favors fair use when a copyrighted work is more “informational or functional” than “creative.” 4 M. Nimmer & D. Nimmer, Copyright §13.05[A][2][a] (2019). Because code is predominantly functional, this factor will often favor copying when the original work is computer code. But because Congress determined that declaring and implementing code are copyrightable, this factor alone cannot support a finding of fair use.
The majority, however, uses this factor to create a distinction between declaring and implementing code that in effect removes copyright protection from declaring code. It concludes that, unlike implementing code, declaring code is far “from the core of copyright” because it becomes valuable only when third parties (computer programmers) value it and because it is “inherently bound together with uncopyrightable ideas.” Ante, at 1202 - 1203.
Congress, however, rejected this sort of categorical distinction that would make declaring code less worthy of protection.
The dissent calls out the majority on its "inherit binding" rhetoric.
Finally we get to the key point. The Majority looked at Boudin's Scylla and Charybdis and said: "We're going with the Charybdis."
The dissent looks at Boudin's Scylla and Charybdis and says: "We're not going with either."
That's not the analogy I'd use, but the point is still very well said. To the extent there is a choice, it may be more appropriate for Congress than the courts.
The dissent concludes, observing that the Nature factor taints the majority's analysis.
This is a short, three paragraph analysis. quote
Basically, the dissent focuses upon the verbatim copying of the API declaratory code:
Google does not dispute the Federal Circuit’s conclusion that it copied the heart or focal points of Oracle’s work. 886 F. 3d, at 1207. The declaring code is what attracted programmers to the Java platform and why Google was so interested in that code. And Google copied that code “verbatim,” which weighs against fair use. Harper, 471 U. S., at 565, 105 S. Ct. 2218, 85 L. Ed. 2d 588. The majority does not disagree. Instead, it concludes that Google took no more than necessary to create new products. That analysis fails because Google’s use is not transformative. Campbell, 510 U. S., at 586, 114 S. Ct. 1164, 127 L. Ed. 2d 500 (recognizing that this fourth factor “will harken back to the [purpose-and-character] statutory facto[r]”). This factor thus weighs against Google.
Even if Google’s use were transformative, the majority is wrong to conclude that Google copied only a small portion of the original work. The majority points out that the 11,500 lines of declaring code—enough to fill about 600 pages in an appendix, Tr. of Oral Arg. 57—were just a fraction of the code in the Java platform. But the proper denominator is declaring code, not all code. A copied work is quantitatively substantial if it could “serve as a market substitute for the original” work or “potentially licensed derivatives” of that work. Campbell, 510 U. S., at 587, 114 S. Ct. 1164, 127 L. Ed. 2d 500. The declaring code is what attracted programmers. And it is what made Android a “market substitute” for “potentially licensed derivatives” of Oracle’s Java platform. Google’s copying was both qualitatively and quantitatively substantial.
As in various lower court decisions, the dissent considers this the most important factor. quote
By copying Oracle’s code to develop and release Android, Google ruined Oracle’s potential market in at least two ways.
First, Google eliminated the reason manufacturers were willing to pay to install the Java platform. Google’s business model differed from Oracle’s. While Oracle earned revenue by charging device manufacturers to install the Java platform, Google obtained revenue primarily through ad sales. Its strategy was to release Android to device manufacturers for free and then use Android as a vehicle to collect data on consumers and deliver behavioral ads. With a free product available that included much of Oracle’s code (and thus with similar programming potential), device manufacturers no longer saw much reason to pay to embed the Java platform.
For example, before Google released Android, Amazon paid for a license to embed the Java platform in Kindle devices. But after Google released Android, Amazon used the cost-free availability of Android to negotiate a 97.5% discount on its license fee with Oracle. Evidence at trial similarly showed that right after Google released Android, Samsung’s contract with Oracle dropped from $40 million to about $1 million. Google contests none of this except to say that Amazon used a different Java platform, Java Micro Edition instead of Java Standard Edition. That difference is inconsequential because the former was simply a smaller subset of the latter. Google copied code found in both platforms. The majority does not dispute—or even mention—this enormous harm.
The dissent also objects to the majority's speculation upon lock in and public benefit before concluding.
If the majority is going to speculate about what Oracle might do, it at least should consider what Google has done. The majority expresses concern that Oracle might abuse its copyright protection (on outdated Android versions) and “‘attempt to monopolize the market.’” Ante, at 1208 - 1209. But it is Google that recently was fined a record $5 billion for abusing Android to violate antitrust laws. Case AT.40099, Google Android, July 18, 2018 (Eur. Comm’n-Competition); European Comm’n Press Release, Commission Fines Google €4.34 Billion for Illegal Practices Regarding Android Mobile Devices to Strengthen Dominance of Google’s Search Engine, July 18, 2018. Google controls the most widely used mobile operating system in the world. And if companies may now freely copy libraries of declaring code whenever it is more convenient than writing their own, others will likely hesitate to spend the resources Oracle did to create intuitive, well-organized libraries that attract programmers and could compete with Android. If the majority is worried about monopolization, it ought to consider whether Google is the greater threat.
By copying Oracle’s work, Google decimated Oracle’smarket and created a mobile operating system now in over 2.5 billion actively used devices, earning tens of billions of dollars every year. If these effects on Oracle’s potential market favor Google, something is very wrong with our fair-use analysis.
Summary (N.B., this isn't treated like a "scorecard", the factors may not be given equal weight; still, courts usually phrase their reasoning so a majority of the factors come out on one side):
(Leval is a law review article, not a case or statutory authority)
Note that Harper v. Row, another SCOTUS case, said the opposite: "[Fair use presupposes 'good faith' and 'fair dealing'" which makes sense for a doctrine based in equity. The point here seems to be Campbell's note that "being denied permission to use a work does not weigh against a finding of fair use". That's not the same as saying bad faith doesn't have any role.
There are places where the majority's analysis is poorly supported, but as Congress explicitly authorized SCOTUS to make a rolling policy assessment on Fair Use, the opinion is not clearly erroneous.
Personally, given the complexity of the issues, I would have construed Congress' authorization narrowly, either joining with Justice Thomas and Alito in dissent or asking the majority to rewrite the opinion to better ground its reasoning in congressional intent before I signed on.
In a "perfect world" I'd rather SCOTUS err on the side of modest interpretation and have Congress spur them on, rather than err on the side of overreach and be reined in. But I realize it's not that simple, and that I'm certainly not cognizant of all the modern day-to-day interplay between Congress, lobbyists, SCOTUS, etc.
SCOTUS isn't as bound by precedent as CAFC. So reasoning based upon "policy" isn't as inappropriate at SCOTUS as it would be at CAFC. If they want to add a new shade to a statutory interpretation (e.g., the Fair Use balancing under the Copyright Act), even if it pushes against the weight of the case law, that's their prerogative.
That said, with great power comes great responsibility. Amici are not elected. Amici are not cross-examined before a jury. Amici do not answer before a Senate committee. Every time SCOTUS cites an amici in support of a policy point I wince a little.
(To be clear, I think it's great if amici help courts find propositions, but courts should be very careful not to cite amici as if they were themselves propositions; E.g., "Some of the amici refer to what Google did as 'reimplementation'" - who cares what the amici think? Show me the legal proposition)
When reasoning as a matter of law, the legal propositional base should be thoroughly analyzed.
CAFC did an objectively better job of that. Just consider the below quick/crude relative number of legal citations appearing in each of their analyses:
Obviously there's more to the analysis than just raw number of citations. And again, I expect CAFC partly has more cites because they're aware that they're more bound by precedent. But you can see there's a clear disparity even from this crude side-by-side.
In any event, I had fewer "cringe moments" reading the CAFC opinion, but that's not to say the SCOTUS opinion was "wrong."
I don't think you can categorically say one way or the other. It has pros and cons for each.
That said, I'm concerned that it will be part of a continuing pattern whereby large companies take advantage of markets / ecosystems created by individuals or small groups of individuals.
You create and post interesting content on a social media platform - that platform benefits.
You create and develop an interesting startup - a large company acquires you.
The risk and creative effort was the individuals' - the large companies just wait at the finish line to see who survives. IP (in theory) is supposed to guard against that dynamic, at least providing the individual some negotiating leverage rather than outright capitulation to the larger entity.
Think about programming langauges. Sure, there are sometimes corporate sponsors, but the language designers are often individuals on their own or supported by small supporting foundation: example list.
In contrast, who has the resources to massively rewrite a language's backend for novel hardware? Typically large megacorporations.
So there's a risk here that the pendulum has swung too far the other way.
This is a very interesting open question.
Quenya is the Elvish language created by J.R.R. Tolkien. The hypo is basically: "If Tolkien writes a Quenya dictionary and someone writes a novel using that dictionary, has OvG made that novel fair use?" There was a Star Trek case with the Klingon language with a similar question that settled before reaching an opinion.
The SCOTUS majority takes pains to explain that it is focusing on software specifically
With Quenya, arguably it is the "creativity, beauty, purpose" motivating the usage.
So one could distinguish the Quenya hypothetical based upon this difference in factual propositions. You also have several literary cases, protecting characters and other literary elements, that may mitigate the "transformativeness" argument.
Are those differences enough to result in a difference in outcome? I'm not sure, but they're certainly nontrivial distinctions that a court would need to wrestle with.
It'll depend on your specific facts.
Some folks don't have to do anything. Others should completely abandon their business model.
Many situations can be addressed with creative technical / legal / business strategic hacks. OvG changes the landscape, but you can (often) still reach your destination.
But the names are more than just names — they are symbols in a command structure wherein the commands take the form java.package.Class.method()
. . .
Each package was broken into classes and those in turn broken into methods. For example, java.lang (a package) included Math (a class) which in turn included max (a method) to return the greater of two inputs, which was (and remains) callable as java.lang.Math.max with appropriate arguments (inputs) in the precise form required (see the example above).
. . .
. . .
This order holds that, under the Copyright Act, no matter how creative or imaginative a Java method specification may be, the entire world is entitled to use the same method specification (inputs, outputs, parameters) so long as the line-by-line implementations are different. To At odds with the compilation defiinition To repeat the Second Circuit's phrasing, "there might be a myriad of ways in which a programmer may . . . express the idea embodied in a given subroutine." Computer Associates, 982 F.2d at 708. The method specification is the idea. The method implementation is the expression. No one may monopolize the idea. In sum, Google and the public were and remain free to write their own implementations to carry out exactly the same functions of all methods in question, using exactly the same method specifications and names. Therefore, at the method level — the level where the heavy lifting is done — Google has violated no copyright, it being undisputed that Google's implementations are different. As for classes, the rules of the language likewise insist on giving names to classes and the rules insist on strict syntax and punctuation in the lines of code that declare a class. As with methods, for any desired functionality, the declaration line will always read the same (otherwise the functionality would be different) — save only for the name, which cannot be claimed by copyright. Therefore, under the law, the declaration line cannot be protected by copyright. This analysis is parallel to the analysis for methods. This now accounts for virtually all of the three percent of similar code.As noted, the jury hung on Google’s fair use defense, and the district court declined to order a new trial given its conclusion that the code and structure Google copied were not entitled to copyright protection. On appeal, Oracle argues that: (1) a remand to decide fair use “is pointless”; and (2) this court should find, as a matter of law, that “Google’s commercial use of Oracle’s work in a market where Oracle already competed was not fair use.” Appellant Br. 68.
. . .
commercial purposes, did so verbatim, and did so to the detriment of Oracle’s market position. These undisputable facts, according to Oracle, should end the fair use inquiry. Oracle’s position is not without force. On many of these points, Google does not debate Oracle’s characterization of its conduct, nor could it on the record evidence. Google contends, however, that, although it admittedly copied portions of the API packages and did so for what were purely commercial purposes, a reasonable juror still could find that: (1) Google’s use was transformative; (2) the Java API packages are entitled only to weak protection; (3) Google’s use was necessary to work within a language that had become an industry standard; and (4) the market impact on Oracle was not substantial. On balance, we find that due respect for the limit of our appellate function requires that we remand the fair use question for a new trial. First, although it is undisputed that Google’s use of the API packages is commercial, the parties disagree on whether its use is “transformative.” Google argues that it is, because it wrote its own implementing code, created its own virtual machine, and incorporated the packages into a smartphone platform. For its part, Oracle maintains that Google’s use is not transformative because: (1) “[t]he same code in Android . . . enables programmers to invoke the same pre-programmed functions in exactly the same way;” and (2) Google’s use of the declaring code and packages does not serve a different function from Java. Appellant Reply Br. 47. While Google overstates what activities can be deemed transformative under a correct application of the law, we cannot say that there are no material facts in dispute on the question of whether Google’s use is “transformative,” even under a correct reading of the law. As such, we are unable to resolve this issue on appeal.
. . .
Ultimately, we conclude that this is not a case in which the record contains sufficient factual findings upon which we could base a de novo assessment of Google’s affirmative defense of fair use. Accordingly, we remand this question to the district court for further proceedings. On remand, the district court should revisit and revise its jury instructions on fair use consistent with this opinion so as to provide the jury with a clear and appropriate picture of the fair use defense.
Next, while we have concluded that it was error for the trial court to focus unduly on the functional aspects of the packages, and on Google’s competitive desire to achieve commercial “interoperability” when deciding whether Oracle’s API packages are entitled to copyright protection, we expressly noted that these factors may be relevant to a fair use analysis. While the trial court erred in concluding that these factors were sufficient to overcome Oracle’s threshold claim of copyrightability, reasonable jurors might find that they are relevant to Google’s fair use defense under the second and third factors of the inquiry. See Sega, 977 F.2d at 1524-25 (discussing the Second Circuit’s approach to “break[ing] down a computer program into its component subroutines and subsubroutines and then identif[ying] the idea or core functional element of each” in the context of the second fair use factor: the nature of the copyrighted work). We find this particularly true with respect to those core packages which it seems may be necessary for anyone to copy if they are to write programs in the Java language. And, it may be that others of the packages were similarly essential components of any Java language-based program. So far, that type of filtration analysis has not occurred.
Importantly for our purposes, the Supreme Court has made clear that “[n]either the Copyright Statute nor any other says that because a thing is patentable it may not be copyrighted.” Mazer v. Stein, 347 U.S. 201, 217 (1954). Indeed, the thrust of the CONTU Report is that copyright is “the most suitable mode of legal protection for computer software.” Peter S. Menell, An Analysis of the Scope of Copyright Protection for Application Programs, 41 Stan. L. Rev. 1045, 1072 (1989); see also CONTU Report at 1 (recommending that copyright law be amended “to make it explicit that computer programs, to the extent that they embody an author’s original creation, are proper subject matter of copyright”). Until either the Supreme Court or Congress tells us otherwise, we are bound to respect the Ninth Circuit’s decision to afford software programs protection under the copyright laws. We thus decline any invitation to declare that protection of software programs should be the domain of patent law, and only patent law.
To repeat, Section 102(b) states that "in no case does copyright protection for an original work of authorship extend to any idea, procedure, process, system, method of operation . . . regardless of the form . . . "
That a system or method of operation Yes, it is creative. Yes, it is original. Yes, it resembles a taxonomy. But it is nevertheless a command structure, a system or method of operation - a long hierarchy of over six thousand commands to carry out pre-assigned functions. For that reason, it cannot receive copyright protection - patent protection perhaps - but not copyright protection.
See, e.g.