The fact that the Court expressed this concern through an analogy to patent law was, at first sight, fairly surprising. Courts do not normally look at copyrights in quite the same way as they look at patents. For one thing, patent rights are stronger, though they are harder to obtain and last for a shorter period of time. For another, while courts often express concern about the dangers of a patent-driven monopoly over a particular technology, it is strange to see that concern in the context of copyright law. An unnecessary monopoly over a plow or a grain elevator may, as Jefferson pointed out, slow technological development. But a monopoly over Snow White or "Ode on a Grecian Urn"? We do not normally think of rights over expression (the realm of copyright) threatening to sweep within their ambit an entire new technological invention (the realm of patent). 58
But in the Sony case, the Supreme Court quite clearly saw that, in a world where technological developments made copying easier, the idea of contributory infringement in copyright could be used to suppress or control entire technologies that seemed, in the logic of 20/20 downside vision, to pose a threat to the copyright holder. Indeed, in some sense, the logic behind the Internet Threat—"cheaper copying requires greater control"—demands this result, though the Sony case antedates the World Wide Web by a considerable time. If it is cheap copying itself that poses the threat, then the content owners will increasingly move to gain control over the technologies of cheap copying, using copyright as their stalking horse. That is why the Sony Court went beyond the simple ruling on fair use to explain the consequences of the movie companies' claim. In a footnote (the place where judges often bury their most trenchant asides) the Court was almost snide: 59
It seems extraordinary to suggest that the Copyright Act confers upon all copyright owners collectively, much less the two respondents in this case, the exclusive right to distribute VTR's [Video Tape Recorders] simply because they may be used to infringe copyrights. That, however, is the logical implication of their claim. The request for an injunction below indicates that respondents seek, in effect, to declare VTR's contraband. Their suggestion in this Court that a continuing royalty pursuant to a judicially created compulsory license would be an acceptable remedy merely indicates that respondents, for their part, would be willing to license their claimed monopoly interest in VTR's to Sony in return for a royalty.23
60
The real heart of the Sony case is not that "time-shifting" of TV programs is fair use. It is an altogether deeper principle with implications for all of the holes in the intellectual property cheese. The Sony Court declared that because video recorders were capable of substantial noninfringing uses, the manufacturers of those devices were not guilty of contributory infringement. If the rights of copyright holders were absolute, if they had the authority to prohibit any activity that appeared to pose a threat to their current business model, then it is quite possible that video recorders would have been guilty of contributory infringement. It is because we have, and need, multiple exceptions and limitations on intellectual property that the Supreme Court was able to resist the claim that copyright itself forbids technologies of cheaper copying. To put it another way, without a robust set of exceptions and limitations on copyright, the idea that cheaper copying requires greater control will inexorably drive us toward the position that the technologies of cheaper reproduction must be put under the governance of copyright holders. 61
Thus we have a corollary to the Jefferson Warning—call it the Sony Axiom: cheaper copying makes the limitations on copyright more rather than less important. Without those limitations, copyright law will bloat and metastasize into a claim of monopoly, or at least control, over the very architectures of our communications technology. And that is exactly where the logic of the Internet Threat is taking us today. 62
FROM NAPSTER TO GROKSTER 63
Seventeen years after the Sony decision, another court had to deal with a suit by outraged copyright holders against the creators of a technology that allowed individuals to copy material cheaply and easily. The suit was called A&M Records v. Napster.24 Napster was a "peer-to-peer" file sharing system. The files were not kept on some huge central server. Instead, there was a central directory—think of a telephone directory—which contained a constantly updated list of the addresses of individual computers and the files they contained. Anyone who had the software could query the central registry to find a file's location and then establish a direct computer-to-computer connection—anywhere in the world—with the person who had the file they desired. This decentralized design meant the system was extremely "robust," very fast, and of nearly infinite capacity. Using this technology, tens of millions of people around the world were "sharing" music, an activity which record companies quite understandably viewed as simple theft. In fact, it would be hard to think of a situation that illustrated the Internet Threat better. The case ended up in front of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit, which hears cases in an area that includes California and thus has decided a lot of copyright cases over the years. 64
There was an irony here. When the Supreme Court decided the Sony case, it was on appeal from the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals. Sony, with its rule about reproductive technologies with substantial noninfringing uses, reversed the appeals court decision. The Supreme Court was, in effect, telling the Ninth Circuit that it was wrong, that its ruling would have required the "extraordinary" (legal shorthand for "stupid") conclusion that copyright law gave copyright holders a veto on new technology. In the process, the Supreme Court told the Ninth Circuit that it also did not understand the law of fair use, or the freedom that should be given to individuals to make "noncommercial" private copies. The identities of the judges had changed, but now, seventeen years later, the same Circuit Court had another high-profile case on exactly the same issues. In case any of the judges might have missed this irony, it took David Boies, the lawyer for Napster, about ninety seconds to remind them in his oral argument. "This court," he said, adding as if in afterthought, "in the decision that the Supreme Court ultimately reversed in Sony. . . ."25 To the laypeople in the audience it probably just seemed like another piece of legal droning. But to the lawyers in the room the message was quite clear. "The last time you got a case about a major new technology of consumer reproduction, you really screwed it up. Hope you can do better this time." The judges' mouths quirked—not entirely in pleasure. The point had been registered. 65
Think for a moment of the dilemma in which the court had been placed. On the one hand, you had tens of millions of people "sharing" music files and Napster was the service that allowed them to do it. If this was not contributory copyright infringement, what was? On the other hand, Napster seemed to fit very nicely under the rule announced in the Sony case. 66