The right of publicity is a legal concept in the United States that deals primarily with protecting celebrities from the commercial exploitation of their name or likeness. As a doctrine it touches both on intellectual property and the First Amendment, and often overlaps with trademark law, since if someone is famous enough their name often becomes a sort of brand. The President certainly falls into this category, particularly with so many eyes all over the world focused on the White House – so is it legal for his likeness to be used in an advertisement without his permission?
The ad in question was nearly as big as you can get – a billboard in Times Square. It featured a photograph of President Obama wearing a Weatherproof Garment Company coat, standing in front of the wall of China, and featured the tagline "A Leader in Style." Though the company legally licensed the photograph from the Associated Press, they did not receive any permission from the White House, and in fact, several news publications, including The New York Times, refused to run the ad.
Upon receiving word of the President's displeasure from White House lawyers, Weatherproof has agreed to take down the billboard, having no desire to "alienate the White House." However, it is unclear as to whether, legally, they were definitely in the wrong. Part of the question may be whether the advertisement implies an endorsement. The company maintains that it does not; they were merely showing that the President was wearing their coat, which is undisputed, not that he was endorsing it in any way.
Interestingly, this is not the only such case in recent days. Michelle Obama found herself in an ad as well – on a poster for PETA proclaiming her as "fur-free and fabulous!" The White House has asked for those ads to be taken down as well.
Some think that publicity rights are a threat to free speech, and others that they are necessary to keep those in the public eye from being exploited. Is there a point when you give up some of these rights as a necessary evil of celebrity – and if so, does the same apply to the President? In any case, Weatherproof may have gotten what they desired in terms of publicity – though they may have lost a customer in the Obamas.
Source:Legalmatchmaker.com
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
A (Cookie) Monster of a Lawsuit for Kim Kardashian
A sentence or two – or specifically, 140 characters – doesn't seem like a lot of space to commit libel. On Kim Kardashian's Twitter feed, it may well have been, though it was really just one word that was the problem: "unhealthy."
The problems began when Kardashian sent a cease-and-desist letter to the manufacturers of Dr. Siegal's Cookie Diet, accusing them of falsely attributing her endorsement to their product. Though the company says that they never made such a claim, they did find statements related to their product on Kardashian's Twitter feed, including: "Dr. Siegal's cookie diet is falsely promoting that I'm on this diet. NOT TRUE! I would never do this unhealthy diet! I do QuickTrim!"
The company has since filed a defamation lawsuit, saying that Kardashian's derogatory statement about the brand could cost them "tens of millions of dollars." Complicating matters is that Kardashian is actually a paid endorser of QuickTrim, another diet product. Therefore, the company behind the Cookie Diet claims, Kardashian had incentive to make damaging public comments.
The most problematic part of Kardashian's tweet could be the word "unhealthy," the question becoming whether it was a statement of opinion or a statement of fact. This could be the line between free speech and liability.
This case brings up an interesting example of the power of social media, particularly when it comes to celebrities. After all, saying something to your friends is one thing; saying something to nearly 3 million of them is another. Bloggers know by now that words can be dangerous; the litigation magnet Perez Hilton is proof enough of this. Perhaps now Twitter users are learning the same lesson – 140 characters at a time.
Source: Legalmatchmaker.com
The problems began when Kardashian sent a cease-and-desist letter to the manufacturers of Dr. Siegal's Cookie Diet, accusing them of falsely attributing her endorsement to their product. Though the company says that they never made such a claim, they did find statements related to their product on Kardashian's Twitter feed, including: "Dr. Siegal's cookie diet is falsely promoting that I'm on this diet. NOT TRUE! I would never do this unhealthy diet! I do QuickTrim!"
The company has since filed a defamation lawsuit, saying that Kardashian's derogatory statement about the brand could cost them "tens of millions of dollars." Complicating matters is that Kardashian is actually a paid endorser of QuickTrim, another diet product. Therefore, the company behind the Cookie Diet claims, Kardashian had incentive to make damaging public comments.
The most problematic part of Kardashian's tweet could be the word "unhealthy," the question becoming whether it was a statement of opinion or a statement of fact. This could be the line between free speech and liability.
This case brings up an interesting example of the power of social media, particularly when it comes to celebrities. After all, saying something to your friends is one thing; saying something to nearly 3 million of them is another. Bloggers know by now that words can be dangerous; the litigation magnet Perez Hilton is proof enough of this. Perhaps now Twitter users are learning the same lesson – 140 characters at a time.
Source: Legalmatchmaker.com
Well-Connected Jurors - Should the Internet Be Off-Limits in the Jury Box?
A recent article in Time Magazine examines the question of whether electronic devices such as phones with Internet access could be dangerous to the expectation of a fair trial. After all, in sharp contrast to just five years ago, a juror's phone may as well be a computer in their pocket when it comes to the sort of information they can access on it.
With the stigma that jury duty has of being dull, jurors may be reluctant to give up their ability to check email or Twitter during breaks in the proceedings. Perhaps they're itching to update Facebook with "is wishing this trial would end soon so I can go home!" But the impetus for a new rule in Michigan that bans the devices from deliberations is the research at their fingertips; should a juror be able to supplement the information provided by witnesses by what they can get from the Wikipedia app on their iPhone? And social media could also be a problem, as illustrated by one example given in the article of a juror sending a Facebook friend request to a witness.
This isn't the first time that cultural changes have had a profound impact on the way that lawyers think about their juror audiences; during the past decade, the "CSI effect" has become more prevalent. The obsession with television shows featuring forensic science has brought with it an increased interest in the subject in courtrooms – and also an expectation for more evidence. Likewise, our just-Google-it generation expects information at our fingertips; we're used to seeing source documents and are skilled at finding them for ourselves.
But is the banning of phones really necessary or should courtroom expectations be shifting with the technology and culture? Some believe that the real danger could be that of misinformation – and worse, the possibility of misinformation planted online with the intention of influencing jury pools. Perhaps it is more difficult for justice to be blind when she has a search engine in her pocket.
Source: Legalmatchmaker.com
With the stigma that jury duty has of being dull, jurors may be reluctant to give up their ability to check email or Twitter during breaks in the proceedings. Perhaps they're itching to update Facebook with "is wishing this trial would end soon so I can go home!" But the impetus for a new rule in Michigan that bans the devices from deliberations is the research at their fingertips; should a juror be able to supplement the information provided by witnesses by what they can get from the Wikipedia app on their iPhone? And social media could also be a problem, as illustrated by one example given in the article of a juror sending a Facebook friend request to a witness.
This isn't the first time that cultural changes have had a profound impact on the way that lawyers think about their juror audiences; during the past decade, the "CSI effect" has become more prevalent. The obsession with television shows featuring forensic science has brought with it an increased interest in the subject in courtrooms – and also an expectation for more evidence. Likewise, our just-Google-it generation expects information at our fingertips; we're used to seeing source documents and are skilled at finding them for ourselves.
But is the banning of phones really necessary or should courtroom expectations be shifting with the technology and culture? Some believe that the real danger could be that of misinformation – and worse, the possibility of misinformation planted online with the intention of influencing jury pools. Perhaps it is more difficult for justice to be blind when she has a search engine in her pocket.
Source: Legalmatchmaker.com
Lawsuit Seeks 2 Million in Compensation for Customers
Recently, a lawsuit known as Doe v. Netflix was filed in a California federal court. The suit alleges the company violated fair-trade and federal privacy laws by disclosing information that was not sufficiently anonymized, as part of a contest.
The contest was designed to help the popular online DVD rental service improve their recommendation algorithm. They gave away to over 50,000 contestants massive datasets that included movie ratings along with number identifiers for the subscribers.
The privacy problem arose when only weeks after the contest's launch, two researchers managed to link the "anonymous" Netflix reviews with those posted on another (non-anonymous) website – thus revealing information such as political leanings and sexual orientation.
The complaint points out that movie rentals can be highly personal, the sort of information that one might not want published to the world – for example, the viewing of "Brokeback Mountain" or even "The Passion of the Christ." It is for this very reason that the Video Privacy Protection Act exists. The impetus for the law was the release of Robert Bork's video rental history during his Supreme Court nomination.
But did Netflix really "knowingly disclose" the personally identifying information of its customers, as required for a violation of the VPPA? The definition given by the Act of "personally identifying information" is "information which identifies a person as having requested or obtained specific video materials."
This has been filed as a class action suit, seeking no less than $2,500 for each member; Netflix currently has over 2 million customers. This could prove to be an extremely costly lawsuit for what many consider to be a simple mistake. Legally, did Netflix make a good faith effort to preserve their customers' privacy? And from a public relations standpoint, can their customers forgive them if that effort wasn't good enough?
Source: Legalmatchmaker.com
The contest was designed to help the popular online DVD rental service improve their recommendation algorithm. They gave away to over 50,000 contestants massive datasets that included movie ratings along with number identifiers for the subscribers.
The privacy problem arose when only weeks after the contest's launch, two researchers managed to link the "anonymous" Netflix reviews with those posted on another (non-anonymous) website – thus revealing information such as political leanings and sexual orientation.
The complaint points out that movie rentals can be highly personal, the sort of information that one might not want published to the world – for example, the viewing of "Brokeback Mountain" or even "The Passion of the Christ." It is for this very reason that the Video Privacy Protection Act exists. The impetus for the law was the release of Robert Bork's video rental history during his Supreme Court nomination.
But did Netflix really "knowingly disclose" the personally identifying information of its customers, as required for a violation of the VPPA? The definition given by the Act of "personally identifying information" is "information which identifies a person as having requested or obtained specific video materials."
This has been filed as a class action suit, seeking no less than $2,500 for each member; Netflix currently has over 2 million customers. This could prove to be an extremely costly lawsuit for what many consider to be a simple mistake. Legally, did Netflix make a good faith effort to preserve their customers' privacy? And from a public relations standpoint, can their customers forgive them if that effort wasn't good enough?
Source: Legalmatchmaker.com
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