COPYRIGHT, CONTRACT, AND TECHNOLOGY David desJardins SIMS 296A Section 2 1. Introduction. A growing trend amongst owners of "intellectual property" is the protection of their property not just through the legal mechanisms specifically created for this purpose, such as copyright, but also through contractual and technological means. While the future is always difficult to predict, many observers expect this practice to continue to grow. Jessica Litman reports that many industry representatives already describe such means as far more important tools for their purposes than copyright law provides (1). Maureen O'Rourke writes of electronic information providers continually turning to contract to supplement and modify copyright (2). And Mark Lemley concludes that intellectual property is well on its way to becoming irrelevant in the computer world, as it is supplanted by contract (3). Any user of commercial software has been presented with "shrinkwrap" licenses which purport to restrict how one may use the software that one has ostensibly purchased. Most have also been presented with on-screen license agreements which they must explicitly "accept" in order to use certain software products. But these mechanisms are only the tip of the iceberg. A quantum change is ahead, when such restrictions or "agreements" become not just a useless piece of paper that one discards when one opens a box, or an annoying window that pops up when one installs a piece of software, but a fundamental, technologically enforced limitation on how one can access or interact with an information resource, which may well be much more expensive to circumvent than the value of the information itself. Basic systems of this sort already exist, such as the serial copy management system in digital audio tape recorders, which allows direct reproduction of originals but prevents further copying of those copies (4). This restriction is already broader than that imposed by basic copyright law---a DAT recorder has no notion of "fair use", and may prevent copying even when such copying would be completely permissible under the law. But enthusiasts such as Mark Stefik dream of "usage rights" which go much farther beyond copyright, to regulate essentially everything that a user might do with a digital work: e.g., using or listening to the work, transferring it to another party, extracting and embedding portions of the work, upgrading to a newer version of the work, etc. (5). And the information industry is firmly behind this movement. As Litman writes, a major goal of the U.S. White Paper on copyright (6) seems to be to help industry use contract law (and technology) to take away privileges that current copyright law affords to users (7). Why are these matters of public concern? If the owners of digital information wish to enter into voluntary contracts with the consumers of such information over how the information can be used, is that not inherently beneficial to both parties? The fundamental justification of contract law is that it is more efficient to allow individual parties to bargain as to how to exchange rights or goods amongst themselves, than it is for the government to decree how they may do so. Farnsworth writes, "From a utilitarian point of view, freedom to contract maximizes the welfare of the parties and therefore the good of society as a whole." (8) Indeed, the Coase Theorem states that in the absence of transaction costs, bargaining achieves optimal outcomes (9). And if technology can be used to rigorously monitor and enforce such agreements, is it not necessarily better to have agreements that are enforceable than agreements that are not? Of course, the answer to both questions is: not necessarily. There are several reasons why it may be preferable to enforce certain rights in law rather than allow all exchanges to be determined by bargaining and contract. Lemley lists three: to establish legal rules when parties cannot effectively bargain (e.g., because of transaction costs); when an agreement between parties may produce "externalities" that affect other parties not compensated by the contract; and when society finds certain sorts of agreements to be morally unacceptable (10). At least the first two issues apply with great force to intellectual property "usage rights", as we will discuss below. In regard to enforcement, there may also be practical reasons why one might desire that not all rights or obligations be strictly enforced at all times. For example, at least as some interpret the law, the present functioning of the Internet relies on the continual infringement of copyright (11). While this might be regarded as an undesirable situation, and one might wish to change the laws so that this is no longer the case, in practice one might still rationally choose allowing such violations to continue over shutting down the resource completely. In fact, the entire existing copyright system works quite differently than a literal reading of the law would suggest. According to the law, copyright owners have exclusive rights subject only to limited exceptions which are for the average person confusing and mysterious. As Litman writes, anyone who observes the behavior of users sees repeated violations of the law (12). Even to the extent that users do understand the law, only a small minority even claim to refrain from unauthorized copying of software (13). John Perry Barlow even argues, with others, that publishers frequently benefit from software piracy, by increasing their market share (14). Rights and obligations explicitly spelled out by licenses or contracts have been no more systematically enforced. And once again the violations of users often end up working to the benefit of information producers. Netscape gained an enormous market share by distributing its software to users for "evaluation purposes", who promptly ignored the licensing terms and continued using the software beyond the evaluation period. The company may have lost millions of dollars in sales, but it gained billions of dollars in market value. In this case, the company clearly did not really even want or expect the terms of its license to be strictly enforced on most individual users---whatever its reasons for writing its license as it did, the company knew realistically that the actual conduct of users would not be as strictly spelled out in the license. The actions of all parties were based on unspoken understanding about how individuals regard and respect such contracts, and not on a literal reading or execution thereof. In short, copyright and contract issues concerning intellectual property, especially digital information, have historically been conducted with a wink and a nod---with a certain level of understanding that many restrictions are simply not enforceable against individual users and that the actual behavior of users will be determined by a mixture of pragmatism and morality. Even if I were to reveal that I had improperly installed my personal copy of Windows 95 on two different computers (an act of unauthorized copying, under copyright law), Microsoft could hardly benefit economically by taking legal action against me. Similarly, if I were to reveal that out of curiosity or boredom or for some other reason of my own that I had disassembled a part of the code and examined it (a violation of the license agreement), Microsoft would have no economically viable way to enforce its rights. So, aside from the observation that intellectual property owners have arguably benefited in the past from infringement of their apparent rights under the law (which is itself enough reason to conclude that enforcement of such rights is not always an unalloyed good), a more fundamental reason for concern about universal enforcement comes from an intellectual conservatism regarding copyright law. The extension of copyright protection into new domains opened up by technology has often been justified by the notion that it is better to make evolutionary changes in a system that works well, than it is to replace it with something new and untested. Indeed, the White Paper makes the statement, "We are once again faced with significant changes in technology that upset the balance that currently exists under the Copyright Act. Our goal is to maintain the existing balance." (15) Whether it is good or bad to now enforce contractual "usage rights" regarding every aspect of how a user may benefit from an information resource, and preventing technical violations that have been routine in the past, it is definitely a major change from the way people have historically used books, documents, recordings, and digital information resources, and not a continuation of historical precedent or the "existing balance." As mentioned above, the imposition of copyright laws or contract or license terms which users then routinely ignore is nothing new. By itself, this is not a noteworthy trend. What is so significant is the realization that these previously unenforceable restrictions are in process of becoming real, effectively enforceable restrictions, with the advent of technological protection systems. Such systems offer the possibility of raising both copyright and contractual restrictions on how users consume and interact with intellectual property to a new level of seriousness---a world in which it may be effectively impossible to (economically) circumvent such restrictions. That world may look very different than the world we are used to, and have significant new and disturbing characteristics. At the very least, such a substantial change warrants our careful attention and concern, and should not be automatically regarded as benign even to the extent that it simply implies increased enforcement of existing law. 2. Contracts. The freedom to enter into contracts and the enforcement of agreements between private parties is a fundamental principle of our legal and economic system. It is natural, therefore, for owners of intellectual property to consider entering into specific agreements with users regarding the rights and privileges that those users acquire, rather than simply transferring the package of rights afforded by copyright law. Indeed, copyright may be viewed as a package of "default rules" providing a starting point for an agreement between the information owner and the user, but subject to amendment by mutual consent. There are many reasons why the intellectual property owners might wish to contract around these default rules. For example, one of the original reasons for the growth of "shrinkwrap licenses" for software was to inhibit software rental, which was viewed as contributing to software piracy (16). More broadly, a contract may attempt to prevent a user from selling or otherwise disposing of a copy, from modifying or translating a copy, from "reverse engineering" of software, from making additional copies even when such copying would be "fair use" or otherwise permitted, or from exercising many other privileges normally afforded by copyright law (17). A contract might also distinguish between different types of users for the purpose of price discrimination: different types of buyers might pay different amounts for different bundles of rights (18). In general, it seems that two sorts of contractual agreements might be associated with an information resource. First, a contract might authorize a user to exercise those rights (such as copying) exclusively reserved to the copyright owner by copyright law. Secondly, a contract might, as a condition of acquiring or using an information resource, require a user to refrain from actions which would not themselves violate the exclusive rights of the copyright owner. Some contract provisions might be somewhat ambiguous between these two cases: if a contract sets forth specific terms under which a copy may be made, then that contract may be authorizing the user to exercise the copyright owner's exclusive rights (if those rights exist and if they would otherwise be infringed by the act of copying), or that contract may be restricting the user from exercising rights not normally controlled by the copyright owner (if no copyright protection exists, or if the act of copying would otherwise be permitted under one of the exceptions to the exclusive rights, such as "fair use"). While the freedom to contract is an important legal principle, it is not absolute even in the United States, and it can also vary from nation to nation. "Allowing parties to enter into contracts is not synonymous with granting them a license to enforce all of the terms of such contracts, no matter how onerous or how much at odds with public policy they may be." (19) The European Community's Computer Programs Directive sets forth specific public policy objectives which may not be altered by contract: "The making of a back-up copy by a person having a right to use the computer program may not be prevented by contract in so far as it is necessary for that use", and, "The person having a right to use a copy of a computer program shall be entitled ... to observe, study, or test the functioning of the program." (20) The question of enforcement becomes particularly relevant in regard to so-called "contracts of adhesion." Contract law is based on three predicates: offer, acceptance, and consideration (21). The bargain involved in the making of a contract is often described as a "meeting of the minds", where the parties negotiate and agree on the terms of a contract (22). But a "contract of adhesion" describes a contract which is prepared by one party and submitted to the other on a "take it or leave it" basis (23). It would be unworkable to invalidate all such contracts, due to their commercial necessity (24). But due to the imbalance of power in the preparation of such agreements, and the recognition that the adhering party may not generally read or truly assent to all of the terms of the contract, adhesion contracts are generally enforced only after being reviewed for fairness and commercial justification (25). Significant portions of the U.C.C. are devoted to the problem of accomodating such contracts (26). Traditional contract law requires explicit assent to the terms of a contract. "If A offers land to B for a price, saying B may signify his acceptance by eating his breakfast or by hanging out his flag on Washington's birthday or by attending church on Sunday, he does not thereby make such action by B operative as an acceptance against B's will." (27) However, the requirement for such explicit acceptance has been greatly eroded in the case of contracts of adhesion. The White Paper explicitly promotes the use of such contracts and of implicit acceptance in regard to intellectual property: "Providers may inform the user that a certain action---the entering of a password, for instance, to gain access to the service or a particular work, or merely the use of the service---will be considered acceptance of the specified terms and conditions of the electronic license." (28) The most extreme example of this is the "shrinkwrap license", which purports to bind the purchaser who simply breaks the seal on a software package, perhaps before even having had a chance to examine the contract (29). While the current legal status of such contracts is unclear, proposed revisions to the U.C.C. would make them explicitly enforceable in most circumstances (30), if still subject of course to judicial review of their terms. An extreme point of view asserts that such contracting is inherently more efficient than relying on state definitions of intellectual property rights, because the parties would not have agreed to such an arrangement if it were inefficient (31). In practice, though, we recognize that parties may often consent to such contracts not because they rationally choose the terms of such contracts as promoting their own interests, but because bargaining over the terms is effectively impossible, or would cost far more than the potential gain. These issues will be discussed in more detail below. 3. Technological Protection Systems. The primary function of a technological protection system is to protect a digital work or information resource; that is, to restrict or limit the ways in which it can be accessed or used, or to ensure compensation to the owner of the work for such use. In the language of the White Paper, "technological solutions can be used to prevent or restrict access to a work; limit or control access to the source of a work; limit reproduction, adaptation, distribution, performance or display of the work; identify attribution and ownership of a work; and manage or facilitate copyright licensing." (32) In order for a technological protection system to function, two elements are necessary. First of all, a system must exist which can inhibit or prevent unauthorized access to or use of a work. The White Paper refers to such systems as "copyright protection systems" (33). Secondly, the system must have proper information regarding the work, so that it can determine whether a given access is authorized or unauthorized, or perhaps collect payment for such access. The White Paper refers to such information as "copyright management information" (34). Mark Stefik refers to similar concepts, under the name of "trusted systems" (35) and "attached usage rights" (36). While the basic concepts are the same, the White Paper's definitions of these concepts are broader than Stefik's. (Perhaps this simply represents the narrower scope of Stefik's patents?) Stefik expects a trusted system to "reliably and infallibly" enforce its restrictions (37), while the White Paper says that a copyright protection system need only "inhibit" violations (38). And Stefik's usage rights are necessarily attached to the work (39), while the White Paper explicitly states that copyright management information related to a work may not necessarily be included in or digitally linked to that work (40). In general, the definitions in the White Paper seem well thought out to apply to the broadest possible range of such systems, while Stefik's notions are more limited to his particular vision of how such systems should be implemented. In the context of this paper, it is important to note that the White Paper does not limit technological systems to the protection of copyright rights or even to restrictions agreed upon by contract between the parties. While a copyright protection system is defined as a system which prevents or inhibits the violation of any of the exclusive rights of a copyright owner, there is no requirement that the system be strictly limited in this regard (41). A system which restricts all copying, both that which would be copyright violation and that which would be fair use, qualifies as a copyright management system. (A system which solely restricts copying of a non-copyrightable work or works would appear not to qualify, but a system which protects both copyrightable and non-copyrightable works apparently would.) The White Paper is extremely clear that copyright owners are not to be expected to make any special effort to "allow or facilitate" access which would be fair use if it were feasible (42). In other words, if they can get away with obstructing fair use of their works, good for them. Similarly, copyright management information includes both information about the copyright status of a work, and information about the "terms and conditions" that a copyright owner may impose on uses of that work (43). This would seem to include terms and conditions for uses which are not restricted as a matter of copyright law but which may be restricted by a contractual agreement between the owner and the user, or even terms and conditions that the owner seeks to impose unilaterally without a contract. According to the language of the draft legislation proposed in the White Paper, it would seem that even non-copyrightable works can have associated "copyright management information", which might state "terms and conditions" for their use (44). (In this case, perhaps Stefik's more general term "usage rights" would be more descriptive.) The fundamental public policy question associated with technological protection systems is the extent to which they should be granted a special legal status. Stefik seems not particularly concerned with legal protection for technological protection systems; his analysis generally represents that the integrity of such systems can be assured by private means based on public-key encryption (45). The White Paper, on the other hand, asserts that "it is clear that technology can be used to defeat any protection that technology may provide." (46) The truth is probably somewhere in between. While one can imagine technological systems, based on public-key technology and trusted third parties, which are in fact secure against the resources available to their adversaries, it seems far easier to construct and deploy such systems if one has, in addition, legal recourse against those who attempt to subvert the systems, or to distribute mechanisms for doing so. It is relatively difficult to use the threat of legal action to stop a single individual from privately subverting a protection system, but it is relatively easy to use the same threat to stop a large corporation from building and widely distributing systems which provide such subversion. If the cost of subverting a system is too high for a single individual but not too high for a large organization, that is the case in which legal remedies will likely be effective or at least helpful in preventing such subversion. The White Paper proposes strong legal protections both for copyright protection systems and for copyright management information (47). This includes both civil and criminal penalties for subverting such systems. The appropriateness of such a legal regime, and the question of how broad it should be, is a major focus of this paper. The draft legislation of the White Paper would prohibit any device or service whose "primary purpose or effect" is to circumvent "without authority of the copyright owner or the law" any system which "inhibits the violation of any of the exclusive rights of the copyright owner under section 106" of the copyright law (48). The White Paper derides as wildly implausible the notion that this will restrict the deployment of systems intended solely for legal purposes, claiming that it would be extremely rare for a system to be used, to the "surprise" of its maker, primarily for a purpose different than that for which it was intended (49). However this seems neither unusual nor surprising. Cheap handguns may be intended by their makers primarily for self-defense, or for protecting the populace against government tyranny, but in practice they may primarily be used for criminal acts; the reason is that there is no practical way to manufacture a handgun which can be used for the intended purpose and not for unintended and improper purposes as well. Analogously, the structure of proposed technological protection systems would seem to make it difficult or impossible to manufacture circumvention systems which perform such circumvention only in the case of "fair use", even if it were not the case that an objective determination of whether a particular use is "fair use" would require a lengthy court proceeding. And there is no incentive to information providers to facilitate circumvention of the system for the purpose of fair use; in fact, the opposite is true: if the system can be designed so that circumvention is an "all or nothing" act, then the information owner could render all access not directly authorized by the owner, even that which would be "fair use", illegal under Federal law. The draft legislation would also prohibit removing or altering copyright management information, which is defined to include "terms and conditions for uses of the work", and, in case that is not broad enough, "such other information as the Register of Copyright may prescribe by regulation." (50) There is no requirement that the terms and conditions be reasonable or appropriate, or even that they be terms that the copyright holder is legally permitted to impose. Unlike the case for contracts of adhesion as discussed above, there is no promise of judicial review to ensure that the offered terms meet the test of fairness and commercial justification. With a traditional contract of adhesion, the burden is on the writer of the contract: to enforce the contract requires legal action, which incurs costs and also subjects the terms of the contract to judicial review. With copyright management systems and the draft legislation, owners of intellectual property can hope to reverse this situation: they can offer whatever terms they choose; the terms cannot be altered or removed without violating Federal law; the terms can be enforced by their own copyright protection systems; and those systems cannot be circumvented without violating Federal law. In theory the user might take legal action to invalidate such terms, but the onus for such action is shifted from the owner to the user of the information resource, and the cost of such action will often exceed any possible benefit to be derived. And it is not clear that even if the terms proposed would be invalid within a contract of adhesion, that that would be sufficient basis for requiring the copyright owner to modify the protection system to cease enforcing such terms. There is simply no requirement in the law that the terms be reasonable, or be agreed to by the parties, or be consistent with the public interest. These concerns are a major focus of this paper. There appears to be only one sentence in the White Paper expressing any concern for the scope of such technological protection systems: "Such security measures must be carefully designed and implemented to ensure that they not only effectively protect the owner's interests in the works but also do not unduly burden use of the work by consumers or compromise their privacy." (51) It is not clear, though, how the authors of the White Paper expect to ensure that such systems are so constructed, or what incentives they think information providers will have to do as they suggest. Perhaps they feel that competition will suffice; this seems to me extremely optimistic. 4. Transaction Costs. We will now examine in detail various areas of concern regarding the ability of information resource owners to impose arbitrary terms and conditions for the use of their works, both for the exercise of their exclusive rights under copyright law (such as the right to copy), and for the exercise of rights not normally restricted by copyright law (such as the right to read). If we accept the principle that in the absence of transaction costs or other barriers to effective bargaining, that bargaining generally results in optimal, efficient exchanges, then we can look for problems with that conclusion by examining the assumptions. The first assumption is that transaction costs are negligible, so that users dissatisfied with proposed terms can renegotiate them or seek out a competing provider at little cost. The White Paper takes the point of view that technological protection systems, as described above, reduce transaction costs: "Reliable information will also facilitate efficient licensing and reduce transaction costs for licensable uses of copyrighted works (both fee-based and royalty-free)." (52) This position certainly has some merit: it is difficult to disagree that access to reliable information makes bargaining easier and more efficient. However, this self-congratulatory stance regarding the reduction of transaction costs also overlooks some important considerations. The entire reason that contracts of adhesion exist is that transaction costs for traditional contracts are very high. For traditional matters governed by contract, such as the purchase of real property, the amounts at stake justify a serious effort to negotiate terms, to retain legal counsel for advice, and so on. But even so, transaction costs for the transfer of real property are quite high. Applying the same system to the purchase of a book or the viewing of a film would clearly be impractical in the extreme. This is a major benefit that the public has derived from the "bundle of rights" provided by copyright law. Although copyright law is certainly confusing to the typical user, and a definitive determination as to what is and is not permitted by under exemptions such as "fair use" can be complex and expensive, consumers at least benefit from having the same rules apply to many transactions. Under copyright law the typical consumer considering the purchase of a music CD has a reasonable idea of what one will or will not be able to do with the CD, and thus can fairly quickly evaluate whether the purchase price is fair. Once the CD is purchased, the consumer has few further decisions to make; thus the total transaction costs over the lifetime of the CD can be relatively low. On the contrary, consider a hypothethical music CD of the future, licensed using the technologies generally promoted by Mark Stefik as "drastically reducing" the "costs" associated with publishing (53). Instead of going to a store to purchase a music CD, one might shop from home over the Internet, and download it as a bitstream: definitely a reduction in transaction costs, assuming universal and inexpensive access to the Internet. On the other hand, instead of buying a music CD for a fixed price with a fixed bundle of rights associated with it, one might be presented with a collection of rights presented in Stefik's "usage rights language" (54): Right Code: Play Player: Musica-13B Copy Count: 1 Time-Spec: From 95/02/14 Until: 96/02/14 Access-Spec: Security-Level: 3 Fee-Spec: Fee: Metered $0.01 per 0:1:0 Min: $0.05 per 0/1/0 Account: 1997-200-567131 Is this a good deal, or not? In this case, it appears to be worthless, because the authorization to actually play the music has expired (at the time of writing of this paper). How long does it take the user to determine this? Supposing the authorization had not expired, suppose the user steps out of the room for a few minutes. Is it worth the trouble to walk over to the player and turn the music off, to save the cost of playing it? These are decisions that users have not previously had to contemplate. It is disingenuous to ignore them as elements of the "transaction cost", just as much as the cost of driving to the store or of using an electronic payment system (e.g., a credit card) to make a purchase. As Esther Dyson writes, one of the most valuable resources in the information age is people's "presence, time, and attention" (55). If our time and attention is consumed with figuring out what to buy, or pondering lengthy contracts, the efficiency of transactions cannot be said to be increased. Or, if we enter into agreements without having sufficient time to study and understand those agreements, then we are clearly worse off than if we were to have a thorough understanding of the agreements. The above example by Stefik represents an extremely simple pricing model. There is no obvious reason to believe that practical systems would not have more complex terms requiring much more analysis: different prices for different songs, perhaps some fixed cost up front, perhaps a sliding scale on which repeated playings become cheaper, possibly different prices for playing the music on different equipment with different levels of fidelity, and so on. Abstractly, the possibility of such flexible terms makes possible a mutually beneficial bargain between owner and user. But in practice, that potential gain has to be balanced against the transaction cost of evaluating each purchasing decision. In general, the smaller the individual transaction, the higher the transaction costs become relative to that transaction. A transaction cost that is negligible relative to the purchase of a home may not be negligible if applied to the purchase of a music CD. And a transaction cost that is negligible relative to the purchase of a music CD may not be negligible if applied to every playing of a single song. This is the main reason why the individual marketing of smaller and smaller units of intellectual property rights is of concern: as the unit of purchase becomes smaller, the problem of making intelligent buying decisions becomes more and more difficult. This is a trend which goes wholly unremarked both by Stefik and within the White Paper. Certainly this problem is not necessarily insurmountable. One possible type of solution, somewhat surprisingly not discussed by Stefik, would be for individuals to have automated "negotiating agents" which they can program with their buying preferences and authorize to negotiate on their behalf for various small purchases. Another possibility is that competition will force information sellers to converge on simple and uniform terms in order to gain market advantage---since buyers will prefer to purchase on terms that they understand. O'Rourke writes that "the market helps to ensure that the provisions of even standard form contracts are reasonable" (56), although she doesn't mention that the courts play a big role by not enforcing unreasonable provisions of adhesion contracts! And this seems far from assured to operate as efficiently as a true market believer would predict. The market has not operated, for example, to ensure that the prices charged for long-distance calls from different pay-telephone providers are always reasonable or consistent---some providers make money by exploiting consumers' lack of information, and the inconvenience of price comparison. Or to prevent phone sex operators from misleading people into making expensive overseas calls. It's hard to believe that similar exploitations won't develop in a market where everyone is making an enormous number of small transactions each day, in the absence of technological or regulatory solutions. As long as it is more expensive for consumers to seek out competitors or analyze terms of payment than to simply pay, competition is not very effective in maintaining equity between buyer and seller. A traditional benefit of contracts of adhesion is that they increase efficiency by standardizing the terms of agreement (57). But it is not clear that such benefits will necessarily carry over to online information transactions. Intellectual property owners may well want to offer different terms to different consumers for the purpose of price discrimination. Unlike a printed form contract, an electronic transaction offers, at least theoretically, the potential of offering different terms and conditions to every customer. While efficient from an abstract economic point of view, this can also increase inefficiency in practice by complicating purchasing decisions. 5. Bargaining Power. As Julie Cohen writes, "If the argument that individual readers can influence copyright management decisions by withholding their business is implausible, the argument that they may seek such changes by bargaining with copyright owners one-on-one is, quite simply, absurd." (58) In the ideal world of contract, parties come together, negotiate over terms, and strike a mutually satisfactory bargain. Both parties have equal bargaining power: either can decline the proposed arrangement and seek out another buyer or seller. The sale of intellectual property doesn't resemble this fictional economic model much at all. In the first place, the marginal cost to the seller of intellectual property is essentially zero, so that party should never walk away from any transaction. Yet if that were really the case, economic theory would predict that the market price would approach zero, and there would be no incentive to create intellectual property (59). The fundamental purpose of copyright is generally described as providing an incentive for the creation of intellectual property, by affording the copyright owner "exclusive" rights and therefore inhibiting ("unfair") competition. In other words, to increase the bargaining power of the seller relative to the consumer. Once an information provider has been afforded a monopoly over the sale of a particular information resource, the logic of competition no longer applies. (This also holds if competition is infeasible for other reasons than copyright; for example, if seeking out a competing vendor would be more costly than simply paying the asking price.) There are then many possible prices at which a mutually satisfactory (Pareto-optimal) bargain between buyer and seller may be struck. Game theorists understand the value of commitment in such a situation. If the seller can commit to a set of terms, so that the only option to the buyer is to accept or reject those terms, then the buyer will prefer accepting to rejecting (if the terms are appropriately chosen), and thus from among the possible bargains the seller can, through commitment, control which outcome occurs. Thus sellers, especially in relatively uncompetitive markets, often have little incentive to negotiate: they gain the power to dictate terms. Furthermore, negotiation is just as expensive for sellers as for buyers, giving them another reason to avoid it. Is the information marketplace a highly competitive or an uncompetitive world? It depends on your point of view. From a purely mechanical point of view, explicit transaction costs for the sale of informational goods can be made quite low. But, as discussed above, if the unit of merchandise is sufficiently small, then other kinds of transaction costs, such as the cost of decision-making or of negotiating, can become very significant and inhibit competition. Furthermore, there are paradoxes associated with competition in information markets: models of competition generally assume that all parties have perfect information at no cost, but that makes little sense when information itself is what is being bought or sold. Even when negotiation is possible, effective negotiation and price-setting can require a lot of information not generally available to users. Online transactions, such as those contemplated by Stefik and the White Paper for the use of intellectual property, potentially reveal a great deal of information about the consumer to the seller. Joel Reidenberg writes that consumers are generally unaware of the extent of transaction record keeping about their purchases, and that when customers do become aware of the uses of this information, they become angry and react negatively (60). No doubt for this reason, companies do not generally disclose their information practices (61). Presumably, customers who don't like the way that information about their transactions is used would pay more to have that information not used in that way. But how can customers possibly be expected to negotiate intelligently and effectively regarding their transactions information provider when companies don't even reveal how they use the information? Or, as Cohen writes, a reader might wish to read anonymously, and how can one obtain such a right if one must first reveal one's identity to bargain for it (62)? In a truly competitive marketplace, it would be as easy and natural for a potential consumer to present an information owner with that user's "terms and conditions" for accessing a work, as it would be for the owner to state its own terms. The fact that neither Stefik nor the White Paper seems to remotely consider such a possibility reveals the asymmetry that we all implicitly assume and accept in such transactions. There doesn't seem to be any immediate prospect of reducing that asymmetry, but we can keep it in mind in deciding whether proposed legal systems treat both providers and consumers of information equitably. If providers are to have more power to dictate terms than they would have in an ideal market, then it is not illogical for society to react to that by regulating such terms to some extent (much as the courts regulate the terms of contracts of adhesion). 6. Externalities. Since the fundamental motivation of the copyright law under the U.S. Constitution is to "promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts" (63), it is natural to consider the effects of copyright and intellectual property law as they affect society. Robert Kreiss makes a fundamental point about intellectual property: "There is a quid pro quo at the heart of the copyright system: if an author seeks benefits by commercializing a work, then the public should be able to benefit by having access to the work." (64) This principle should apply no less to the protection of intellectual property by other means, such as contract or technology, than to copyright, particularly when information providers seek the aid of the legal system in defending their contracts or technology against subversion. For example, many innovators have questioned for some time whether patents aid or retard progress in the software industry, although that topic is too far afield from the subject of this paper to explore further (65). Unlike patents, copyright cannot normally (when applied properly) prevent people from using their own ideas, so there is somewhat less concern about directly stifling innovation. But patents and copyright (as well as contract law, and technological protections) raise similar concerns regarding the public domain. It is a truism that the "original works of authorship" protected by copyright law are rarely wholly novel, that every work is to some extent based on those that came before (66). "Composers recombine sounds they have heard before; playwrights base their characters on bits and pieces drawn from real human beings and other playwrights' characters; novelists draw their plots from lives and other plots within their experience; software writers use the logic they find in other software; lawyers transform old arguments to fit new facts; cinematographers, actors, choreographers, architects, and sculptors all engage in the process of adapting, transforming, and recombining what is already 'out there' in some other form." (67) Without such creation there would be no new works for society to benefit from. Clearly, all else being equal, society benefits from placing works into the public domain, for they form the basis for new creations. A strong and healthy public domain protects authors from risking liability for copying which they cannot avoid, and from the burden of proving originality for every element of their works in order to benefit from copyright protection (68). We must therefore view copyright as a balance, between the need to provide incentives to authors to create new works, and the need to bring those works into the public domain to enable future works. This is, no doubt, why the Constitution provides only for "securing for limited Times" the exclusive rights of authors to their writings (69); reserving those rights indefinitely could ultimately be counterproductive. From this point of view, the concerns raised by contract or technological protection of intellectual property are obvious. Contract law contains no provision limiting the length of contracts regarding the use of intellectual property. Copyright protection systems, at least as envisioned by the White Paper, must protect works still covered by copyright to attain legally protected status, but they can wall off other works as well, and so long as such works are not a majority or the most sought-after of the contents, it would seem difficult to build circumvention systems to extract that public domain information without violating the proposed law. (There seems to be little doubt that intellectual property owners will want to use technological systems to protect noncopyrightable resources such as databases or collections of facts, as well as copyrighted information. Why not, if they can?) Time is not the real issue, though. With the steady expansion of copyright terms, one might well view copyright today as being effectively infinite in duration, certainly when compared to the pace of change on the Internet and the growth of the information society. The more important issue is not the movement of works wholesale into the public domain (although that is certainly desirable), but the right to extract, through "fair use" or otherwise, elements of existing protected works for the creation of new works. With regard to a contract between two or more parties, an "externality" is a positive or negative effect on other parties not compensated by the contract. In general, when parties bargain amongst themselves, they may reach a mutually satisfactory outcome which is not optimal for society as a whole, because they disregard the effects of their bargain on others. These issues, of the "public domain" and "fair use", arise in our discussion of externalities precisely because they are of this nature. Suppose, hypothetically, that an information consumer could purchase one of two forms of access to an information resource: "standard access" at a given price, which affords the same bundle of rights currently permitted by copyright law, or "limited access" at a lower price, in which the consumer sacrifices the right to "fair use" of the material. From the consumer's point of view, fair use is largely an externality; the benefit of fair use to society comes when the consumer uses it to advance the "useful Arts" by producing new works. Only a part of the benefit to society of such creation is transferred back to the consumer (as payment for those new works); thus, the consumer will tend to value the fair use privilege less than its value to society as a whole. So the consumer might choose to purchase "limited access" when "full access" would be more beneficial to society as a whole. This illustrates how contract can fail to achieve the optimal outcome. In such a situation, economic theory tells us that society can gain by subsidizing the purchase of the fair use right---by contributing enough of the external value that it expects to gain from the potential creation of future works to tip the balance and encourage the consumer to purchase "full access" rather than "limited access." The practical obstacles to this approach (e.g., how does one figure out how to value "full access" and "limited access" in lieu of a market for both) lead society to achieve a similar effect by simply stipulating fair use for consumers, and compensating copyright holders in other ways (for example, by extending the term of their copyrights, or granting them additional rights they desire). From the premise that copyright is not a "natural right" but a right created by society, there is no specific level of compensation or rights that society must be naturally obliged to confer on copyright holders; rather, the appropriate level remains a balance to be determined by consensus and experience, and considerations like the "value of fair use" are just one factor that should then be taken into account in that determination. And of course one can also recall that creators of intellectual property invariably benefited the creation of their own works from the public domain. The logic of such externalities, as it applies to copyright law in creating the privilege of "fair use", is no less applicable to contractually or technologically protected intellectual property. If it is in society's interest to encourage the growth of the public domain, then society has a legitimate reason to act to encourage or impose a right to "fair use" even in those situations where the parties at stake (information owner and information consumer) might individually choose to negotiate it away. 7. Systematic Enforcement. A major difference between the regime of intellectual property protection envisioned by the White Paper or by Stefik, and the present regime, is the prospect of systematic and effective enforcement. Observers of the present system understand that the typical consumer of information products neither understands the law very well, nor feels a strong moral obligation to follow it precisely. Individuals tend to think that commercial use of other people's intellectual property is improper, but their own private non-commercial uses are generally okay (70). There are two possible reactions to this observation. If one generally feels that the present copyright system works fairly well, one can take this "flexibility" on the part of individuals as to how strictly they follow the letter of the law as an integral aspect of that working system. Ejan Mackaay quotes David Vaver: "Copyright was never meant to stop people from repairing or reselling or using material in customary ways" (71)---even when a literal interpretation of the law would so imply. This is the viewpoint that I would call "intellectually conservative." If we have a working copyright system, and our goal is to have that system evolve in a gradual and incremental way to handle new technology and new types of information resources, then one might seek to preserve the practical aspects of how the present system works, either by writing into law some of the flexibility that individuals now generally assume for themselves, or by legal mechanisms that encourage information providers to continue to allow users that level of flexibility. On the other hand, one can view the prevalance of casual non-commercial copyright violations by individual users as a terrible flaw in the present system, which we may at last have the opportunity to rectify. In this more "activist" view, one might write stronger restrictions into law about how users can behave, launch educational efforts to convince users to obey the letter of the law more closely, and encourage the development of technological systems that can force users to obey restrictions that the law itself cannot effectively enforce. In short, one might follow exactly the path of the White Paper---even though the White Paper describes its own recommendations as simply maintaining the existing balance. Activism is not necessarily bad, nor is it necessarily bad to want to bring the actual way that people behave and their legal obligations in line with one another. But it should be recognized for the change that it is, rather than preserving the status quo. As Jessica Litman says, "Extending the prescriptions and proscriptions of the current copyright law to govern the everyday acts of non-commercial, non-institutional users is a fundamental change." (72) Without necessarily endorsing Litman's own radical approach to revising copyright, one can question whether there is adequate basis or public support for seeking to extend the practical application of copyright so far as the White Paper would. What Joel Reidenberg calls "Lex Informatica"---the rules for information policy imposed by technology rather than by law---operates in a fundamentally different manner than the legal regime. "Legal regulation depends primarily on judicial authorities for rule enforcement. Rule violations are pursued on an ex post basis before the courts. Lex Informatica, however, allows for automated and self-executing rule enforcement." (73) Taking the same set of rules, and enforcing them technologically rather than through the legal regime, can amount to an immense change in the practical import of those rules, not just a benign continuation of the status quo as the White Paper might make it seem. Preserving the status quo might in fact require relaxing the rules as enforcement is improved, so that the net effect on typical users is balanced out. This is not just a question of the interests of intellectual property owners vs. those of consumers. As mentioned earlier, many present uses of information technology arguably depend on the lack of strict and literal enforcement of copyright law in every instance (particularly if one accepts the White Paper's characterization of even ephemeral copying as infringement). It's not at all clear that intellectual property owners would benefit any more than consumers, certainly not in the long run, from a strict enforcement of such provisions, which could eviscerate precisely the information systems, such as the Internet, from which they hope to profit. Litman goes so far as to suggest that it might not be bad for all concerned to recognize the benefits to society of "illicit" copying, and make the Internet into a temporary copyright-free zone (74). Without going to that extreme, one can question whether shutting down all "illicit" copying immediately would necessarily be a good thing for anyone. 8. Conclusions. The main targets of this paper are the default assumptions that the objective of copyright is necessarily to emulate the agreements that parties would naturally make amongst themselves, that complete freedom of contract in intellectual property transactions is necessarily desirable and benign, and that measures that society can take to improve the ability of parties to enter into agreements and enforce restrictions on the use of intellectual property (whether based on copyright law, on contract, or unilaterally imposed) must be entirely beneficial. These are all superficially appealing concepts, but none of them bears up to close scrutiny as an unquestionable truth. The most direct relevance of these issues in the policy domain is to the question of what protections should be afforded to technological protection systems under the law, and conversely, what responsibilities should be imposed upon makers of such systems. There is no logical necessity of a quid pro quo here: even if Mark Stefik can build an effective technological protection system without any special legal status or protection, it might be in the public interest to impose certain regulations on the use of such a system. And conversely, it might be desirable to provide some legal protections for such systems if their efficient functioning is in the public interest, even if no corresponding restrictions are imposed upon how they may be used. But it is natural to think of tying the two together: to ask both what legal protections against circumvention of such systems are in the public interest, as well as what legal restrictions on how they may be used. I believe that some legal protections for technological protection systems are desirable. The White Paper and the Agenda for Action (75) make some good arguments about the ways in which technology can benefit information providers and consumers alike. I can see the advantages for myself of being able to purchase usage rights to individual articles, songs, or other information resources cheaply and easily. But this paper raises many concerns about how such systems might be deployed and operate in practice, and the extent to which government regulation of such systems may be in the public interest. In no particular order: * To reduce transaction costs for consumers by systematizing or regulating the bundles of rights transferred to information consumers. * To require that terms and conditions for use of information resources meet basic standards of fairness and commercial justification. * To ensure adequate disclosure of such terms and to ensure real assent on the part of the consumer, to the extent practical. * To limit the extent to which technological protection systems used for copyrighted information can also be used to restrict access to material in the public domain. * To ensure that technological protection systems do not unduly infringe the privacy of consumers. * To encourage or require compatibility between systems in order to increase competition. * To require companies to divulge necessary information for consumers to make an informed bargain, such as how the company might use personal information about the consumer gathered from his or her transactions. * To directly regulate the use of personal transaction information. * To encourage the development of systems that really do permit effective bargaining between provider and consumer, and not just one-sided "take it or leave it" offers. * To permit but regulate differential pricing and terms. * To limit the extent to which consumers can contract away certain rights, such as fair use. * To limit the extent to which technological protection systems can interfere with usage which would qualify as fair use, or with the extraction of noncopyrightable elements such as facts into the public domain. * To limit universal enforcement of copying and use restrictions by technological means, in cases where such strict enforcement might interfere with working systems or accepted behavior, at least until workable alternatives have been developed. Not all of these measures may be necessary, practical, or desirable. But they are all supportable by public policy arguments which are worthy of consideration. ---------------- NOTES (1) Jessica Litman, "Revising Copyright Law for the Information Age", 75 Oregon L. Rev. 45 n100 (1996). (2) Maureen A. O'Rourke, "Copyright Preemption After the ProCD Case: A Market-Based Approach", 12 Berkeley Tech. L. J. 53 (1997). (3) Mark A. Lemley, "Intellectual Property and Shrinkwrap Licenses", 68 S. Cal. L. Rev. 1239 (1995). (4) H.R. Rep. No. 102-873(I), 102nd Cong., 2d Sess., reprinted in 1992 U.S.C.C.A.N. 3578, 3579-80, 3583 n15. (5) Mark Stefik, "Letting Loose the Light: Igniting Commerce in Electronic Publication", in Mark Stefik, _Internet Dreams: Archetypes, Myths, and Metaphors_ (MIT Press, 1996), at 228-38. (6) "Intellectual Property and the National Information Infrastructure: The Report of the Working Group on Intellectual Property Rights" (1995). (7) Litman, at 45. (8) E. Allan Farnsworth, _Contracts_ (Little, Brown, 1982), at 21. (9) R. H. Coase, "The Problem of Social Cost", 3 J. L. & Econ. 1 (1960). (10) Lemley, at 1285-86. (11) Eric Schlachter, "The Intellectual Property Renaissance in Cyberspace: Why Copyright Law Could be Unimportant on the Internet", 12 Berkeley Tech. L. J. 49 (1997); also Litman, at 20. (12) Litman, at 38. (13) John Perry Barlow, "The Economy of Ideas: A Framework for Rethinking Patents and Copyrights in the Digital Age (Everything You Know About Intellectual Property is Wrong)", 2(3) WIRED 88 (March 1994). (14) Ibid, at 126. (15) White Paper, supra note 6, at 14. (16) Notes, "Offers Users Can't Refuse: Shrink-Wrap License Agreements as Enforceable Adhesion Contracts", 10 Cardozo L. Rev. 2105 (1989). (17) Lemley, at 1246-48. (18) O'Rourke, at 62. (19) Ibid, at 91. (20) Commission of the European Communities, "Green Paper on Copyright and Related Rights in the Information Society" (1995). (21) Restatement (Second) of Contracts Sect. 17 (1988). (22) Lemley, at 1248-49 n36. (23) Notes, supra note 16, at 2108 n14. (24) Ibid, at 2122 n83. (25) Ibid, at 2123. (26) Lemley, at 1287 n211. (27) A. Corbin, _Corbin on Contracts_ Sect. 73, at 310 (1963). (28) White Paper, supra note 6, at 192. (29) Notes, supra note 16, at 2108; Lemley, at 1241. (30) Lemley, at 1248-53, 1240. (31) Neil Weinstock Netanel, "Copyright and a Democratic Civil Society", 106 Yale L. J. 323 (1996). (32) Ibid, at 178. (33) Ibid, at 230. (34) Ibid, supra note 6, at 235. (35) Stefik, at 226. (36) Ibid, at 228. (37) Ibid, at 226. (38) White Paper, supra note 6, at 230. (39) Stefik, at 229. (40) White Paper, supra note 6, at 236. (41) Ibid, at 230. (42) Ibid, at 231. (43) Ibid, at 235. (44) Ibid, Appendix I, at 7. (45) Stefik, at 238-240. (46) White Paper, supra note 6, at 230. (47) Ibid, Appendix I, at 5-12. (48) Ibid, Appendix I, at 6. (49) Ibid, at 233 n569. (50) Ibid, Appendix I, at 7. (51) Ibid, at 191. (52) Ibid, at 235. (53) Stefik, at 220. (54) Ibid, at 229. (55) Esther Dyson, "Intellectual Value", 3.07 WIRED 182 (July 1995). (56) O'Rourke, at 83. (57) Notes, supra note 16, at 2104-05. (58) Julie E. Cohen, "A Right to Read Anonymously: A Closer Look at 'Copyright Management' in Cyberspace", 28 Conn. L. Rev. 999 (1996). (59) Schlachter, at 22-23. (60) Joel R. Reidenberg, "Information Flows on the Global Infobahn: Toward New U.S. Policies", in _The New Information Infrastructure: Strategies for U.S. Policy_ (1995), at 253. (61) Ibid, at 256. (62) Cohen, at 1000. (63) U.S. Constitution, Art. I, Sect. 8, cl. 8. (64) Robert A. Kreiss, "Accessibility and Commercialization in Copyright Theory", 43 UCLA L. Rev. 5 (1995). (65) Simson L. Garfinkel, Richard M. Stallman, and Mitchell Kapor, "Why Patents are Bad for Software", 8 Issues in Science and Technology 50 (Fall 1991). (66) Jessica Litman, "The Public Domain", 39 Emory L. J. 966 (1990). (67) Ibid, at 966-67. (68) Ibid, at 969. (69) U.S. Constitution, Art. I, Sect. 8, cl. 8. (70) Litman, supra note 1, at 40. (71) Ejan Mackaay, "The Economics of Emergent Property Rights on the Internet", in _The Future of Copyright in a Digital Environment_ (P. Bernt Hugenholtz ed., 1996), at 19. (72) Litman, supra note 1, at 48. (73) Joel R. Reidenberg, "Lex Informatica: The Formulation of Information Policy Rules through Technology", forthcoming in Texas L. Rev., at 23. (74) Litman, supra note 1, at 30. (75) The National Information Infrastructure: An Agenda for Action (1997).