Archives For intellectual property

Today, in ClearCorrect Operating, LLC v. International Trade Commission, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit held that electronic transmissions of digital data from abroad do not involve the importation of “articles” for purposes of Section 337 of the Tariff Act (“Section 337,” 19 U.S.C. § 1337), thereby stripping the U.S. International Trade Commission (“ITC”) of jurisdiction over infringement of intellectual property (IP) facilitated through such transmissions.  If allowed to stand, this unfortunate and ill-reasoned 2-1 panel decision will incentivize IP infringement schemes involving data imports, thereby harming U.S. IP holders (including holders of federally-protected patents, copyrights, trademarks, and designs) and rewarding unfair methods of import competition, contrary to the broad statutory purpose of Section 337.

Align Technology, Inc. held various patents covering the production of orthodontic tooth-straightening appliances, known as aligners.  ClearCorrect Operating, LLC (“ClearCorrect US”) used patented Align Technology without authorization to create digital models of patients’ teeth, and electronically transmitted those models to its Pakistani affiliate, Clear Correct Pakistan.  The Pakistani affiliate manipulated those models and then transmitted final digital models back to the United States, which ClearCorrect US utilized to make orthodontic aligners.  Align Technology complained to the ITC, which found that Clear Correct Pakistan engaged in infringing activity in Pakistan and that data transmission of its digital models to the U.S. violated Section 337(a)(1)(B)(ii), in that it involved the importation of articles covered by the claims of a valid and enforceable United States patent.  ClearCorrect appealed the ITC’s determination to the Federal Circuit.

Judge Sharon Prost’s majority opinion, while conceding that the term “articles” is not defined in the Tariff Act, nevertheless found that because “dictionaries point to the fact that ‘articles’ means ‘material things’”, the term “’articles’ does not cover electronically transmitted digital data.”  Thus, finding the term “articles” to be clear (“commonsense dictates that there is a fundamental difference between electronic transmissions and ‘material things[.]’”), Judge Prost rejected the ITC’s findings under step one (is there statutory ambiguity) of Chevron deference analysis.  Even assuming that “articles” is ambiguous, however, Judge Prost held that the ITC’s interpretation of that term was “unreasonable,” and thus failed step two (was the agency’s interpretation permissible) of Chevron analysis.  Specifically, Judge Prost deemed the ITC’s definition as inconsistent with dictionary definitions and with the Tariff Act’s legislative history.

In her short concurring opinion, Judge Kathleen O’Malley reasoned that the ITC’s definition of “articles” would give it jurisdiction over all incoming international Internet data transmissions, something Congress had not foreseen – “[b]ecause Congress did not intend to delegate such authority to the Commission, I would find the two step Chevron inquiry inapplicable in this case”.  Judge O’Malley added, however, that assuming Chevron applies, “I agree with the majority’s ruling that the Commission erred when it determined that it had jurisdiction over the disputed digital data.”  (Judge O’Malley’s apparent concern that upholding the ITC’s determination would have given that agency excessive regulatory control over the Internet appears to wrongly conflate the protection of property rights through a targeted and carefully-tailored provision (Section 337) with far-reaching command and control regulation – something that is clearly beyond the scope of the ITC’s authority.)

In her dissent, Judge Pauline Newman pointed out that Section 337 was written in broad terms that are adaptable to changes in technology.  She noted compellingly that contrary to the majority’s crabbed reading of “articles,” the term “was intended to be all-encompassing”, and “[t]he Supreme Court [itself] defined ‘articles of commerce’ to include pure information”.  Accordingly, limiting Section 337’s application to the non-digital technology that existed in the 1920s and 1930s (when the statutory core of the Tariff Act was enacted) makes no sense.  Summing it up, Judge Newman trenchantly concluded that “[o]n any standard, the Commission’s determination is reasonable, and warrants respect.  The panel majority’s contrary ruling is not reasonable, on any standard.”

U.S. patentees are not the only IP holders that face serious harm from the Federal Circuit’s regrettable holding.  For example, the Motion Picture Association of America stated that “[t]his ruling, if it stands, would appear to reduce the authority of the ITC to address the scourge of overseas web sites that engage in blatant piracy of movies, television programs, music, books, and other copyrighted works”.

An en banc Federal Circuit (or, better yet Supreme Court) reversal of this decision would prove helpful, but judicial processes move slowly.  Given the potential for serious harm to U.S. IP-dependent industries stemming from this holding, Congress may wish to seriously consider clarifying that the term “articles” in Section 337 is applicable to all forms of commerce, including digital transmissions.

Last July, the Eastern District of Virginia upheld the cancellation of various trademarks of the Washington Redskins on the grounds that the marks were disparaging to Native Americans. I am neither a fan of football, nor of offensive names for sports teams–what I am is a fan of free speech. Although the Redskins may be well advised to change their team name, interfering with both the team’s right to free speech as well as its property right in the registered mark is the wrong way–both legally and in principle–to achieve socially desirable ends.

Various theories have been advanced, but the really interesting part of the dispute–a topic upon which I published a paper this year–is the likelihood that the Lanham Act’s prohibition of immoral, scandalous, or disparaging marks runs afoul of the First Amendment. I was cheered to see this week that the First Amendment Lawyers Association filed an amicus brief largely along the lines of my paper. However, there were a couple of points that I still feel deserve more attention when thinking about the § 2(a) (the Lanham Act’s so-called “morality clauses”).

Trademarks Are Not License Plates

The district court tried to sidestep the First Amendment issue by declaring that the trademarks themselves are not at issue, but merely the right to register the trademarks. To reach its result, the court relied on the recent Walker case wherein the Supreme Court declared that Texas was at liberty to prevent Confederate flags from appearing on its license plates, since license plates could be considered the speech of the government.

However, there is an important distinction between license plates and trademarks. License plates are a good totally of government manufacture. One cannot drive a car on a public road without applying to the government for permission and affixing a government registration tag on the vehicle. The plate is not a blank slate upon which one may express one’s self, but is a state-issued information placard used for law enforcement purposes.

Trademarks, arising as they do from actual use, preexist federal recognition. The Lanham Act merely provides a mechanism for registering trademarks that happen to be used in interstate commerce. The federal government then chooses to recognize that trademark when contested or offered for registration.

This is a major distinction: the social field of trademarks already exists – the federal government has chosen to regulate and provide an enforcement mechanism for these property rights and speech acts when used in interstate commerce. Thus it is the market for trademarks that constitutes the forum, and not the physically recorded government register. Given that the government has interfered in a preexisting market in a way in which it protects some state-created trademark property rights, but not others, is it proper to regulate speech by virtue of its content? I think not.

Further, license plates are obviously government property to anyone who looks at them. Plates bear the very name of the state directly on their face. The system of trademark registration is a largely invisible process that only becomes relevant during legal proceedings. When the public looks at a given trademark I would argue that the state’s imprimatur is certainly one of the last things of which they would think.

Thus, a restriction on “immoral” or “disparaging” trademarks constitutes viewpoint discrimination. Eugene Volokh echoed this sentiment when he wrote on the refusal to register “Stop the Islamisation of America”:

Trademark registration … is a government benefit program open to a wide array of speakers with little quality judgment. Like other such programs … it should be seen as a form of “limited public forum,” in which the government may impose content-based limits but not viewpoint-based ones. An exclusion of marks that disparage groups while allowing marks that praise those groups strikes me as viewpoint discrimination.

The Lanham Act endows registrants with government-guaranteed legal rights in connection with the words and symbols by which they are recognized in society. Particularly in a globalized, interconnected society, the brand of an entity is a significant component of how it speaks to society. Discriminating against marks as “immoral” or “disparaging” can be nothing short of viewpoint discrimination.

Commercial Speech Is Protected Speech

As everyone is well aware, the First Amendment provides broad protection for a wide spectrum of speech. The definition of speech itself is likewise broad, including not only words, but also non-verbal gestures and symbols. Any governmental curtailing of such speech will be “presumptively invalid,” with the burden of rebutting that presumption on the government.

When speech is undertaken as part of commerce it does not magically lose any political, social or religious dimension it had when in a noncommercial context. Cartoons issued bearing the image of the Prophet as part of a commercial magazine are surely a political statement deserving of protection. The situation is the same if an organization adopts a logo that is derisive to a particular political or religious ideology – that publication is making a protected, expressive statement through its branding.

At first glance, one might think that defenders of § 2(a) would attempt to qualify scandalous and immoral trademarks as “obscene” and thereby render them subject to censorship. But, in McGinley the Federal Circuit explicitly refused to apply the obscenity standards from the Supreme Court to §2(a) on the grounds that the Lanham Act does not itself use the word “obscenity.” Instead, the Federal Circuit, following the TTAB, was of the opinion that “[w]hat is denied are the benefits provided by the Lanham Act which enhance the value of a mark” and that the appellant still had legal recourse under state common law. Therefore, so the court in McGinley reasoned, since the right to use the mark is not actually abridged, no expression is abridged. And this is the primary basis upon which the district court in Pro-Football built its argument that no First Amendment concerns were implicated in canceling the Redskins trademark.

This of course willfully ignores once again the notion that in intervening in the field of trademarks, and in favoring certain speakers over others, courts effectively allows the Lanham Act to amplify preferred speech and burden disfavored speech. This is true whether or not we classify the trademark right as a bundle of procedural rights (which in turn make speech competitively possible) or as pure speech directly.

That said, it’s much more in keeping with the tradition of the First Amendment to understand trademarks as a protected category of commercial speech. The Supreme Court has noted that otherwise commercial information may at times be more urgent than even political dialog, and that information relating to a financial incentive was not necessarily commercial for First Amendment purposes. “[S]ignificant societal interests are served by such speech.” This is so because even entirely commercial speech “may often carry information of import to significant issues of the day.”

Even were commercial speech not fully protected–as I believe it to be–the Supreme Court has also recognized that commercial speech may be so intertwined with noncommercial speech so as to make them inseparable for First Amendment purposes. In particular, commercial messages do more than merely provide information about the characteristics of goods and services:

[S]olicitation is characteristically intertwined with informative and perhaps persuasive speech seeking support for particular causes or for particular views on economic, political, or social issues, and for the reality that without solicitation the flow of such information and advocacy would likely cease.

The analogy to trademarks is rather clear in this context. Although trademarks may refer to a particular product or service, that product or service is not of necessity a purely commercial object. Further, even if the product or service is a commercial object, the trademark itself can be, or can become, a symbolic referent and not a mere sales pitch. Consider, for instance, Mickey Mouse. The iconic mouse ears certainly represent a vast commercial empire generally, and specifically operate as a functional trademark for Mickey Mouse cartoons and merchandise. However, is there not much more of cultural significance to the mark than mere commercial value? The mouse ears represent something culturally – about childhood, about America, and about art – that is much more than merely a piece of pricing or quality information.

The Unconstitutional Conditions Doctrine Prevents Trading Rights for Privileges

The district court (and Federal Circuit, for that matter) have missed a very important dimension in summarily dismissing First Amendment concerns of trademark holders. These courts dismiss owners of “immoral” or “disparaging” trademarks on the belief that no actual harm is done – the mark holders still own the mark, and, as far as the court is concerned, no speech has been suppressed. However, trademark registration, in addition to providing a forum in which to speak, also provides real procedural benefits for the mark holder. For instance, businesses and individuals enjoy a nationwide recognition of their presence and can vindicate their interests in federal courts. Without the federal registration that is presumptively supplied to marks that are not “immoral” or “scandalous,” an individual can find himself attempting to protect his interests in a mark in the courts of every state in which he does business.

However, under the unconstitutional conditions doctrine even though the benefits of trademark registration are not constitutionally guaranteed rights, those benefits cannot be offered in exchange for a trademark owner’s loss of actually guaranteed rights. Thus, the tight link between trademark registration and First Amendment protections that the courts just keep ignoring.

Its also worth noting that this doctrine did not emerge in constitutional jurisprudence until after the period in which the Lanham Act was drafted. Instead, the Lanham Act era was characterized by the rights-privileges distinction–made famous by then Chief Justice of the Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court Oliver Wendell Holmes. In McAuliffe, a police officer sued for reinstatement after he was dismissed for his participation in a political organization. In dismissing the case, Chief Justice Holmes held that “[t]he petitioner may have a constitutional right to talk politics, but he has no constitutional right to be a policeman.” This quote from Holmes captures precisely the sense in which the Federal Circuit dismisses the First Amendment concerns of mark holders. 

In contrast to this rather antiquated view, the Supreme Court has recently reaffirmed the proposition that “the government may not deny a benefit to a person because he exercises a constitutional right.” Although this principle contains exceptions, it has been applied to a wide variety of situations including refusal to renew teaching contracts over First Amendment-protected speech acts, and infringement of the right to travel by refusing to adequately extend healthcare benefits to sick persons who had not been residents of a county for at least a year.

Basically, the best defense one can offer for § 2(a) is rooted in an outmoded view of the First Amendment that is, to put it mildly, unconstitutional. We don’t shut down speakers who offend us (at least for the time being), and we should stop attacking trademarks that we find to be immoral.

Thanks to the Truth on the Market bloggers for having me. I’m a long-time fan of the blog, and excited to be contributing.

The Third Circuit will soon review the appeal of generic drug manufacturer, Mylan Pharmaceuticals, in the latest case involving “product hopping” in the pharmaceutical industry — Mylan Pharmaceuticals v. Warner Chilcott.

Product hopping occurs when brand pharmaceutical companies shift their marketing efforts from an older version of a drug to a new, substitute drug in order to stave off competition from cheaper generics. This business strategy is the predictable business response to the incentives created by the arduous FDA approval process, patent law, and state automatic substitution laws. It costs brand companies an average of $2.6 billion to bring a new drug to market, but only 20 percent of marketed brand drugs ever earn enough to recoup these costs. Moreover, once their patent exclusivity period is over, brand companies face the likely loss of 80-90 percent of their sales to generic versions of the drug under state substitution laws that allow or require pharmacists to automatically substitute a generic-equivalent drug when a patient presents a prescription for a brand drug. Because generics are automatically substituted for brand prescriptions, generic companies typically spend very little on advertising, instead choosing to free ride on the marketing efforts of brand companies. Rather than hand over a large chunk of their sales to generic competitors, brand companies often decide to shift their marketing efforts from an existing drug to a new drug with no generic substitutes.

Generic company Mylan is appealing U.S. District Judge Paul S. Diamond’s April decision to grant defendant and brand company Warner Chilcott’s summary judgment motion. Mylan and other generic manufacturers contend that Defendants engaged in a strategy to impede generic competition for branded Doryx (an acne medication) by executing several product redesigns and ceasing promotion of prior formulations. Although the plaintiffs generally changed their products to keep up with the brand-drug redesigns, they contend that these redesigns were intended to circumvent automatic substitution laws, at least for the periods of time before the generic companies could introduce a substitute to new brand drug formulations. The plaintiffs argue that product redesigns that prevent generic manufacturers from benefitting from automatic substitution laws violate Section 2 of the Sherman Act.

Product redesign is not per se anticompetitive. Retiring an older branded version of a drug does not block generics from competing; they are still able to launch and market their own products. Product redesign only makes competition tougher because generics can no longer free ride on automatic substitution laws; instead they must either engage in their own marketing efforts or redesign their product to match the brand drug’s changes. Moreover, product redesign does not affect a primary source of generics’ customers—beneficiaries that are channeled to cheaper generic drugs by drug plans and pharmacy benefit managers.

The Supreme Court has repeatedly concluded that “the antitrust laws…were enacted for the protection of competition not competitors” and that even monopolists have no duty to help a competitor. The district court in Mylan generally agreed with this reasoning, concluding that the brand company Defendants did not exclude Mylan and other generics from competition: “Throughout this period, doctors remained free to prescribe generic Doryx; pharmacists remained free to substitute generics when medically appropriate; and patients remained free to ask their doctors and pharmacists for generic versions of the drug.” Instead, the court argued that Mylan was a “victim of its own business strategy”—a strategy that relied on free-riding off brand companies’ marketing efforts rather than spending any of their own money on marketing. The court reasoned that automatic substitution laws provide a regulatory “bonus” and denying Mylan the opportunity to take advantage of that bonus is not anticompetitive.

Product redesign should only give rise to anticompetitive claims if combined with some other wrongful conduct, or if the new product is clearly a “sham” innovation. Indeed, Senior Judge Douglas Ginsburg and then-FTC Commissioner Joshua D. Wright recently came out against imposing competition law sanctions on product redesigns that are not sham innovations. If lawmakers are concerned that product redesigns will reduce generic usage and the cost savings they create, they could follow the lead of several states that have broadened automatic substitution laws to allow the substitution of generics that are therapeutically-equivalent but not identical in other ways, such as dosage form or drug strength.

Mylan is now asking the Third Circuit to reexamine the case. If the Third Circuit reverses the lower courts decision, it would imply that brand drug companies have a duty to continue selling superseded drugs in order to allow generic competitors to take advantage of automatic substitution laws. If the Third Circuit upholds the district court’s ruling on summary judgment, it will likely create a circuit split between the Second and Third Circuits. In July 2015, the Second Circuit court upheld an injunction in NY v. Actavis that required a brand company to continue manufacturing and selling an obsolete drug until after generic competitors had an opportunity to launch their generic versions and capture a significant portion of the market through automatic substitution laws. I’ve previously written about the duty created in this case.

Regardless of whether the Third Circuit’s decision causes a split, the Supreme Court should take up the issue of product redesign in pharmaceuticals to provide guidance to brand manufacturers that currently operate in a world of uncertainty and under the constant threat of litigation for decisions they make when introducing new products.

One baleful aspect of U.S. antitrust enforcers’ current (and misguided) focus on the unilateral exercise of patent rights is an attack on the ability of standard essential patent (SEP) holders to obtain a return that incentivizes them to participate in collective standard setting.  (This philosophy is manifested, for example, in a relatively recent U.S. Justice Department “business review letter” that lends support to the devaluation of SEPs.)  Enforcers accept the view that FRAND royalty rates should compensate licensees only for the value of the incremental difference between the first- and second-best technologies in a hypothetical ex ante competition among patent holders to have their patented technologies included in a proposed standard – a methodology that yields relatively low royalty rates (tending toward zero when the first- and second-best technologies are very close substitutes).  Tied to this perspective is enforcers’ concern with higher royalty rates as reflecting unearned “hold-up value” due to the “lock in” effects of a standard (the premium implementers are willing to pay patent holders whose technologies are needed to practice an established standard).  As a result, strategies by which SEP holders unilaterally seek to maximize returns to their SEP-germane intellectual property, such as threatening lawsuits seeking injunctions for patent infringement, are viewed askance.

The ex ante “incremental value” approach, far from being economically optimal, is inherently flawed.  It is at odds with elementary economic logic, which indicates that “ratcheting down” returns to SEPs in line with an “ex ante competition among technologies” model will lower incentives to invest in patented technologies offered up for consideration by SSOs in a standard- setting exercise.  That disincentive effect will in turn diminish the quality of patents that end up as SEPs – thereby reducing the magnitude of the welfare benefits stemming from standards.  In fact, the notion that FRAND principles should be applied in a manner that guarantees minimal returns to patent holders is inherently at odds with the justification for establishing a patent system in the first place.  That is because the patent system is designed to generously reward large-scale dynamic gains that stem from innovation, while the niggardly “incremental value” yardstick is a narrow static welfare measure that ignores incentive effects (much as the “marginal cost pricing” ideal of neoclassical price theory is inconsistent with Austrian and other dynamic perspectives on marketplace interactions).

Recently, lawyer-economist Greg Sidak outlined an approach to SEP FRAND-based pricing that is far more in line with economic reality – one based on golf tournament prizes.  In a paper to be delivered at the November 5 2015 “Patents in Telecoms” Conference at George Washington University, Sidak explains that collective standard-setting through a standard-setting organization (SSO) is analogous to establishing and running a professional golf tournament.  Like golf tournament organizers, SSOs may be expected to award a substantial prize to the winner that reflects a significant spread between the winner and the runner-up, in order to maximize the benefits flowing from their enterprise.  Relevant excerpts from Sidak’s draft paper (with footnotes omitted and hyperlink added) follow:

“If an inventor could receive only a pittance for his investment in developing his technology and in contributing it to a standard, he would cease contributing proprietary technologies to collective standards and instead pursue more profitable outside options.  That reasoning is even more compelling if the inventor is a publicly traded firm, answerable to its shareholders.  Therefore, modeling standard setting as a static Bertrand pricing game [reflected in the incremental value approach] without any differentiation among the competing technologies and without any outside option for the inventors would predict that every inventor loses—that is, no inventor could possibly recoup his investment in innovation and therefore would quickly exit the market.  Standard setting would be a sucker’s game for inventors.  . . .

[J]ust as the organizer of a golf tournament seeks to ensure that all contestants exert maximum effort to win the tournament, so as to ensure a competitive and entertaining tournament, the SSO must give each participant the incentive to offer the SSO its best technologies. . . .

The rivalrous process—the tournament—by which an SSO identifies and then adopts a particular technology for the standard incidentally produces something else of profound value, something which the economists who invoke static Bertrand competition to model a FRAND royalty manage to obscure.  The high level of inventor participation that a standard-setting tournament is able to elicit by virtue of its payoff structure reveals valuable information about both the inventors and the technologies that might make subsequent rounds of innovation far more socially productive (for example, by identifying dead ends that future inventors need not invest time and money in exploring).  In contrast, the alternative portrayal of standard setting as static Bertrand competition among technologies leads . . . to the dismal prediction that standard setting is essentially a lottery.  The alternative technologies are assumed to be unlimited in number and undifferentiated in quality.  All are equally mediocre. If the standard were instead a motion picture and the competing inventions were instead actors, there would be no movie stars—only extras from central casting, all equally suitable to play the leading role.  In short, a model of competition for adoption of a technology into the standard that, in practical effect, randomly selects its winner and therefore does not aggregate and reveal information is a model that ignores what Nobel laureate Friedrich Hayek long ago argued is the quintessential virtue of a market mechanism.

The economic literature finds that a tournament is efficient when the cost of measuring the absolute output of each participant sufficiently exceeds the cost of measuring the relative output of each participant compared with the other participants.  That condition obtains in the context of SEPs and SSOs.  Measuring the actual output or value of each competing technology for a standard is notoriously difficult.  However, it is much easier to ascertain the relative value of each technology.  SEP holders and implementers routinely make these ordinal comparisons in FRAND royalty disputes. Given the similarities between tournaments and collective standard setting, and the fact that it is far easier to measure the relative value of an SEP than its absolute value, it is productive to analyze the standard-setting process as if it were a tournament. . . .

[I]n addition to guaranteeing participation, the prize structure must provide a sufficient incentive to encourage participants to exert a high level of effort.  In a standard setting context, a “high level of effort” means investing significant capital and other resources to develop new technologies that have commercial value.  The economic literature . . . suggests that the level of effort that a participant exerts depends on the spread, or difference, between the prize for winning the tournament and the next-best prize.  Furthermore, . . . ‘as the spread increases, the incentive to devote additional resources to improving one’s probability of winning increases.’  That result implies that the first-place prize must exceed the second-place prize and that, the greater the disparity between those two prizes, the greater the incentive that participants have to invest in developing new and innovative technologies.”

Sidak’s latest insights are in line with the former bipartisan U.S. antitrust consensus (expressed in the 1995 U.S. Justice Department – Federal Trade Commission IP-Antitrust Guidelines) that antitrust enforcers should focus on targeting schemes that reduce competition among patented technologies, and not challenge unilateral efforts by patentees to maximize returns to their legally-protected property right.  U.S. antitrust enforcers (and their foreign counterparts) would be well-advised to readopt that consensus and abandon efforts to limit returns to SEPs – an approach that is inimical to innovation and to welfare-enhancing dynamic competition in technology markets.

Applying antitrust law to combat “hold-up” attempts (involving demands for “anticompetitively excessive” royalties) or injunctive actions brought by standard essential patent (SEP) owners is inherently problematic, as explained by multiple scholars (see here and here, for example).  Disputes regarding compensation to SEP holders are better handled in patent infringement and breach of contract lawsuits, and adding antitrust to the mix imposes unnecessary costs and may undermine involvement in standard setting and harm innovation.  What’s more, as FTC Commissioner Maureen Ohlhausen and former FTC Commissioner Joshua Wright have pointed out (citing research), empirical evidence suggests there is no systematic problem with hold-up.  Indeed, to the contrary, a recent empirical study by Professors from Stanford, Berkeley, and the University of the Andes, accepted for publication in the Journal of Competition Law and Economics, finds that SEP-reliant industries have the fastest quality-adjusted price declines in the U.S. economy – a result totally at odds with theories of SEP-related competitive harm.  Thus, application of a cost-benefit approach that seeks to maximize the welfare benefits of antitrust enforcement strongly militates against continuing to pursue “SEP abuse” cases.  Enforcers should instead focus on more traditional investigations that seek to ferret out conduct that is far more likely to be welfare-inimical, if they are truly concerned about maximizing consumer welfare.

But are the leaders at the U.S. Department of Justice Antitrust Division (DOJ) and the Federal Trade paying any attention?  The most recent public reports are not encouraging.

In a very recent filing with the U.S. International Trade Commission (ITC), FTC Chairwoman Edith Ramirez stated that “the danger that bargaining conducted in the shadow of an [ITC] exclusion order will lead to patent hold-up is real.”  (Comparable to injunctions, ITC exclusion orders preclude the importation of items that infringe U.S. patents.  They are the only effective remedy the ITC can give for patent infringement, since the ITC cannot assess damages or royalties.)  She thus argued that, before issuing an exclusion order, the ITC should require an SEP holder to show that the infringer is unwilling or unable to enter into a patent license on “fair, reasonable, and non-discriminatory” (FRAND) terms – a new and major burden on the vindication of patent rights.  In justifying this burden, Chairwoman Ramirez pointed to Motorola’s allegedly excessive SEP royalty demands from Microsoft – $6-$8 per gaming console, as opposed to a federal district court finding that pennies per console was the appropriate amount.  She also cited LSI Semiconductor’s demand for royalties that exceeded the selling price of Realtek’s standard-compliant product, whereas a federal district court found the appropriate royalty to be only .19% of the product’s selling price.  But these two examples do not support Chairwoman Ramirez’s point – quite the contrary.  The fact that high initial royalty requests subsequently are slashed by patent courts shows that the patent litigation system is working, not that antitrust enforcement is needed, or that a special burden of proof must be placed on SEP holders.  Moreover, differences in bargaining positions are to be expected as part of the normal back-and-forth of bargaining.  Indeed, if anything, the extremely modest judicial royalty assessments in these cases raise the concern that SEP holders are being undercompensated, not overcompensated.

A recent speech by DOJ Assistant Attorney General for Antitrust (AAG) William J. Baer, delivered at the International Bar Association’s Competition Conference, suffers from the same sort of misunderstanding as Chairman Ramirez’s ITC filing.  Stating that “[h]old up concerns are real”, AAG Baer cited the two examples described by Chairwoman Ramirez.  He also mentioned the fact that Innovatio requested a royalty rate of over $16 per smart tablet for its SEP portfolio, but was awarded a rate of less than 10 cents per unit by the court.  While admitting that the implementers “proved victorious in court” in those cases, he asserted that “not every implementer has the wherewithal to litigate”, that “[s]ometimes implementers accede to licensors’ demands, fearing exclusion and costly litigation”, that “consumers can be harmed and innovation incentives are distorted”, and that therefore “[a] future of exciting new products built atop existing technology may be . . . deferred”.  These theoretical concerns are belied by the lack of empirical support for hold-up, and are contradicted by the recent finding, previously noted, that SEP-reliant industries have the fastest quality-adjusted price declines in the U.S. economy.  (In addition, the implementers of patented technology tend to be large corporations; AAG Baer’s assertion that some may not have “the wherewithal to litigate” is a bare proposition unsupported by empirical evidence or more nuanced analysis.)  In short, DOJ, like FTC, is advancing an argument that undermines, rather than bolsters, the case for applying antitrust to SEP holders’ efforts to defend their patent rights.

Ideally the FTC and DOJ should reevaluate their recent obsession with allegedly abusive unilateral SEP behavior and refocus their attention on truly serious competitive problems.  (Chairwoman Ramirez and AAG Baer are both outstanding and highly experienced lawyers who are well-versed in policy analysis; one would hope that they would be open to reconsidering current FTC and DOJ policy toward SEPs, in light of hard evidence.)  Doing so would benefit consumer welfare and innovation – which are, after all, the goals that those important agencies are committed to promote.

The Ninth Circuit made waves recently with its decision in Lenz v. Universal Music Corp., in which it decided that a plaintiff in a copyright infringement case must first take potential fair use considerations into account before filing a takedown notice under the DMCA. Lenz, represented by the EFF, claimed that Universal had not formed a good faith belief that an infringement had occurred as required by § 512(c)(3)(A)(v). Consequently, Lenz sought damages under § 512(f), alleging that Universal made material misrepresentations in issuing a takedown notice without first considering a fair use defense.

In reaching its holding, the Ninth Circuit decided that fair use should not be considered an affirmative defense–which is to say that it is not properly considered after an allegation, but must be considered when determining whether a prima facie claim exists. It starts from the text of the Copyright Act itself. According to 17 U.S.C. § 107

Notwithstanding the provisions of sections 106 and 106A, the fair use of a copyrighted work … is not an infringement of copyright.

In support of its contention, the Ninth Circuit goes on to cite a case in the Eleventh Circuit as well as legislative material suggesting that Congress intended that fair use no longer be considered as an affirmative defense. Thus, in the Ninth Circuit’s view, such fair use at best qualifies as a sort of quasi-defense, and most likely constitutes an element of an infringement claim. After all, if fair use is literally non-infringing, then establishing infringement requires ruling out fair use, as well.

Or so says the Ninth Circuit. But it takes little more than a Google search — let alone the legal research one should expect of federal judges and their clerks — to realize that the court is woefully, and utterly, incorrect.

Is Fair Use an Affirmative Defense ?

The Supreme Court has been perfectly clear that fair use is in fact an affirmative defense. In Campbell v. Acuff-Rose, the Supreme Court had occasion to consider the nature of fair use under § 107 in the context of determining whether 2 Live Crew’s parody of Roy Orbison’s “Pretty Woman” was a permissible use. In considering the fourth fair use factor, “the effect of the use upon the potential market for or value of the copyrighted work,” the Court held that “[s]ince fair use is an affirmative defense, its proponent would have difficulty carrying the burden of demonstrating fair use without favorable evidence about relevant markets.”

Further, in reaching this opinion the Court relied on its earlier precedent in Harper & Row, where, in discussing the “purpose of the use” prong of § 107, the Court said that “[t]he drafters [of § 107] resisted pressures from special interest groups to create presumptive categories of fair use, but structured the provision as an affirmative defense requiring a case-by-case analysis.”  Not surprisingly, other courts are inclined to follow the the Supreme Court. Thus the Eleventh Circuit, the Southern District of New York, and the Central District of California (here and here), to name but a few, all explicitly refer to fair use as an affirmative defense. Oh, and the Ninth Circuit did too, at least until Lenz.

The Ninth Circuit Dissembles

As part of its appeal, Universal relied on the settled notion that fair use is an affirmative defense in building its case. Perhaps because this understanding of fair use is so well established, Universal failed to cite extensively why this was so. And so (apparently unable to perform its own legal research), the Ninth Circuit dismissed § 107 as an affirmative defense out of hand, claiming that

Universal’s sole textual argument is that fair use is not “authorized by the law” because it is an affirmative defense that excuses otherwise infringing conduct … Supreme Court precedent squarely supports the conclusion that fair use does not fall into the latter camp: “[A]nyone who . . . makes a fair use of the work is not an infringer of the copyright with respect to such use.” Sony Corp. of Am. v. Universal City Studios, Inc., 464 U.S. 417, 433 (1984).”

It bears noting that the Court in Sony Corp. did not discuss whether or not fair use is an affirmative defense, whereas Acuff Rose (decided 10 years after Sony Corp.) and Harper & Row decisions do.

To shore up its argument, the Ninth Circuit then goes on to cite the Eleventh Circuit for the notion that the 1976 Act fundamentally changed the nature of fair use, moving it away from its affirmative defense roots. Quoting Bateman v. Mnemonics, Inc., the court claims that

Although the traditional approach is to view “fair use” as an affirmative defense, . . . it is better viewed as a right granted by the Copyright Act of 1976. Originally, as a judicial doctrine without any statutory basis, fair use was an infringement that was excused—this is presumably why it was treated as a defense. As a statutory doctrine, however, fair use is not an infringement. Thus, since the passage of the 1976 Act, fair use should no longer be considered an infringement to be excused; instead, it is logical to view fair use as a right. Regardless of how fair use is viewed, it is clear that the burden of proving fair use is always on the putative infringer.

But wait — didn’t I list the Eleventh Circuit as one of the (many) courts that have held fair use to be an affirmative defense? Why yes I did. It turns out that, as Devlin Hartline pointed out last week, the Ninth Circuit actually ripped the Eleventh Circuit text completely out of context. The full Bateman quote (from a footnote, it should be noted) is as follows:

Fair use traditionally has been treated as an affirmative defense to a charge of copyright infringement …. In viewing fair use as an excused infringement, the court must, in addressing this mixed question of law and fact, determine whether the use made of the original components of a copyrighted work is “fair” under 17 U.S.C. § 107 … Although the traditional approach is to view “fair use” as an affirmative defense, this writer, speaking only for himself, is of the opinion that it is better viewed as a right granted by the Copyright Act of 1976. Originally, as a judicial doctrine without any statutory basis, fair use was an infringement that was excused—this is presumably why it was treated as a defense. As a statutory doctrine, however, fair use is not an infringement. Thus, since the passage of the 1976 Act, fair use should no longer be considered an infringement to be excused; instead, it is logical to view fair use as a right. Regardless of how fair use is viewed, it is clear that the burden of proving fair use is always on the putative infringer.” (internal citations omitted, but emphasis added)

Better yet, in a subsequent opinion the Eleventh Circuit further clarified the position that the view of fair use as an affirmative defense is binding Supreme Court precedent, notwithstanding any judge’s personal preferences to the contrary.

But that’s not the worst of it. Not only did the court shamelessly misquote the Eleventh Circuit in stretching to find a justification for its prefered position, the court actually ignored its own precedent to the contrary. In Dr. Seuss Enterprises, L.P. v. Penguin Books USA, Inc., the Ninth Circuit held that

Since fair use is an affirmative defense, [the Defendant-Appellants] must bring forward favorable evidence about relevant markets. Given their failure to submit evidence on this point … we conclude that “it is impossible to deal with [fair use] except by recognizing that a silent record on an important factor bearing on fair use disentitle[s] the proponent of the defense[.]

Further, even if the Lenz court is correct that § 107 “unambiguously contemplates fair use as a use authorized by the law” — despite Supreme Court precedent — the authority the Ninth Circuit attempts to rely upon would still require defendants to raise a fair use defense after a prima facie claim was made, as “the burden of proving fair use is always on the putative infringer.”  

It Also Violates a Common Sense Reading of the DMCA

As with all other affirmative defenses, a plaintiff must first make out a prima facie case before the defense can be raised. So how do we make sense of the language in § 107 that determines fair use to not be infringement? In essence, it appears to be a case of inartful drafting.  Particularly in light of the stated aims of the DMCA — a law that was enacted after the Supreme Court established that fair use was an affirmative defense — the nature of fair use as an affirmative defense that can only be properly raised by an accused infringer is as close to black letter law as it gets.

The DMCA was enacted to strike a balance between the interests of rightsholders in protecting their property, and the interests of society in having an efficient mechanism for distributing content. Currently, rightsholders send out tens of millions of takedown notices every year to deal with the flood of piracy and other infringing uses. If rightsholders were required to consider fair use in advance of each of these, the system would be utterly unworkable — for instance, in Google’s search engine alone, over 54 million removal requests were made in just the month of August 2015 owing to potential copyright violations. While the evisceration of the DMCA is, of course, exactly what the plaintiffs (or more accurately, EFF, which represented the plaintiffs) in Lenz wanted, it’s not remotely what the hard-wrought compromise of the statute contemplates.

And the reason it would be unworkable is not just because of the volume of the complaints, but because fair use is such an amorphous concept that ultimately requires adjudication.

Not only are there four factors to consider in a fair use analysis, but there are no bright line rules to guide the application of the factors. The open ended nature of the defense essentially leaves it up to a defendant to explain just why his situation should not constitute infringement. Until a judge or a jury says otherwise, how is one to know whether a particular course of conduct qualifies for a fair use defense?

The Lenz court even acknowledges as much when it says

If, however, a copyright holder forms a subjective good faith belief the allegedly infringing material does not constitute fair use, we are in no position to dispute the copyright holder’s belief even if we would have reached the opposite conclusion. (emphasis added)

Thus, it is the slightest of fig leaves that is necessary to satisfy the Lenz court’s new requirement that fair use be considered before issuing a takedown notice.

What’s more, this statement from the court also demonstrates the near worthlessness of reading a prima facie fair use requirement into the takedown requirements. Short of a litigant explicitly disclaiming any efforts to consider fair use, the standard could be met with a bare assertion. It does, of course, remain an open question whether the computer algorithms the rightsholders employ in scanning for infringing content are actually capable of making fair use determinations — but perhaps throwing a monkey wrench — any monkey wrench — into the rightsholders’ automated notice-and-takedown systems was all the court was really after. I think we can at least be sure that that was EFF’s aim, anyway, as they apparently think that § 512 tends to be a tool of censorship in the hands of rightsholders.

The structure of the takedown and put-back provisions of the DMCA also cut against the Lenz court’s view. The put-back requirements of Section 512(g) suggest that affirmative defenses and other justifications for accused infringement would be brought up after a takedown notice was submitted. What would be the purpose of put-back response, if not to offer the accused infringers justifications and defenses to an allegation of infringement? Along with excuses such as having a license, or a work’s copyright being expired, an alleged infringer can bring up the fair use grounds under which he believed he was entitled to use the work in question.

In short, to require a rightsholder to analyze fair use in advance of a takedown request effectively requires her to read the mind of an infringer and figure out what excuse that party plans to raise as part of her defense. This surely can’t have been what Congress intended with the takedown provisions of the DMCA — enacted as they were years after the Supreme Court had created the widely recognized rule that fair use is an affirmative defense.

Well, widely recognized, that is, except in the Ninth Circuit. This month, anyway.

Update: I received some feedback on this piece which pointed out an assumption I was making with respect to the Ninth Circuit’s opinion, and which deserves a clarifying note. Essentially, the Lenz court splits the concept of affirmative defenses into two categories: (1) an affirmative defense that is merely a label owing to the procedural posture of a case and (2) an affirmative defense, as it is traditionally understood and that always puts the burden of production on a defendant.  By characterizing affirmative defenses in this way, the Lenz court gets to have its cake and eat it too:  when an actual proceeding is filed, a defendant will procedurally have the burden of production on the issue, but since fair use is at most a quasi-affirmative defense, the court felt it was fair to shift that same burden onto rightsholders when issuing a takedown letter.  So technically the court says that fair use is an affirmative defense (as a labeling matter), but it does not practically treat is as such for the purposes of takedown notices.

Recently, the en banc Federal Circuit decided in Suprema, Inc. v. ITC that the International Trade Commission could properly prevent the importation of articles that infringe under an indirect liability theory. The core of the dispute in Suprema was whether § 337 of the Tariff Act’s prohibition against “importing articles that . . . infringe a valid and enforceable United States patent” could be used to prevent the importation of articles that at the moment of importation were not (yet) directly infringing. In essence, is the ITC limited to acting only when there is a direct infringement, or can it also prohibit articles involved in an indirect infringement scheme — in this case under an inducement theory?

TOTM’s own Alden Abbott posted his view of the decision, and there are a couple of points we’d like to respond to, both embodied in this quote:

[The ITC’s Suprema decision] would likely be viewed unfavorably by the Supreme Court, which recently has shown reluctance about routinely invoking Chevron deference … Furthermore, the en banc majority’s willingness to find inducement liability at a time when direct patent infringement has not yet occurred (the point of importation) is very hard to square with the teachings of [Limelight v.] Akamai.

In truth, we are of two minds (four minds?) regarding this view. We’re deeply sympathetic with arguments that the Supreme Court has become — and should become — increasingly skeptical of blind Chevron deference. Recently, we filed a brief on the 2015 Open Internet Order that, in large part, argued that the FCC does not deserve Chevron deference under King v. Burwell, UARG v. EPA and Michigan v. EPA (among other important cases) along a very similar line of reasoning. However, much as we’d like to generally scale back Chevron deference, in this case we happen to think that the Federal Circuit got it right.

Put simply, “infringe” as used in § 337 plainly includes indirect infringement. Section 271 of the Patent Act makes it clear that indirect infringers are guilty of “infringement.” The legislative history of the section, as well as Supreme Court case law, makes it very clear that § 271 was a codification of both direct and indirect liability.

In taxonomic terms, § 271 codifies “infringement” as a top-level category, with “direct infringement” and “indirect infringement” as two distinct subcategories of infringement. The law further subdivides “indirect infringement” into sub-subcategories, “inducement” and “contributory infringement.” But all of these are “infringement.”

For instance, § 271(b) says that “[w]hoever actively induces infringement of a patent shall be liable as an infringer” (emphasis added). Thus, in terms of § 271, to induce infringement is to commit infringement within the meaning of the patent laws. And in § 337, assuming it follows § 271 (which seems appropriate given Congress’ stated purpose to “make it a more effective remedy for the protection of United States intellectual property rights” (emphasis added)), it must follow that when one imports “articles… that infringe” she can be liable for either (or both) § 271(a) direct infringement or § 271(b) inducement.

Frankly, we think this should end the analysis: There is no Chevron question here because the Tariff Act isn’t ambiguous.

But although it seems clear on the face of § 337 that “infringe” must include indirect infringement, at the very least § 337 is ambiguous and cannot clearly mean only “direct infringement.” Moreover, the history of patent law as well as the structure of the ITC’s powers both cut in favor of the ITC enforcing the Tariff Act against indirect infringers. The ITC’s interpretation of any ambiguity in the term “articles… that infringe” is surely reasonable.

The Ambiguity and History of § 337 Allows for Inducement Liability

Assuming for argument’s sake that § 337’s lack of specificity leaves room for debate as to what “infringe” means, there is nothing that militates definitively against indirect liability being included in § 337. The majority handles any ambiguity of this sort well:

[T]he shorthand phrase “articles that infringe” does not unambiguously exclude inducement of post-importation infringement… By using the word “infringe,” § 337 refers to 35 U.S.C. § 271, the statutory provision defining patent infringement. The word “infringe” does not narrow § 337’s scope to any particular subsections of § 271. As reflected in § 271 and the case law from before and after 1952, “infringement” is a term that encompasses both direct and indirect infringement, including infringement by importation that induces direct infringement of a method claim… Section 337 refers not just to infringement, but to “articles that infringe.” That phrase does not narrow the provision to exclude inducement of post-importation infringement. Rather, the phrase introduces textual uncertainty.

Further, the court notes that it has consistently held that inducement is a valid theory of liability on which to base § 337 cases.

And lest you think that this interpretation would give some new, expansive powers to the ITC (perhaps meriting something like a Brown & Williamson exception to Chevron deference), the ITC is still bound by all the defenses and limitations on indirect liability under § 271. Saying it has authority to police indirect infringement doesn’t give it carte blanche, nor any more power than US district courts currently have in adjudicating indirect infringement. In this case, the court went nowhere near the limits of Chevron in giving deference to the ITC’s decision that “articles… that infringe” emcompasses the well-established (and statutorily defined) law of indirect infringement.

Inducement Liability Isn’t Precluded by Limelight

Nor does the Supreme Court’s Limelight v. Akamai decision present any problem. Limelight is often quoted for the proposition that there can be no inducement liability without direct infringement. And it does stand for that, as do many other cases; that point is not really in any doubt. But what Alden and others (including the dissenters in Suprema) have cited it for is the proposition that inducement liability cannot attach unless all of the elements of inducement have already been practiced at the time of importation. Limelight does not support that contention, however.

Inducement liability contemplates direct infringement, but the direct infringement need not have been practiced by the same entity liable for inducement, nor at the same time as inducement (see, e.g., Standard Oil. v. Nippon). Instead, the direct infringement may come at a later time — and there is no dispute in Suprema regarding whether there was direct infringement (there was, as Suprema notes: “the Commission found that record evidence demonstrated that Mentalix had already directly infringed claim 19 within the United States prior to the initiation of the investigation.”).

Limelight, on the other hand, is about what constitutes the direct infringement element in an inducement case. The sole issue in Limelight was whether this “direct infringement element” required that all of the steps of a method patent be carried out by a single entity or entities acting in concert. In Limelight’s network there was a division of labor, so to speak, between the company and its customers, such that each carried out some of the steps of the method patent at issue. In effect, plaintiffs argued that Limelight should be liable for inducement because it practised some of the steps of the patented method, with the requisite intent that others would carry out the rest of the steps necessary for direct infringement. But neither Limelight nor its customers separately carried out all of the steps necessary for direct infringement.

The Court held (actually, it simply reiterated established law) that the method patent could never be violated unless a single party (or parties acting in concert) carried out all of the steps of the method necessary for direct infringement. Thus it also held that Limelight could not be liable for inducement because, on the facts of that case, none of its customers could ever be liable for the necessary, underlying direct infringement. Again — what was really at issue in Limelight were the requirements to establish the direct infringement necessary to prove inducement.

On remand, the Federal Circuit reinforced the point that Limelight was really about direct infringement and, by extension, who must be involved in the direct infringement element of an inducement claim. According to the court:

We conclude that the facts Akamai presented at trial constitute substantial evidence from which a jury could find that Limelight directed or controlled its customers’ performance of each remaining method step. As such, substantial evidence supports the jury’s verdict that all steps of the claimed methods were performed by or attributable to Limelight. Therefore, Limelight is liable for direct infringement.

The holding of Limelight is simply inapposite to the facts of Suprema. The crux of Suprema is whether the appropriate mens rea existed to support a claim of inducement — not whether the requisite direct infringement occurred or not.

The Structure of § 337 Supports The ITC’s Ability to Block Inducement

Further, as the majority in Suprema notes, the very idea of inducement liability necessarily contemplates that there will be a temporal separation between the event that gives rise to indirect liability and the future direct infringement (required to prove inducement). As the Suprema court briefly noted “Section 337(a)(1)(B)’s ‘sale . . . after importation’ language confirms that the Commission is permitted to focus on post-importation activity to identify the completion of infringement.”

In particular, each of the enforcement powers in § 337(a) contains a clause that, in addition to a prohibition against, e.g., infringing articles at the time of importation, also prohibits “the sale within the United States after importation by the owner, importer, or consignee, of articles[.]” Thus, Congress explicitly contemplated that the ITC would have the power to act upon articles at various points in time, not limiting it to a power effective only at the moment of importation.

Although the particular power to reach into the domestic market has to do with preventing the importer or its agent from making sales, this doesn’t undermine the larger point here: the ITC’s power to prevent infringing articles extends over a range of time. Given that “articles that … infringe” is at the very least ambiguous, and, as per the Federal Circuit (and our own position), this ambiguity allows for indirect infringement, it isn’t a stretch to infer that that Congress intended the ITC to have authority under § 337 to ban the import of articles that induce infringement that occurs only after the time of importation..

To interpret § 337 otherwise would be to render it absurd and to create a giant loophole that would enable infringers to easily circumvent the ITC’s enforcement powers.

A Dissent from the Dissent

The dissent also takes a curious approach to § 271 by mixing inducement and contributory infringement, and generally making a confusing mess of the two. For instance, Judge Dyk says

At the time of importation, the scanners neither directly infringe nor induce infringement… Instead, these staple articles may or may not ultimately be used to infringe… depending upon whether and how they are combined with domestically developed software after importation into the United States (emphasis added).

Whether or not the goods were “staples articles” (and thus potentially capable of substantial noninfringing uses) has nothing to do with whether or not there was inducement. Section 271 makes a very clear delineation between inducement in § 271(b) and contributory infringement in § 271(c). While a staple article of commerce capable of substantial noninfringing uses will not serve as the basis for a contributory infringement claim, it is irrelevant whether or not goods are such “staples” for purposes of establishing inducement.

The boundaries of inducement liability, by contrast, are focused on the intent of the actors: If there is an intent to induce, whether or not there is a substantial noninfringing use, there can be a violation of § 271. Contributory infringement and inducement receive treatment in separate paragraphs of § 271 and are separate doctrines comprising separate elements. This separation is so evident on the face of the law as well as in its history that the Supreme Court read the doctrine into copyright in Grokster — where, despite a potentially large number of non-infringing uses, the intent to induce infringement was sufficient to find liability.

Parting Thoughts on Chevron

We have some final thoughts on the Chevron question, because this is rightly a sore point in administrative law. In this case we think that the analysis should have ended at step one. Although the Federal Circuit began with an assumption of ambiguity, it was being generous to the appellants. Did Congress speak with clear intent? We think so. Section 271 very clearly includes direct infringement as well as indirect infringement within its definition of what constitutes infringement of a patent. When § 337 references “articles … that infringe” it seems fairly obvious that Congress intended the ITC to be able to enforce the prohibitions in § 271 in the context of imported goods.

But even if we advance to step two of the Chevron analysis, the ITC’s construction of § 337 is plainly permissible — and far from expansive. By asserting its authority here the ITC is simply policing the importation of infringing goods (which it clearly has the power to do), and doing so in the case of goods that indirectly infringe (a concept that has been part of US law for a very long time). If “infringe” as used in the Tariff Act is ambiguous, the ITC’s interpretation of it to include both indirect as well as direct infringement seems self-evidently reasonable.

Under the dissent’s (and Alden’s) interpretation of § 337, all that would be required to evade the ITC would be to import only the basic components of an article such that at the moment of importation there was no infringement. Once reassembled within the United States, the ITC’s power to prevent the sale of infringing goods would be nullified. Section 337 would thus be read to simply write out the entire “indirect infringement” subdivision of § 271 — an inference that seems like a much bigger stretch than that “infringement” under § 337 means all infringement under § 271. Congress was more than capable of referring only to “direct infringement” in § 337 if that’s what it intended.

Much as we would like to see Chevron limited, not every agency case is the place to fight this battle. If we are to have agencies, and we are to have a Chevron doctrine, there will be instances of valid deference to agency interpretations — regardless of how broadly or narrowly Chevron is interpreted. The ITC wasn’t making a power grab in Suprema, nor was its reading of the statute unexpected, inconsistent with its past practice, or expansive.

In short, Suprema doesn’t break any new statutory interpretation ground, nor present a novel question of “deep economic or political significance” akin to the question at issue in King v. Burwell. Like it or not, there will be no roots of an anti-Chevron-deference revolution growing out of Suprema.

On August 10, in Suprema, Inc. v. ITC, the en banc Federal Circuit granted Chevron deference to a U.S. International Trade Commission (“ITC”) statutory interpretation in holding that goods that do not directly infringe a U.S. patent at the time they are imported nevertheless may be excluded from entry by the ITC if they are used, after importation, to directly infringe by the importer at the inducement of the goods’ seller.  Although this decision is good news for believers in strong U.S. patent enforcement against infringing imports, it is problematic as a matter of jurisprudence.  It may face stormy waters if it eventually is subject to U.S. Supreme Court review.  The gist of the case is as follows.

In May 2010, Cross Match Technologies, Inc. (“Cross Match”) filed a complaint with the ITC, alleging infringement of four patents it owned that involved certain fingerprint scanning devices.  The ITC found the scanners were manufactured abroad by a Korean company, Suprema, Inc. (“Suprema”).  An American company, Mentalix, Inc., bought the scanners and imported them into the United States.  Mentalix subsequently combined the scanners with Mentalix software, and used and sold the scanners in the U.S.  The ITC determined that Mentalix directly infringed a Cross Match patent claim by integrating its software with the Suprema scanners.  The ITC also found that Suprema was liable for inducing patent infringement by Mentalix, in that it “willfully blinded” itself to and “actively encouraged” Mentalix’s infringing U.S. activities.  (Furthermore, Suprema “aided and abetted” Mentalix’s infringement by assisting Mentalix in getting Mentalix software to work with the scanners.)  Consequently, the ITC imposed an exclusion order covering the importation of scanners used in the infringement, applying Section 337 of the Tariff Act of 1930 (“Section 337”), which declares unlawful “importing articles that . . . infringe a valid and enforceable United States patent.”  On appeal, a three-judge Federal Circuit panel disagreed and found no Section 337 violation, reasoning that there are no “articles that infringe” at the time of importation when direct infringement does not occur until after importation.  The Federal Circuit granted a rehearing en banc and a six-judge majority vacated the panel decision, with four judges dissenting.

The en banc majority opinion, authored by Judge Jimmie V. Reyna, applied Chevron deference to the ITC’s determination.  (The administrative law principle known as “Chevron deference,” enunciated in 1984 by the U.S. Supreme Court in Chevron U.S.A. Inc. v. NRDC, gives judicial deference to an agency’s construction of federal statutory language if (1) the statutory language is ambiguous and (2) the agency’s interpretation is based on a “permissible” construction of the language.  An agency’s interpretation need not be the “best” or “most likely” statutory construction, it need only be “not unreasonable.”)  The opinion found first that because Section 337 refers to “articles that infringe,” not just to infringement (the subject of the Patent Act), textual uncertainty is introduced.  In other words, applying Chevron Step One, “Congress has not directly answered whether goods qualify as ‘articles that infringe’ when the [ITC] has found that an importer used such goods, after importation, to directly infringe at the inducement of the goods’ seller.”  Applying Chevron Step Two, Judge Reyna deemed reasonable the ITC’s determination that induced infringement was covered by Section 337:  “Induced infringement is one kind of infringement, and when it is accomplished by supplying an article, the article supplied can be an ‘article that infringes’ if the other requirements of inducement are met.”  Furthermore, “[t]he legislative history consistently evidence[d] Congressional intent to vest the ITC with broad enforcement authority to remedy unfair trade acts.”  Accordingly, Judge Reyna held that deference to the ITC’s interpretation of Section 337 was warranted.

A four-judge dissent, authored by Judge Kathleen M. O’Malley, found no ambiguity in the term “articles that infringe,” and stressed that “there is no actual harm to a patentee until an infringing use, and that harm only occurs after importation for method claims such as the ones at issue in this appeal. This is especially true for staple goods like Suprema’s scanners, where a broad assertion of the Commission’s power could prevent noninfringing goods from entering the country on the basis of what a customer may do with that item once it enters U.S. territory. Such considerations are the purview of the district courts, and fall outside the limited statutory jurisdiction of the [ITC].”  Notably, Judge O’Malley also relied heavily on the Supreme Court’s 2014 decision in Limelight Networks v. Akamai Technologies, when the Court held that inducement liability may arise if and only if there is direct patent infringement.  As Judge O’Malley explained, “[b]y permitting indirect infringement liability at the point of importation when there has been no direct infringement, the [Federal Circuit en banc] majority crafts patent policy where it believes there is a loophole ripe for abuse.”  But “[a]s the Supreme Court recently reminded us” in Limelight, “ ‘[t]he courts should not create liability for inducement of non-infringing conduct where Congress has elected not to extend that concept.’ ”

The dissent has the better case.  The fact is, the scanners did not infringe when they were imported, only when they were bundled subsequently with another company’s software in connection with their being marketed in the United States.  Finding ambiguity in the term “articles that infringe” involves an exercise in statutory construction that appears strained to the point of unreasonableness.  It would likely be viewed unfavorably by the Supreme Court, which recently has shown reluctance about routinely invoking Chevron deference (see, for example, the Court’s very recent summary rejection of such deference in Michigan v. EPA).  Furthermore, the en banc majority’s willingness to find inducement liability at a time when direct patent infringement has not yet occurred (the point of importation) is very hard to square with the teachings of Akamai.  Finally, Federal Circuit decisions have fared poorly before the Supreme Court in recent years, and Judge O’Malley’s thoughtful application of Akamais teachings makes the en banc majority’s opinion a particularly ripe target for Supreme Court reversal, should certiorari be granted. 

As Judge O’Malley pointed out, if U.S. patentees are being seriously harmed by induced infringement after the point of importation, a simple statutory tweak to Section 337 should deal with the problem.  Supporters of strong patent protection would be well advised to have such an amendment “in their back pocket” and ready to go should the Supreme Court elect to review the Suprema decision.

Patent reform legislation is under serious consideration by the Senate and House of Representatives, a mere four years after the America Invents Act of 2011 (AIA) brought about a major overhaul of United States patent law. A primary goal of current legislative efforts is the reining in of “patent trolls” (also called “patent assertion entities”), that is, firms that purchase others’ patents for the sole purpose of threatening third parties with costly lawsuits if they fail to pay high patent license fees. A related concern is that many patents acquired by trolls are “poor quality,” and that parties approached by trolls too often are induced to “pay up” without regard to the underlying merits of the matter.
In a Heritage Foundation paper released today (see, John Malcolm and I briefly review developments since the AIA’s enactment, comment on the patent troll issue, and provide our perspective on certain categories of patent law changes now being contemplated.
Addressing recent developments, we note that the Supreme Court of the United States has issued a number of major decisions over the past decade (five in its 2013–2014 term alone) that are aimed at tightening the qualifications for obtaining patents and enhancing incentives to bring legitimate challenges to questionable patents. Although there is no single judicial silver bullet, there is good reason to believe that, taken as a whole, these decisions will significantly enhance efforts to improve patent quality and to weed out bad patents and frivolous lawsuits.
With respect to patent trolls, we explain that there can be good patent assertion entities that seek licensing agreements and file claims to enforce legitimate patents and bad patent assertion entities that purchase broad and vague patents and make absurd demands to extort license payments or settlements. The proper way to address patent trolls, therefore, is by using the same means and methods that would likely work against ambulance chasers or other bad actors who exist in other areas of the law, such as medical malpractice, securities fraud, and product liability—individuals who gin up or grossly exaggerate alleged injuries and then make unreasonable demands to extort settlements up to and including filing frivolous lawsuits.
We emphasize that Congress should exercise caution in addressing patent litigation reforms. Despite its imperfections, the U.S. patent law system unquestionably has been associated with spectacular innovation in a wide variety of fields, ranging from smartphones to pharmaceuticals. Thus, in deciding what statutory fixes are appropriate to rein in patent litigation abuses, Congress should seek to minimize the risk that changes in the law will have the unintended consequence of weakening patent rights, thereby undermining American innovation.
We then turn to assess proposals dealing with heightened patent pleading requirements; greater patent transparency; case management and discovery limits; stays of suits against customers; the award of attorneys’ fees and costs to the prevailing party; joinder of third parties; reining in abusive demand letters; post-grant administrative patent review reforms; and minor miscellaneous reforms. We conclude that many of these reforms appear to have significant merit and could prove useful in reducing the costs of the patent litigation system. Nevertheless, there is a serious concern that certain reform proposals would make it more difficult for holders of legitimate patents to vindicate their rights. In addition, as is the case with all new legislation, there is the risk that novel legislative language might have unintended consequences, including the effects of future court decisions construing the newly-adopted language.
Accordingly, before deciding to take action, we believe that Congress should weigh the particular merits of individual reform proposals carefully and meticulously, taking into account their possible harmful effects as well as their intended benefits. Precipitous, unreflective action on legislation is unwarranted, and caution should be the byword, especially since the effects of 2011 legislative changes and recent Supreme Court decisions have not yet been fully absorbed. Taking time is key to avoiding the serious and costly errors that too often are the fruit of omnibus legislative efforts.
In sum, careful, sober, detailed assessment is warranted to ensure that further large-scale changes in U.S. patent law advance the goal of improving the U.S. patent system as a whole, with due attention to the rights of inventors and the socially beneficial innovations that they generate.

Today, in Kimble v. Marvel Entertainment, a case involving the technology underlying the Spider-Man Web-Blaster, the Supreme Court invoked stare decisis to uphold an old precedent based on bad economics. In so doing, the Court spun a tangled web of formalism that trapped economic common sense within it, forgetting that, as Spider-Man was warned in 1962, “with great power there must also come – great responsibility.”

In 1990, Stephen Kimble obtained a patent on a toy that allows children (and young-at-heart adults) to role-play as “a spider person” by shooting webs—really, pressurized foam string—“from the palm of [the] hand.” Marvel Entertainment made and sold a “Web-Blaster” toy based on Kimble’s invention, without remunerating him. Kimble sued Marvel for patent infringement in 1997, and the parties settled, with Marvel agreeing to buy Kimble’s patent for a lump sum (roughly a half-million dollars) plus a 3% royalty on future sales, with no end date set for the payment of royalties.

Marvel subsequently sought a declaratory judgment in federal district court confirming that it could stop paying Kimble royalties after the patent’s expiration date. The district court granted relief, the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals affirmed, and the Supreme Court affirmed the Ninth Circuit. In an opinion by Justice Kagan, joined by Justices Scalia, Kennedy, Ginsburg, Breyer, and Sotomayor, the Court held that a patentee cannot continue to receive royalties for sales made after his patent expires. Invoking stare decisis, the Court reaffirmed Brulotte v. Thys (1964), which held that a patent licensing agreement that provided for the payment of royalties accruing after the patent’s expiration was illegal per se, because it extended the patent monopoly beyond its statutory time period. The Kimble Court stressed that stare decisis is “the preferred course,” and noted that though the Brulotte rule may prevent some parties from entering into deals they desire, parties can often find ways to achieve similar outcomes.

Justice Alito, joined by Chief Justice Roberts and Justice Thomas, dissented, arguing that Brulotte is a “baseless and damaging precedent” that interferes with the ability of parties to negotiate licensing agreements that reflect the true value of a patent. More specifically:

“There are . . . good reasons why parties sometimes prefer post-expiration royalties over upfront fees, and why such arrangements have pro-competitive effects. Patent holders and licensees are often unsure whether a patented idea will yield significant economic value, and it often takes years to monetize an innovation. In those circumstances, deferred royalty agreements are economically efficient. They encourage innovators, like universities, hospitals, and other institutions, to invest in research that might not yield marketable products until decades down the line. . . . And they allow producers to hedge their bets and develop more products by spreading licensing fees over longer periods. . . . By prohibiting these arrangements, Brulotte erects an obstacle to efficient patent use. In patent law and other areas, we have abandoned per se rules with similarly disruptive effects. . . . [T]he need to avoid Brulotte is an economic inefficiency in itself. . . . And the suggested alternatives do not provide the same benefits as post-expiration royalty agreements. . . . The sort of agreements that Brulotte prohibits would allow licensees to spread their costs, while also allowing patent holders to capitalize on slow-developing inventions.”

Furthermore, the Supreme Court was willing to overturn a nearly century-old antitrust precedent that absolutely barred resale price maintenance in the Leegin case, despite the fact that the precedent was extremely well know (much better known than the Brulotte rule) and had prompted a vast array of contractual workarounds. Given the seemingly greater weight of the Leegin precedent, why was stare decisis set aside in Leegin, but not in Kimble? The Kimble majority’s argument that stare decisis should weigh more heavily in patent than in antitrust because, unlike the antitrust laws, “the patent laws do not turn over exceptional law-shaping authority to the courts”, is unconvincing. As the dissent explains:

“[T]his distinction is unwarranted. We have been more willing to reexamine antitrust precedents because they have attributes of common-law decisions. I see no reason why the same approach should not apply where the precedent at issue, while purporting to apply a statute, is actually based on policy concerns. Indeed, we should be even more willing to reconsider such a precedent because the role implicitly assigned to the federal courts under the Sherman [Antitrust] Act has no parallel in Patent Act cases.”

Stare decisis undoubtedly promotes predictability and the rule of law and, relatedly, institutional stability and efficiency – considerations that go to the costs of administering the legal system and of formulating private conduct in light of prior judicial precedents. The cost-based efficiency considerations underlying applying stare decisis to any particular rule, must, however, be weighed against the net economic benefits associated with abandonment of that rule. The dissent in Kimble did this, but the majority opinion regrettably did not.

In sum, let us hope that in the future the Court keeps in mind its prior advice, cited in Justice Alito’s dissent, that “stare decisis is not an ‘inexorable command’,” and that “[r]evisiting precedent is particularly appropriate where . . . a departure would not upset expectations, the precedent consists of a judge-made rule . . . , and experience has pointed up the precedent’s shortcomings.”