On Making A Good Faith Effort To Get Permisison

Whenever a prospective client tells me they want to use a pre-existing work of art but they couldn't find the artist to ask permission, my first question is, "how hard did you look?" Their responses tells me a lot about them. Is this someone who is genuinely trying but stumped? Or is this a person who isn't interested in doing some hard work? If you've spent any time reading this blog, you know I'm big on getting permission before using someone else's work. First, it's legally much safer for you than relying on fair use. Second, it's just good karma. This is one arena where I'm not an adherent of Grace Hopper's immortal quip, "It is better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission."

You don't want to get sued for copyright infringement, which is why you should always ask permission before using someone else's work. And a cursory effort isn't going to cut it. No, you need to make a "good faith effort." In the law, we generally define that as what a reasonable person would determine is a diligent effort to produce a desired result. In other words, you need to do more than a quick Google search before calling it quits. It's tempting to think that because access to the internet is so ubiquitous, everyone must be online and instantly reachable. Unfortunately that's just not the case. Sometimes artists are hard to find, which means you gotta do some real sleuthing. 

So what does a good faith effort look like in the real world?

1. You have to determine if the rights are still owned by anyone. Generally speaking, art made prior to 1923 is in the public domain and therefore owned by no one. But even if you suspect that's the case, do the research anyway. You don't want to be sued by the estate of a long-dead jazz musician just because you assumed his work was up for grabs.

This chart is a useful tool to get your mind oriented around the issue. You should also use as many research tools as you (and your wallet) feel comfortable with. Google is a good place to start but not the be-all/end-all. There are private copyright search companies you can hire. You can hire a lawyer. You can also do a search through the Copyright Office database (as well as the Writer's Guild if the work is written) to track down ownership over a specific piece of work.

I should note that these tools will only help you determine if a work of art has been registered or published. Any work that hasn't been will require some more creative investigating on your part, I'm afraid.

2. You have to get in touch with the owner. This is where things usually fall apart for many of the people who contact me. Unfortunately there's no guaranteed way to find someone, especially if they don't want to be found. Certainly, you can start with the tools I mentioned above, and if the work is registered somewhere, there's usually some contact information associated with it. But ultimately, you may just have to call around.

I once had a client try to get in touch with a reclusive painter who had virtually no online presence. But through an exhaustive Google search, the client found a gallery in New Mexico that was selling some of that artist's paintings and with a little prodding, got the gallery to put her in touch with the painter.

Sometimes artists have managers or agents and you have to make contact through them instead. Go online and see if you can drum up client lists for some of those agencies. Maybe some of the rights to the work have been sold or licensed to a third party. Contact them and see if they can put you in touch. Maybe the artist is giving a lecture at a local university. Go to the lecture and try to meet him or her in person.

There's a fine line obviously between stalking and diligence and I strongly recommend you hew towards the latter. I don't recommend going to the Whitepages and soliciting them at home since that's pretty creepy and they probably won't respond well to it. But a communiqué sent through appropriate professional channels is okay.

As you can see, there are a lot of options open to you. You might have to get creative, and periodically do a gutcheck to see if what you're doing violates social norms, but these are all strategies you should consider before giving up.

3. Lastly, when you do get in touch, be nice, be friendly, but be direct with your ask. Don't waste their time and don't overstay your welcome. Get what you want, IN WRITING, pay for it, and get to work. There's no guarantee they'll cooperate, but if you act like an entitled brat, that's a surefire way to guarantee they won't.

Ultimately you may not find the artist, or you may find them and get no response. At that point, proceeding with their work becomes a question of risk. Did you make enough of an effort? Does fair use apply to the way you want to use the work? Before you make a judgment call on either of those questions, talk to a lawyer first. Making a good faith effort to find the artist and ask permission can sometimes be hard work, but from my seat it's critical to keeping your karma good and your ass out of court.

Don’t Accuse People of Being Murderers on TV

Ten years ago I was an associate producer on a Court TV show that was investigating wrongful conviction claims. Each episode would center on a man or woman serving life in prison for a murder they say they didn’t commit. During one particular episode, I felt we had really solid circumstantial evidence that the real killer had gotten away. I was so sure this other guy - I’ll call him “Dave” - was the real killer that I had written some voiceover accusing him of it. 

We sent the rough cut with my temp voiceover to our lawyer before passing it to the network for notes. A day later, the lawyer called me and told me to rewrite the voiceover. I didn’t understand. If we had the evidence why couldn’t we say we thought Dave was the guy? He told me that we could talk about the evidence, we could even discuss if other people thought Dave was the real killer, but we couldn’t directly accuse him since we didn’t want him to sue us for libel. I continued to push back and he very patiently told me that I was out of my fucking mind and hell would freeze over before he’d allow the voiceover as I'd written it to get sent to the network.

Of course now I totally get it. 

Last week, CBS aired a mini-series about the 1996 murder of JonBenet Ramsey. What’s shocking is that the investigators openly and brazenly stated their belief that the Ramsey’s son, Burke, 9-years old at the time, was responsible for the murder and that Burke’s parents staged a more elaborate crime scene to protect their son. According to one of the investigators:

“I think Burke was upset about circumstances or Christmas presents, he probably would have been upset about her trying to snag a piece of pineapple. Out of anger, he may have struck her with that flashlight. I think we all agree on that.”

What’s not so shocking is that Ramsey’s attorney, L. Lin Wood, is now threatening to sue CBS for its “lies, misrepresentations, distortions and omissions.” CBS’s response to the threat? “CBS stands by the broadcast and will do so in court.”

Why would CBS allow its on-camera talent to accuse someone of murder? I have a couple of theories.

  1. CBS ended the broadcast with a disclaimer that the opinions of the investigators were just opinions on one of a number of possible theories. Maybe they thought the disclaimer was sufficient to protect them.
  2. Maybe they felt the case was so well litigated in the public sphere that any accusations against Burke were old hat.
  3. Maybe CBS felt that its reputation as a news gathering organization was enough to shield them from liability since the standards for news are different than those for documentaries.
  4. Maybe CBS was tired of using hedging language (more on that below) and wanted to come up with something that gave closure to a 20-year old cold case.
  5. Maybe they got some bad legal advice.

Whatever the reason, CBS is now staring down the barrel of a defamation lawsuit. In order for the Ramseys to win on a defamation claim, they would have to prove that 1) the statements made against them in the doc were false (i.e. since Burke was never charged, there’s no factual basis for accusing him), that 2) the statements were made with some level of negligence, and 3) the statements caused some actual harm to their character or reputation.

All told, I don’t think this would be hard to prove. But CBS may have an ace up its sleeve, which could account for its confident posturing against Wood. The Ramseys may be private citizens, but they are publicly known for this case; accusations having swirled around them for the last 20 years. CBS is likely to make the argument that they aren’t merely private figures, but instead “limited purpose public figures.” A limited purpose public figure is someone who has become well-known because of a particular issue. It’s not hard to envision a judge or jury buying that argument. Which means if they are indeed limited purpose public figures, the standard for proving defamation is much higher. In that case, they would have to show that CBS allowed false statements about them to be broadcast with actual malice, not negligence, which is typically reserved for private figures only. That is, an actual intent and desire to harm the Ramseys’ reputations further. It’s not an easy bar to meet and if this case goes forward, my money is on CBS A) winning, or B) settling with the Ramseys for a moderate sum.

I’m not sure if I find the initial accusation against Burke or CBS’s stoic attitude more shocking. Is it reckless? Who can say? CBS has been around long enough that I find it hard to believe they'd make a rookie mistake like this. My guess is they know what they’re doing (or at least think they do) and are betting on it working out in their favor. 

But it’s worth pointing out that many lawyers, myself included, prefer hedging language that either couches accusations behind known facts or is so squishy that an accusation can’t be reasonably implied. It’s why all criminal suspects, no matter how guilty they clearly are, are always referred to as “alleged.”  It’s why after a conviction, they are referred to as “convicted.” You’re not accusing anyone of murder by stating that they’re “accused of an alleged crime.” That’s just telling the audience the legal status of a suspect. That’s why saying “X says Y is the killer” is much less likely to get you sued than “I think Y is the killer.” You’re not asserting anything other than the fact that someone else thinks Y is the killer. Yeah it’s a little weasely, but, well, lawyers are sometimes weasely. That’s why I ended up rewriting all that voiceover ten years ago.

I can tell you that I certainly wouldn’t have counseled the producers to end with such a bold proclamation of assumed guilt. I can also tell you that if you produced a true-crime doc and came to me for legal advice, you would have a hell of a time convincing me to allow you to let the show go to air. But CBS has a lot of lawyers. Maybe they know something I don’t. Or maybe they made a stupid mistake. Time will tell. Regardless of how this works out for CBS, my advice to you is pretty simple: even if you have the evidence to prove it, don’t accuse people of being murderers on TV. Leave that to the courts.

Cinema Law: What are the Rights of a Documentary Subject?

This article originally appeared on Moviemaker.com on November 28, 2015. Republished here with permission.

Q: What rights does the subject of a documentary film have if the film falls apart?

As with all things in the law, the answer is: It depends. A documentary subject’s rights are dictated by two interrelated factors: the rights granted by contract with the filmmakers, and the rights granted by law.

Rights Granted by Contract

I feel like I say this so often I should trademark it: You need to put your agreement into writing prior to filming. Written contracts are crucial to any business relationship and are designed to ensure that participants know what they’re supposed to do and are held accountable if they don’t do it. When prospective clients approach me with legal problems, it’s a good bet they’re dealing with an issue that could’ve been avoided if they had put everything on paper first.

A good contract will explain what a documentary subject’s rights and duties, including what he or she can do if the film inexplicably halts production or falls apart in some other fashion. Will he or she have producing and creative input, or simply act as a conduit for storytelling? If it’s the former, will the subject have an ownership stake in the film? Can he or she take control of the production by buying up all the footage and/or hiring a new producing team to finish the film? If it’s the latter, can the subject withdraw the use of his or her likeness and story? What kind of oversight will the subject have to control how he or she is portrayed on camera?

Without a written contract, a lot of these questions are left up for grabs, and a subject’s ability to influence the outcome and direction of the film is limited.

Rights Granted by Law

Even without a written contract, a documentary subject still has options. The law provides a certain amount of built-in defenses to people who don’t want their identities misused in commercial settings. In particular, the law requires filmmakers to get their subjects’ permission to screen the finished product for an audience. Failure to do this means they could be in violation of their subjects’ publicity rights, and that could open them up to defamation and invasion of privacy claims.

Broadly speaking, publicity rights are a subject’s ability to control the commercial use of his or her name, image, likeness, story, or any other specific aspect of identity. The rights and remedies vary state by state, but they’re considered part of an overarching “right of privacy” that’s recognized in all 50 states. Seventeen states (most notably New York and California) have statutes preventing the unauthorized use of a person’s identity. The remaining states protect it through common law.

Smart filmmakers won’t leave this kind of thing to chance. They’ll acquire someone’s life rights in writing, not only to ensure the subject’s cooperation with the production, but also to appease insurance companies, financiers and studios. Insurance companies won’t provide the necessary Errors & Omission (E&O) coverage if there’s a strong likelihood the production was left open to liability by failing to secure these rights. Financiers won’t want to bankroll a film where the main subject’s story isn’t secured, and studios won’t buy a film if there’s a chance the film’s main subject could sue them for defamation and invasion of privacy.

If you’re the subject of a documentary film, this is your leverage over the filmmakers to ensure they don’t go forward with the film without your consent and participation. If the film is simply stalled, leveraging your publicity rights probably won’t get it back up and moving again, but you can at least make sure your story is safe and secure, ready to be granted to a filmmaker who is willing to put it all in writing. As it should be.

You Should Offer Licensing Options To Potential Infringers

“How do I protect my work online?”

I get asked that a lot. So much in fact that I’ve given half a dozen presentations on it over the past eighteen months. I could probably build my whole law practice around that one question and make a decent living at it. When you consider the ubiquity of the internet and the ease in which work can be taken and repurposed without your knowledge, you can see why it's such a pressing issue. Last year I partially addressed it in a blog post about licensing work to people who'd already infringed it. The gist of my argument was that instead of getting mad, maybe there was a way to get paid instead. After all, if the infringement has already taken place, why not try to make a few bucks off it?

But you don't have to wait until you've been infringed to make a deal. You should try and do it before the infringement even takes place. How? By offering licensing options to your work right up front!  As you'll see below, doing this is so simple you're going to kick yourself for not thinking of it sooner.

1. Be easy to contact. Wherever your work shows up - your website, Linkedin, Behance, Pinterest, Facebook, etc. - place your contact information in a conspicuous place. A lot of work is taken without permission because a potential buyer couldn’t get in touch with the artist, so this feels like an easy fix. Offer more than one way to get in touch so the buyer knows you're actually reachable. Some artists are understandably hesitant to give out their phone numbers, but as long as a buyer can reach you by email and at least one other method, you're good to go.

2. Tell them you're ready to do business. Put some variation of the phrase "Licenses available upon request. Contact for more information." clearly and visibly on any website where your work appears. This clearly communicates to the buyer that you're ready to do business. It's also good as an evidentiary CYA move if you ever had to prosecute an infringement case down the road. It's much harder for an infringer to argue in good faith that he didn't know your works were available for purchase if you state it in big bold letters. If certain pieces are not for sale, make sure they are clearly labeled as such. For example, "This image is not available for license or sale."

3. Be ready to do business when the requests come in. Have sales or licensing options ready to go. If the piece is for sale, indicate in writing whether or not the copyright (and all attendant ownership rights) is conveyed along with the actual physical piece. The buyer has a right to know if he’s getting the copyright or not. If you go the licensing route, you can use pre-existing licensing agreements like those at Creative Commons or you can make your own. If you choose the latter, be sure to include these terms:

  1. The amount of time the buyer can use your work;
  2. The purpose of his use;
  3. Whether or not he can make derivatives or copies;
  4. Whether or not he can distribute your work or its derivatives;
  5. The amount of the work he can use;
  6. The geographical location he can use your work in;
  7. Whether or not he must credit you as the author;
  8. Any fees, payments, royalties stemming from the use.

This isn't an exhaustive list of licensing terms (and they will vary depending on your comfort level), but it's a good start and should cover most scenarios. If you're savvy enough at programming, you can even create functionality in your website that allows buyers to license your artwork automatically, without ever needing to contact you.

Obviously this strategy isn't going to apply to all of you, and it won't always works either. Sometimes people just want to steal to see if they can get away with it. That said, it's my experience that most infringers don't realize they're doing something wrong and are more than willing to parlay with you if they only knew how. So give them the option. It's easy to do and the results could be an uptick in your business.  Considering how little effort this strategy requires, isn't it worth a shot

How To Write Emails Like A Lawyer

Email gets a bad rap these days for a lot of reasons. It’s permanent (i.e. not self-destructing like Snapchat), it’s not a good mobile communication solution, it takes too much time, there’s too much of it, it’s rife with spam, and so on and so forth. But I actually love email for a lot of those reasons (not the spam stuff, obviously). To me, these aren’t bugs, they’re features; they’re exactly what makes email a useful business

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