Archives For patent

The State of the Patent System: A Discussion with Chief Judge Rader

A teleforum on Thursday, April 11, at 2pm. Hosted by George Mason Law School’s Center for the Protection of Intellectual Property Teleforum and the Federalist Society‘s Intellectual Property Practice Group.

Today, people read daily complaints about the “broken” patent system, and thus it’s unsurprising that there are numerous and wide-ranging attempts to “reform” the patent system. Legislative reform efforts include the proposed SHIELD Act, which would impose a losing-plaintiff-pays litigation system solely on patent-licensing companies and further revisions to the America Invents Act of 2011. Regulatory agencies also have skin in the patent reform game: the FTC recently reached settlements with Bosch and Google that restricted their rights to enforce their patents in standardized technology, and the FTC is currently considering whether to condemn the patent-licensing business model as “anti-competitive.” The courts are heavily involved as well: in addition to the many patent cases it has decided in recent years, the U.S. Supreme Court has four major patent cases on its docket this year, which suggests that it also agrees that the patent system is in serious need of legal reform. Yet, patents today secure innovation once imagined only as science fiction – tablet computers, smart phones, genetically modified seeds, genetic testing for cancer, personalized medical treatments for debilitating diseases, and many others – and these technological marvels are now a commonplace feature of our lives. This Teleforum with the Honorable Randall Rader, Chief Judge of the Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit – a digital “fireside chat” – will explore these and other issues in assessing whether the patent system is broken or whether it is fundamentally sound.

Featuring:

Hon. Randall R. Rader, Chief Judge, U.S. Court of Appeals, Federal Circuit
Moderator: Prof. Adam Mossoff, Co-Director, Academic Programs and Senior Scholar, Center for the Protection of Intellectual Property, George Mason Law School

Agenda:

Call begins at 2:00 p.m. Eastern Time, Thursday, April 11, 2013.

More information here.

Earlier this month, Representatives Peter DeFazio and Jason Chaffetz picked up the gauntlet from President Obama’s comments on February 14 at a Google-sponsored Internet Q&A on Google+ that “our efforts at patent reform only went about halfway to where we need to go” and that he would like “to see if we can build some additional consensus on smarter patent laws.” So, Reps. DeFazio and Chaffetz introduced on March 1 the Saving High-tech Innovators from Egregious Legal Disputes (SHIELD) Act, which creates a “losing plaintiff patent-owner pays” litigation system for a single type of patent owner—patent licensing companies that purchase and license patents in the marketplace (and who sue infringers when infringers refuse their requests to license). To Google, to Representative DeFazio, and to others, these patent licensing companies are “patent trolls” who are destroyers of all things good—and the SHIELD Act will save us all from these dastardly “trolls” (is a troll anything but dastardly?).

As I and other scholars have pointed out, the “patent troll” moniker is really just a rhetorical epithet that lacks even an agreed-upon definition.  The term is used loosely enough that it sometimes covers and sometimes excludes universities, Thomas Edison, Elias Howe (the inventor of the lockstitch in 1843), Charles Goodyear (the inventor of vulcanized rubber in 1839), and even companies like IBM.  How can we be expected to have a reasonable discussion about patent policy when our basic terms of public discourse shift in meaning from blog to blog, article to article, speaker to speaker?  The same is true of the new term, “Patent Assertion Entities,” which sounds more neutral, but has the same problem in that it also lacks any objective definition or usage.

Setting aside this basic problem of terminology for the moment, the SHIELD Act is anything but a “smarter patent law” (to quote President Obama). Some patent scholars, like Michael Risch, have begun to point out some of the serious problems with the SHIELD Act, such as its selectively discriminatory treatment of certain types of patent-owners.  Moreover, as Professor Risch ably identifies, this legislation was so cleverly drafted to cover only a limited set of a specific type of patent-owner that it ended up being too clever. Unlike the previous version introduced last year, the 2013 SHIELD Act does not even apply to the flavor-of-the-day outrage over patent licensing companies—the owner of the podcast patent. (Although you wouldn’t know this if you read the supporters of the SHIELD Act like the EFF who falsely claim that this law will stop patent-owners like the podcast patent-owning company.)

There are many things wrong with the SHIELD Act, but one thing that I want to highlight here is that it based on a falsehood: the oft-repeated claim that two Boston University researchers have proven in a study that “patent troll suits cost American technology companies over $29 billion in 2011 alone.”  This is what Rep. DeFazio said when he introduced the SHIELD Act on March 1. This claim was repeated yesterday by House Members during a hearing on “Abusive Patent Litigation.” The claim that patent licensing companies cost American tech companies $29 billion in a single year (2011) has become gospel since this study, The Direct Costs from NPE Disputes, was released last summer on the Internet. (Another name of patent licensing companies is “Non Practicing Entity” or “NPE.”)  A Google search of “patent troll 29 billion” produces 191,000 hits. A Google search of “NPE 29 billion” produces 605,000 hits. Such is the making of conventional wisdom.

The problem with conventional wisdom is that it is usually incorrect, and the study that produced the claim of “$29 billion imposed by patent trolls” is no different. The $29 billion cost study is deeply and fundamentally flawed, as explained by two noted professors, David Schwartz and Jay Kesan, who are also highly regarded for their empirical and economic work in patent law.  In their essay, Analyzing the Role of Non-Practicing Entities in the Patent System, also released late last summer, they detailed at great length serious methodological and substantive flaws in The Direct Costs from NPE Disputes. Unfortunately, the Schwartz and Kesan essay has gone virtually unnoticed in the patent policy debates, while the $29 billion cost claim has through repetition become truth.

In the hope that at least a few more people might discover the Schwartz and Kesan essay, I will briefly summarize some of their concerns about the study that produced the $29 billion cost figure.  This is not merely an academic exercise.  Since Rep. DeFazio explicitly relied on the $29 billion cost claim to justify the SHIELD Act, and he and others keep repeating it, it’s important to know if it is true, because it’s being used to drive proposed legislation in the real world.  If patent legislation is supposed to secure innovation, then it behooves us to know if this legislation is based on actual facts. Yet, as Schwartz and Kesan explain in their essay, the $29 billion cost claim is based on a study that is fundamentally flawed in both substance and methodology.

In terms of its methodological flaws, the study supporting the $29 billion cost claim employs an incredibly broad definition of “patent troll” that covers almost every person, corporation or university that sues someone for infringing a patent that it is not currently being used to manufacture a product at that moment.  While the meaning of the “patent troll” epithet shifts depending on the commentator, reporter, blogger, or scholar who is using it, one would be extremely hard pressed to find anyone embracing this expansive usage in patent scholarship or similar commentary today.

There are several reasons why the extremely broad definition of “NPE” or “patent troll” in the study is unusual even compared to uses of this term in other commentary or studies. First, and most absurdly, this definition, by necessity, includes every university in the world that sues someone for infringing one of its patents, as universities don’t manufacture goods.  Second, it includes every individual and start-up company who plans to manufacture a patented invention, but is forced to sue an infringer-competitor who thwarted these business plans by its infringing sales in the marketplace.  Third, it includes commercial firms throughout the wide-ranging innovation industries—from high tech to biotech to traditional manufacturing—that have at least one patent among a portfolio of thousands that is not being used at the moment to manufacture a product because it may be “well outside the area in which they make products” and yet they sue infringers of this patent (the quoted language is from the study). So, according to this study, every manufacturer becomes an “NPE” or “patent troll” if it strays too far from what somebody subjectively defines as its rightful “area” of manufacturing. What company is not branded an “NPE” or “patent troll” under this definition, or will necessarily become one in the future given inevitable changes in one’s business plans or commercial activities? This is particularly true for every person or company whose only current opportunity to reap the benefit of their patented invention is to license the technology or to litigate against the infringers who refuse license offers.

So, when almost every possible patent-owning person, university, or corporation is defined as a “NPE” or “patent troll,” why are we surprised that a study that employs this virtually boundless definition concludes that they create $29 billion in litigation costs per year?  The only thing surprising is that the number isn’t even higher!

There are many other methodological flaws in the $29 billion cost study, such as its explicit assumption that patent litigation costs are “too high” without providing any comparative baseline for this conclusion.  What are the costs in other areas of litigation, such as standard commercial litigation, tort claims, or disputes over complex regulations?  We are not told.  What are the historical costs of patent litigation?  We are not told.  On what basis then can we conclude that $29 billion is “too high” or even “too low”?  We’re supposed to be impressed by a number that exists in a vacuum and that lacks any empirical context by which to evaluate it.

The $29 billion cost study also assumes that all litigation transaction costs are deadweight losses, which would mean that the entire U.S. court system is a deadweight loss according to the terms of this study.  Every lawsuit, whether a contract, tort, property, regulatory or constitutional dispute is, according to the assumption of the $29 billion cost study, a deadweight loss.  The entire U.S. court system is an inefficient cost imposed on everyone who uses it.  Really?  That’s an assumption that reduces itself to absurdity—it’s a self-imposed reductio ad absurdum!

In addition to the methodological problems, there are also serious concerns about the trustworthiness and quality of the actual data used to reach the $29 billion claim in the study.  All studies rely on data, and in this case, the $29 billion study used data from a secret survey done by RPX of its customers.  For those who don’t know, RPX’s business model is to defend companies against these so-called “patent trolls.”  So, a company whose business model is predicated on hyping the threat of “patent trolls” does a secret survey of its paying customers, and it is now known that RPX informed its customers in the survey that their answers would be used to lobby for changes in the patent laws.

As every reputable economist or statistician will tell you, such conditions encourage exaggeration and bias in a data sample by motivating participation among those who support changes to the patent law.  Such a problem even has a formal name in economic studies: self-selection bias.  But one doesn’t need to be an economist or statistician to be able to see the problems in relying on the RPX data to conclude that NPEs cost $29 billion per year. As the classic adage goes, “Something is rotten in the state of Denmark.”

Even worse, as I noted above, the RPX survey was confidential.  RPX has continued to invoke “client confidences” in refusing to disclose its actual customer survey or the resulting data, which means that the data underlying the $29 billion claim is completely unknown and unverifiable for anyone who reads the study.  Don’t worry, the researchers have told us in a footnote in the study, they looked at the data and confirmed it is good.  Again, it doesn’t take economic or statistical training to know that something is not right here. Another classic cliché comes to mind at this point: “it’s not the crime, it’s the cover-up.”

In fact, keeping data secret in a published study violates well-established and longstanding norms in all scientific research that data should always be made available for testing and verification by third parties.  No peer-reviewed medical or scientific journal would publish a study based on a secret data set in which the researchers have told us that we should simply trust them that the data is accurate.  Its use of secret data probably explains why the $29 billion study has not yet appeared in a peer-reviewed journal, and, if economics has any claim to being an actual science, this study never will.  If a study does not meet basic scientific standards for verifying data, then why are Reps. DeFazio and Chaffetz relying on it to propose national legislation that directly impacts the patent system and future innovation?  If heads-in-the-clouds academics would know to reject such a study as based on unverifiable, likely biased claptrap, then why are our elected officials embracing it to create real-world legal rules?

And, to continue our running theme of classic clichés, there’s the rub. The more one looks at the actual legal requirements of the SHIELD Act, the more, in the words of Professor Risch, one is left “scratching one’s head” in bewilderment.  The more one looks at the supporting studies and arguments in favor of the SHIELD Act, the more one is left, in the words of Professor Risch, “scratching one’s head.”  The more and more one thinks about the SHIELD Act, the more one realizes what it is—legislation that has been crafted at the behest of the politically powerful (such as an Internet company who can get the President to do a special appearance on its own social media website) to have the government eliminate a smaller, publicly reviled, and less politically-connected group.

In short, people may have legitimate complaints about the ways in which the court system in the U.S. generally has problems.  Commentators and Congresspersons could even consider revising the general legal rules governing patent ligtiation for all plaintiffs and defendants to make the ligitation system work better or more efficiently (by some established metric).   Professor Risch has done exactly this in a recent Wired op-ed.  But it’s time to call a spade a spade: the SHIELD Act is a classic example of rent-seeking, discriminatory legislation.

I filed comments today on the FTC’s proposed Settlement Order in the Google standards-essential patents (SEPs) antitrust case. The Order imposes limits on the allowable process for enforcing FRAND licensing of SEPs, an area of great complexity and vigorous debate among industry, patent experts and global standards bodies. The most notable aspect of the order is its treatment of the process by which Google and, if extended, patent holders generally may attempt to enforce their FRAND-obligated SEPs through injunctions.

Unfortunately, the FTC’s enforcement action in this matter had no proper grounding in antitrust law. Under Supreme Court doctrine there is no basis for liability under Section 2 of the Sherman Act because the exercise of lawfully acquired monopoly power is not actionable under the antitrust laws. Apparently recognizing this, the Commission instead brought this action under Section 5 of the FTC Act. But Section 5 provides no basis for liability either, where, as here, there is no evidence of consumer harm. The Commission’s Order continues its recent trend of expanding its Section 5 authority without judicial oversight, charting a dangerously unprincipled course.

The standard-setting organizations (SSOs) that govern the SEPs in this case have no policies prohibiting the use of injunctions. Even if an SSO agreement (or a specific license) did disallow them, seeking an injunction would be a simple breach of contract. Reading a limitation on injunctions into the SSO agreement is in severe tension with the normal rules of contract interpretation. To turn Motorola’s effort to receive a reasonable royalty for its patents by means of an injunction into an antitrust problem seems directly to undermine the standard-setting process. It also seems to have no basis in law.

My comments rely heavily on Bruce Kobayashi and Josh Wright’s article, Federalism, Substantive Preemption, and Limits on Antitrust: An Application to Patent Holdup, published in Competition Policy and Patent Law Under Uncertainty: Regulating Innovation (Manne & Wright, eds.).

For previous posts on the topic see, e.g.:

The Federal Trade Commission yesterday closed its investigation of Google’s search business (see my comment here) without taking action. The FTC did, however, enter into a settlement with Google over the licensing of Motorola Mobility’s standards-essential patents (SEPs). The FTC intends that agreement to impose some limits on an area of great complexity and vigorous debate among industry, patent experts and global standards bodies: The allowable process for enforcing FRAND (fair, reasonable and non-discriminatory) licensing of SEPs, particularly the use of injunctions by patent holders to do so. According to Chairman Leibowitz, “[t]oday’s landmark enforcement action will set a template for resolution of SEP licensing disputes across many industries.” That effort may or may not be successful. It also may be misguided.

In general, a FRAND commitment incentivizes innovation by allowing a SEP owner to recoup its investments and the value of its technology through licensing, while, at the same, promoting competition and avoiding patent holdup by ensuring that licensing agreements are reasonable. When the process works, and patent holders negotiate licensing rights in good faith, patents are licensed, industries advance and consumers benefit.

FRAND terms are inherently indeterminate and flexible—indeed, they often apply precisely in situations where licensors and licensees need flexibility because each licensing circumstance is nuanced and a one-size-fits-all approach isn’t workable. Superimposing process restraints from above isn’t necessarily the best thing in dealing with what amounts to a contract dispute. But few can doubt the benefits of greater clarity in this process; the question is whether the FTC’s particular approach to the problem sacrifices too much in exchange for such clarity.

The crux of the issue in the Google consent decree—and the most controversial aspect of SEP licensing negotiations—is the role of injunctions. The consent decree requires that, before Google sues to enjoin a manufacturer from using its SEPs without a license, the company must follow a prescribed path in licensing negotiations. In particular:

Under this Order, before seeking an injunction on FRAND-encumbered SEPs, Google must: (1) provide a potential licensee with a written offer containing all of the material license terms necessary to license its SEPs, and (2) provide a potential licensee with an offer of binding arbitration to determine the terms of a license that are not agreed upon. Furthermore, if a potential licensee seeks judicial relief for a FRAND determination, Google must not seek an injunction during the pendency of the proceeding, including appeals.

There are a few exceptions, summarized by Commissioner Ohlhausen:

These limitations include when the potential licensee (a) is outside the jurisdiction of the United States; (b) has stated in writing or sworn testimony that it will not license the SEP on any terms [in other words, is not a “willing licensee”]; (c) refuses to enter a license agreement on terms set in a final ruling of a court – which includes any appeals – or binding arbitration; or (d) fails to provide written confirmation to a SEP owner after receipt of a terms letter in the form specified by the Commission. They also include certain instances when a potential licensee has brought its own action seeking injunctive relief on its FRAND-encumbered SEPs.

To the extent that the settlement reinforces what Google (and other licensors) would do anyway, and even to the extent that it imposes nothing more than an obligation to inject a neutral third party into FRAND negotiations to assist the parties in resolving rate disputes, there is little to complain about. Indeed, this is the core of the agreement, and, importantly, it seems to preserve Google’s right to seek injunctions to enforce its patents, subject to the agreement’s process requirements.

Industry participants and standard-setting organizations have supported injunctions, and the seeking and obtaining of injunctions against infringers is not in conflict with SEP patentees’ obligations. Even the FTC, in its public comments, has stated that patent owners should be able to obtain injunctions on SEPs when an infringer has rejected a reasonable license offer. Thus, the long-anticipated announcement by the FTC in the Google case may help to provide some clarity to the future negotiation of SEP licenses, the possible use of binding arbitration, and the conditions under which seeking injunctive relief will be permissible (as an antitrust matter).

Nevertheless, U.S. regulators, including the FTC, have sometimes opined that seeking injunctions on products that infringe SEPs is not in the spirit of FRAND. Everyone seems to agree that more certainty is preferable; the real issue is whether and when injunctions further that aim or not (and whether and when they are anticompetitive).

In October, Renata Hesse, then Acting Assistant Attorney General for the Department of Justice’s Antitrust Division, remarked during a patent roundtable that

[I]t would seem appropriate to limit a patent holder’s right to seek an injunction to situations where the standards implementer is unwilling to have a neutral third-party determine the appropriate F/RAND terms or is unwilling to accept the F/RAND terms approved by such a third-party.

In its own 2011 Report on the “IP Marketplace,” the FTC acknowledged the fluidity and ambiguity surrounding the meaning of “reasonable” licensing terms and the problems of patent enforcement. While noting that injunctions may confer a costly “hold-up” power on licensors that wield them, the FTC nevertheless acknowledged the important role of injunctions in preserving the value of patents and in encouraging efficient private negotiation:

Three characteristics of injunctions that affect innovation support generally granting an injunction. The first and most fundamental is an injunction’s ability to preserve the exclusivity that provides the foundation of the patent system’s incentives to innovate. Second, the credible threat of an injunction deters infringement in the first place. This results from the serious consequences of an injunction for an infringer, including the loss of sunk investment. Third, a predictable injunction threat will promote licensing by the parties. Private contracting is generally preferable to a compulsory licensing regime because the parties will have better information about the appropriate terms of a license than would a court, and more flexibility in fashioning efficient agreements.

* * *

But denying an injunction every time an infringer’s switching costs exceed the economic value of the invention would dramatically undermine the ability of a patent to deter infringement and encourage innovation. For this reason, courts should grant injunctions in the majority of cases.…

Consistent with this view, the European Commission’s Deputy Director-General for Antitrust, Cecilio Madero Villarejo, recently expressed concern that some technology companies that complain of being denied a license on FRAND terms never truly intend to acquire licenses, but rather “want[] to create conditions for a competition case to be brought.”

But with the Google case, the Commission appears to back away from its seeming support for injunctions, claiming that:

Seeking and threatening injunctions against willing licensees of FRAND-encumbered SEPs undermines the integrity and efficiency of the standard-setting process and decreases the incentives to participate in the process and implement published standards. Such conduct reduces the value of standard setting, as firms will be less likely to rely on the standard-setting process.

Reconciling the FTC’s seemingly disparate views turns on the question of what a “willing licensee” is. And while the Google settlement itself may not magnify the problems surrounding the definition of that term, it doesn’t provide any additional clarity, either.

The problem is that, even in its 2011 Report, in which FTC noted the importance of injunctions, it defines a willing licensee as one who would license at a hypothetical, ex ante rate absent the threat of an injunction and with a different risk profile than an after-the-fact infringer. In other words, the FTC’s definition of willing licensee assumes a willingness to license only at a rate determined when an injunction is not available, and under the unrealistic assumption that the true value of a SEP can be known ex ante. Not surprisingly, then, the Commission finds it easy to declare an injunction invalid when a patentee demands a (higher) royalty rate in an actual negotiation, with actual knowledge of a patent’s value and under threat of an injunction.

As Richard Epstein, Scott Kieff and Dan Spulber discuss in critiquing the FTC’s 2011 Report:

In short, there is no economic basis to equate a manufacturer that is willing to commit to license terms before the adoption and launch of a standard, with one that instead expropriates patent rights at a later time through infringement. The two bear different risks and the late infringer should not pay the same low royalty as a party that sat down at the bargaining table and may actually have contributed to the value of the patent through its early activities. There is no economically meaningful sense in which any royalty set higher than that which a “willing licensee would have paid” at the pre-standardization moment somehow “overcompensates patentees by awarding more than the economic value of the patent.”

* * *

Even with a RAND commitment, the patent owner retains the valuable right to exclude (not merely receive later compensation from) manufacturers who are unwilling to accept reasonable license terms. Indeed, the right to exclude influences how those terms should be calculated, because it is quite likely that prior licensees in at least some areas will pay less if larger numbers of parties are allowed to use the same technology. Those interactive effects are ignored in the FTC calculations.

With this circular logic, all efforts by patentees to negotiate royalty rates after infringement has occurred can be effectively rendered anticompetitive if the patentee uses an injunction or the threat of an injunction against the infringer to secure its reasonable royalty.

The idea behind FRAND is rather simple (reward inventors; protect competition), but the practice of SEP licensing is much more complicated. Circumstances differ from case to case, and, more importantly, so do the parties’ views on what may constitute an appropriate licensing rate under FRAND. As I have written elsewhere, a single company may have very different views on the meaning of FRAND depending on whether it is the licensor or licensee in a given negotiation—and depending on whether it has already implemented a standard or not. As one court looking at the very SEPs at issue in the Google case has pointed out:

[T]he court is mindful that at the time of an initial offer, it is difficult for the offeror to know what would in fact constitute RAND terms for the offeree. Thus, what may appear to be RAND terms from the offeror’s perspective may be rejected out-of-pocket as non-RAND terms by the offeree. Indeed, it would appear that at any point in the negotiation process, the parties may have a genuine disagreement as to what terms and conditions of a license constitute RAND under the parties’ unique circumstances.

The fact that many firms engaged in SEP negotiations are simultaneously and repeatedly both licensors and licensees of patents governed by multiple SSOs further complicates the process—but also helps to ensure that it will reach a conclusion that promotes innovation and ensures that consumers reap the rewards.

In fact, an important issue in assessing the propriety of injunctions is the recognition that, in most cases, firms would rather license their patents and receive royalties than exclude access to their IP and receive no compensation (and incur the costs of protracted litigation, to boot). Importantly, for firms that both license out their own patents and license in those held by other firms (the majority of IT firms and certainly the norm for firms participating in SSOs), continued interactions on both sides of such deals help to ensure that licensing—not withholding—is the norm.

Companies are waging the smartphone patent wars with very different track records on SSO participation. Apple, for example, is relatively new to the mobile communications space and has relatively few SEPs, while other firms, like Samsung, are long-time players in the space with histories of extensive licensing (in both directions). But, current posturing aside, both firms have an incentive to license their patents, as Mark Summerfield notes:

Apple’s best course of action will most likely be to enter into licensing agreements with its competitors, which will not only result in significant revenues, but also push up the prices (or reduce the margins) on competitive products.

While some commentators make it sound as if injunctions threaten to cripple smartphone makers by preventing them from licensing essential technology on viable terms, companies in this space have been perfectly capable of orchestrating large-scale patent licensing campaigns. That these may increase costs to competitors is a feature—not a bug—of the system, representing the return on innovation that patents are intended to secure. Microsoft has wielded its sizeable patent portfolio to drive up the licensing fees paid by Android device manufacturers, and some commentators have even speculated that Microsoft makes more revenue from Android than Google does. But while Microsoft might prefer to kill Android with its patents, given the unlikeliness of this, as MG Siegler notes,

[T]he next best option is to catch a free ride on the Android train. Patent licensing deals already in place with HTC, General Dynamics, and others could mean revenues of over $1 billion by next year, as Forbes reports. And if they’re able to convince Samsung to sign one as well (which could effectively force every Android partner to sign one), we could be talking multiple billions of dollars of revenue each year.

Hand-wringing about patents is the norm, but so is licensing, and your smartphone exists, despite the thousands of patents that read on it, because the firms that hold those patents—some SEPs and some not—have, in fact, agreed to license them.

The inability to seek an injunction against an infringer, however, would ensure instead that patentees operate with reduced incentives to invest in technology and to enter into standards because they are precluded from benefiting from any subsequent increase in the value of their patents once they do so. As Epstein, Kieff and Spulber write:

The simple reality is that before a standard is set, it just is not clear whether a patent might become more or less valuable. Some upward pressure on value may be created later to the extent that the patent is important to a standard that is important to the market. In addition, some downward pressure may be caused by a later RAND commitment or some other factor, such as repeat play. The FTC seems to want to give manufacturers all of the benefits of both of these dynamic effects by in effect giving the manufacturer the free option of picking different focal points for elements of the damages calculations. The patentee is forced to surrender all of the benefit of the upward pressure while the manufacturer is allowed to get all of the benefit of the downward pressure.

Thus the problem with even the limited constraints imposed by the Google settlement: To the extent that the FTC’s settlement amounts to a prohibition on Google seeking injunctions against infringers unless the company accepts the infringer’s definition of “reasonable,” the settlement will harm the industry. It will reinforce a precedent that will likely reduce the incentives for companies and individuals to innovate, to participate in SSOs, and to negotiate in good faith.

Contrary to most assumptions about the patent system, it needs stronger, not weaker, property rules. With a no-injunction rule (whether explicit or de facto (as the Google settlement’s definition of “willing licensee” unfolds)), a potential licensee has little incentive to negotiate with a patent holder and can instead refuse to license, infringe, try its hand in court, avoid royalties entirely until litigation is finished (and sometimes even longer), and, in the end, never be forced to pay a higher royalty than it would have if it had negotiated before the true value of the patents was known.

Flooding the courts and discouraging innovation and peaceful negotiations hardly seem like benefits to the patent system or the market. Unfortunately, the FTC’s approach to SEP licensing exemplified by the Google settlement may do just that. Continue Reading…

You can listen here: http://www.fed-soc.org/publications/detail/is-the-patent-system-working-or-broken-a-discussion-with-judges-posner-and-michel-podcast

Is the Patent System Working or Broken?

A Discussion with Judges Posner and Michel

 Today, people read almost daily reports about the “broken patent system” in newspaper articles, blogs and at social media websites.  Is this true?  On the one hand, the high-tech and biotech industries seem awash in patent litigation, and Congress, regulatory agencies, and courts are considering adopting a variety of reform measures.  On the other hand, patents are securing property rights in technological innovation once imagined only as science fiction — tablet computers, smart phones, genetic testing for cancer, personalized medical treatments for debilitating diseases, and many others — and these technological marvels are now a commonplace feature of our lives.

To discuss these two conflicting stories about whether the patent system promotes or hampers innovation, we will host two distinguished jurists: Paul Michel, former Chief Judge of the Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit, and Judge Richard Posner of the Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit.  Both judges have unparalleled depth in knowledge about patent policy and the working details of the patent system.  This Teleforum brings them together for the first time to discuss their respective views on whether the patent system today is properly securing property rights in new innovation.

Featuring: 

Hon. Paul R. Michel, United States Court of Appeals, Federal Circuit (ret.)

Hon. Richard A. Posner,United States Court of Appeals, Seventh Circuit

Professor Adam Mossoff, George Mason University Law School (Moderator)

A heavily revised and expanded verison of one of my earlier blog postings was just posted as an op-ed on Forbes.com.  This op-ed addresses how the FTC and DOJ have let themselves become swept up in anti-patent rhetoric, as evidenced by the FTC-DOJ workshop on December 10 that I participated in. Here’s a small taste of the op-ed:

Although the public hears the mantra almost daily that “the patent system is broken,” what we really need is a thorough evaluation of the historic impact the patent system has had on innovation without the negative hype and misinformation that is perpetuated in news headlines or blogs. On December 10, the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) and the Department of Justice (DOJ) held the first of a series of workshops on the patent system and innovation. This first workshop dived into the workings of what some people call “patent assertion entities” (PAE), which are firms that acquire and license patents. The FTC and DOJ, as well as most of the invited participants at the workshop, adopted the “PAE” label as the subject of their critical scrutiny.

 Of course, identifying these firms by their business model of patent licensing denies the patent system naysayers the pejorative rhetorical force of their “PAE” label.  In fact, patent licensing firms have come under attack in newspaper reports, in blogs, and in academic commentary, prompting the FTC and DOJ to consider whether to sanction patent licensing firms for allegedly undermining the innovation made possible by the patent system through some nebulous notion that patent licensing is somehow “anti-competitive.” If anything, this reveals the power of rhetoric.

The truth is that these patent licensing firms maximize value in patented innovation, proving once again Adam Smith’s classic economic insight that specialization and division of labor is key to the success of a commercial economy. There has always existed since the early nineteenth century a secondary market in the sale and purchase of patents, but these firms make use of modern developments in corporate law, finance, and technology to reap new value for inventors or other firms who lack either the knowledge or resources to monetize their innovation assets. In short, patent licensing firms reflect the exact same value-maximizing aggregation and specialization that other firms have long employed in our successful invention economy, such as when 3M or Thomas Edison’s Menlo Park Laboratory aggregated inventors for research and development itself. Patent licensing firms, by better enabling inventors to sell and exchange their ideas, bring the same efficiencies to our invention economy as did the invention of R&D departments over one hundred years ago.

As the blogging master (Instapundit) likes to say: Read the whole thing!

In Part One, I addressed the argument by some libertarians that so-called “traditional property rights in land” are based in inductive, ground-up “common law court decisions,” but that intellectual property (IP) rights are top-down, artificial statutory entitlements.  Thus, for instance, libertarian law professor, Tom Bell, has written in the University of Illinois Journal of Law, Technology & Policy: “With regard to our tangible rights to person and property, they’re customary and based in common law. Where do the copyrights and patents come from? From the legislative process.” 2006 Univ.Ill. J. L. Tech. & Pol’y 92, 110 (sorry, no link). 

I like Tom, but, as I detailed in Part One, he’s just wrong in his contrast here between the “customary” “common law” court decisions creating property versus the  “legislative process” creating IP rights. This is myth masquerading as history. As all first-year property students learn each year, the foundation of Anglo-American property law is based in a statute, and many property rights in land were created by statutes enacted by Parliament or early American state legislatures.  In fact, the first statute — the Statute Quai Empotores of 1290 — was enacted by Parliament to overrule feudal “custom” enforced by the “common law” decisions at that time, creating by statutory fiat the basic foundational rule of the Anglo-American property right that property rights are alieanable.

As an aside, Geoff Manne asked an excellent question in the comments to Part One: Who cares? My response is that in part it’s important to call out the use of a descriptive historical claim to bootstrap a normative argument. The question is not who cares, but rather the question is why does Tom, Jerry Brito and other libertarians care so much about creating this historical myth, and repeatedly asserting it in their writings and in their presentations? The reason is because this triggers a normative context for many libertarians steeped in Hayek’s theories about the virtues of disaggregated decision-making given dispersed or localized knowledge, as contrasted with the vices of centralized, top-down planning. Thus, by expressly contrasting as an alleged historical fact that property arises from “customary” “common law” court decisions versus the top-down “legislative processes” creating IP, this provides normative traction against IP rights without having to do the heavy lifting of actually proving this as a normative conclusion. Such is the rhetorical value of historical myths generally — they provide normative framings in the guise of a neutral, objective statement of historical fact — and this is why they are a common feature of policy debates, especially in patent law.

What’s even more interesting is that this is not just a historical myth about the source of property rights in land, which were created by both statutes and court decisions, but it’s also an historical myth about IP rights, which are also created by both statutes and court decisions. The institutional and doctrinal interplay between Parliament’s statutes and the application and extension of these statutes by English courts in creating and enforcing property rights in land was repeated in the creation and extension of the modern Anglo-American IP system.  Who would have thunk?

Although there are lots of historical nuances to the actual legal developments, a blog posting is ideal to point out the general institutional and systemic development that occurred with IP rights. It’s often remarked, for instance, that the birth of Anglo-American patent law is in Parliament’s Statute of Monopolies (1624).  Although it’s true (at least in a generalized sense), the actual development of modern patent law — the legal regime that secures a property right in a novel and useful invention — occurred entirely at the hands of the English common law courts in the eighteenth century, who (re)interpreted this statute and extended it far beyond its original text.  (I have extensively detailed this historical development here.)  Albeit with some differences, a similar institutional pattern occurred with Parliament enacting the first modern copyright statute in 1709, the Statute of Anne, which was then interpreted, applied and extended by the English common law courts.

This institutional and doctrinal pattern repeated in America. From the very first enactment of copyright and patent statutes by the states under the Articles of Confederation, and then by Congress enacting the first federal patent and copyright statutes in 1790, courts then interpreted, applied and extended these statutes in common law fashion.  In fact, it is a cliché in patent law that many patent doctrines today were created, not by Congress, but by two judges – Justice Joseph Story and Judge Learned Hand.  Famous patent law historian, Frank Prager, writes that it is “often said that Story was one of the architects of American patent law.”  There’s an entire book published of Judge Learned Hand’s decisions in patent law. That’s how important these two judges have been in creating patent law doctrines.

So, the pattern has been that Congress passes broadly framed statutes, and the federal courts then create doctrines within these statutory frameworks.  In patent law, for instance, courts created the exhaustion doctrine, secondary liability, the experimental use defense, the infringement doctrine of equivalents, and many others.  Beyond this “common law” creation of patent doctrines, courts have further created and defined the actual requirements set forth in the patent statutes for utility, written description, enablement, etc., creating legal phrases and tests that one would search in vain for in the text of the actual patent statutes. Interestingly, Congress sometimes has subsequently codified these judicially created doctrines and sometimes it has left them alone.  Sometimes, Congress even repeals the judicially created tests, as it did in expressly abrogating the judicially created “flash of genius” test in § 103 of the 1952 Patent Act.  All of this goes to show that, just as it’s wrong to say that property rights in land are based solely in custom and common law court decision, it’s equally wrong to say that IP rights are based solely in legislation.

Admittedly, the modern copyright statutes are far more specific and complex than the patent statutes, at least before Congress passed the American Invents Act of 2011 (AIA).  In comparison to the pre-AIA patent statutes, the copyright statutes appear to be excessively complicated with industry and work-specific regimes, such as licensing for cable (§ 111), licensing for satellite transmissions (§ 119), exemptions from liability for libraries (§ 108), and licensing of “phonorecords” (§ 109), among others.  These and other provisions have been cobbled together by repeated amendments and other statutory enactments over the past century or so.  This stands in stark contrast to the invention- and industry-neutral provisions that comprised much of the pre-AIA patent statutes.

So, this is a valid point of differentiation between patents and copyrights, at least as these respective IP rights have developed in the twentieth century.  And there’s certainly a valid argument that complexity in the copyright statutes arising from such attempts to legislate for very specific works and industries increases uncertainties, which in turn unnecessarily increases administration and other transaction costs in the operation of the legal system.

Yet, it bears emphasizing again that, before there arose heavy emphasis on legislation in copyright law, many primary copyright doctrines were in fact first created by courts.  This includes, for instance, fair use and exhaustion doctrines, which were later codified by Congress. Moreover, some very important copyright doctrines remain entirely in the domain of the courts, such as secondary liability. 

The judicially created doctrine of secondary liability in copyright is perhaps the most ironic, if only because it is the use of this doctrine on the Internet against P2P services, like Napster, Aimster, Grokster, and BitTorrent operators, that sends many libertarian IP skeptics and copyleft advocates into paroxysms of outrage about how rent-seeking owners of statutory entitlements are “forcing” companies out of business, shutting down technology and violating the right to liberty on the Internet. But secondary liability is a “customary” “common law” doctrine that developed out of similarly traditional “customary” doctrines in tort law, as further extended by courts to patent and copyright!

As with the historical myth about the origins of property rights in land, the actual facts about the source and nature of IP rights belies the claims by some libertarians that IP rights are congressional “welfare grants” or congressional subsidies for crony corporations. IP rights have developed in the same way as property rights in land with both legislatures and courts creating, repealing, and extending doctrines in an important institutional and doctrinal evolution of these property rights securing technological innovation and creative works.

As I said in Part One, I enjoy a good policy argument about the value of securing property rights in patented innovation or copyrighted works.  I often discuss on panels and in debates how IP rights make possible the private-ordering mechanisms necessary to convert inventions and creative works into real-world innovation and creative products sold to consumers in the marketplace. Economically speaking, as Henry Manne pointed out in a comment to Part One, defining a property right in an asset is what makes possible value-maximizing transactions, and, I would add, morally speaking, it is what secures to the creator of that asset the right to the fruits of his or her productive labors. Thus, I would be happy to debate Tom Bell, Jerry Brito or any other similarly-minded libertarian on these issues in innovation policy, but before we can do so, we must first agree to abandon historical myths and base our normative arguments on actual facts.

It’s almost impossible to read an article or blog posting today about patents that doesn’t complain that “the patent system is broken.”  It’s especially prevalent in reports on high-tech patents, software patents, or the “smart phone wars.”  (I’m not hyperlinking here, because there’s just too many examples to choose between.)  In fact, the din on the increasingly clichéd statement that “the patent system is broken” is really reaching histrionic proportions.  It’s even prompted Patent Commissioner David Kappos to appeal to “those reporting and commenting on the smartphone system patent wars” to “move beyond the flippant rhetoric and instead engage in thoughtful discussion.”

Although it’s tempting to think that Commissioner Kappos is engaging in his own bombastic exclamations in his criticism of “flippant rhetoric,” it’s unfortunately true.  Here’s just one relatively recent example from the venerable New York Times, called “Apple Now Owns the Page Turn,” by Nick Bilton.

In this brief article, Mr. Bilton decries that Apple “now owns the page turn” in ebook readers with its recently issued design patent (D670,713).  Proclaiming that this is proof of “how broken the patent system is,” Mr. Bilton informs his readers that this design patent “gives Apple the exclusive rights to the page turn in an e-reader application.”

No, Mr. Bilton, it does not, and the NY Times should be embarrassed that such ignorant proclamations continue to be published under its masthead, including the blatantly biased and equally ill-informed hit piece on software patents published by the Old Gray Lady last October.

When most people talk about patents, they usually are speaking about a utility patent, which do secure exclusive property rights in new technology and discoveries.  But there is an entirely different type of patent, called a design patent.  Despite legal requirements that superficially sound similar, such as requirements of novelty and nonobviousness, design patents are entirely different from utility patents.

If Mr. Bilton had bothered to do even the minimal amount of research that most college undergraduates do today, say by checking Wikipedia’s entry on design patents, he would have discovered that it is certainly not true that Apple has “exclusive rights to the page turn in an e-reader application.” Despite Wikipedia’s well-deserved reputation for ill-informed entries, it actually has a good, succinct summary of design patents, describing briefly the differences between design patents and utility patents, and it even cites some classic examples from 150 years ago, such as design patents on famous fonts, the design patent on the statue of liberty, etc.

So, if Mr. Bilton had bothered to take five minutes to check Wikipedia before writing his NY Times posting, he would have learned that design patents are not patents on functional technology, but rather secure only non-functional, ornamental designs. For the sake of this vaunted NY Times writer and the many people he has mislead, I’ll repeat the most important word here in the definition: non-functional. Thus, Apple does not own e-book page-turning technology nor does it own the function of turning pages in an e-book reader. What this design patent secures is the novel ornamental design Apple has developed for its particular e-book reader, and it’s limited to exactly this particular ornamental design — no more, no less. For anyone even semi-aware of Steve Jobs and Apple Computer — an innovative person and his company who recognized the fundamental role and value of artistic design in computer technology since 1984’s release of the famous Macintosh computer – it should hardly be surprising that it is protecting its IP rights in these innovative design features.

Instead, Mr. Bilton negligently suggests that Apple could sue other e-book readers for their page turning technology because it now has “exclusive rights to the page turn in an e-reader application,” but this is patently false (pun intended).  And Mr. Bilton is clearly negligent here and his mistake is entirely his fault, because in the second paragraph of his NY Times report, he explicitly identifies Apple’s patent as a “design patent.”  This is significant, because everything he writes in his report after saying “design patent” is 100% wrong by mere dint of this term, because everything he writes after this wrongly assumes that Apple’s patent is a “utility patent.”

(As an aside, this design patent might be invalid, but Mr. Bilton provides no information or facts to make this judgment, because all of his high-handed rhetoric is based on the assumption that it is a utility patent.  Of course, if this was a utility patent, it would be invalid, as ebook readers that change pages have been around for many years, but what of the particular ornamental design of this ebook reader? One will search in vain in Mr. Bilton’s report for any information on this all-important question.)

Admittedly, there is much confusion today about the patent system, and much of this confusion is caused by misleading reports like those written by Mr. Bilton.  Of course, there are some good reporters and bloggers, who are commenting sensibly on the “smart phone wars” and other issues in the public policy debates over patents today.  But, unfortunately, Mr. Bilton represents a far larger cadre of reporters and bloggers who spread confusion and misinformation about the patent system and about the “smart phone war” in particular.

The real problem with this “broken reporting” by Mr. Bilton and his ilk is that it is feeding a growing anti-patent frenzy among commentators, academics, and the public, who seem to think that your smart phones, tablets and other technological marvels just don’t exist because of a so-called “broken patent system” that has stymied software and other high-tech innovation at every turn. I’m glad to see that some people, like Commissioner Kappos, the Honorable Paul Michel, and the Honorable Randall Rader, are starting to push back against this “broken reporting” on the patent system.

Last week, I participated in a panel discussion on standard essential patents and antitrust at the Washington Legal Foundation.  The panel was entitled, “Standard Essential Patents: Where do IP Protections End and Antitrust Concerns Begin?”  It was a great panel, and I think everyone did a really good job at avoiding any unnecessary technical jargon in discussing what is a very complex issue.

You can read about the panel in this blog posting by WLF’s Chief Counsel of its Legal Studies Division, Glenn Lammi (who also moderated the panel discussion).

Even better, you can watch the video of the panel here.

The claim that there is a “patent litigation explosion” is a myth, but there’s a related patent litigation myth that has proven cantankerously resilient in the patent policy debates — there’s an “explosion” of patent-owners racing to the International Trade Commission (ITC) who are obtaining exclusion orders against infringers.

Well, this argument has crashed and burned against the hard facts of the actual numbers, but even before patent filings at the ITC dropped, this argument was still problematic.

The reason is that it was an example of a great game that we all learn in college: fun with statistics!  It’s the old rhetorical saw: If actual numbers don’t make something look bad, then just reframe the point as an out-of-context statistical claim and now it sounds like a complete disaster that demands immediate action by everyone—by Congress, by courts, and, given that the season is almost upon us, by Santa Claus (who should punish these allegedly rent-seeking patent-owners with coal in their stockings).

You may think I jest, but it’s common fare for commentators and academics to paint the situation in the ITC entirely in terms of statistical increases by patent-owners.  To take but one representative example from a 2009 academic article:

The ITC has become a popular forum for enforcing patents, with the number of actions increasing by nearly 80% since 2003.

An 80% increase in patent filings in six years!  This is clearly a litigation hurricane of historic proportions!  We must do something about this before the ITC is flooded like New York City was by Hurricane Sandy!

Yet, when one looks behind the statistics at the actual numbers, it’s almost laughable that numerous law journal articles, newspaper articles, and blog postings are breathlessly reporting on this as if this is a pressing policy problem in both the patent system and the ITC.  Congress even spent more taxpayer dollars holding hearings this past summer on this allegedly pressing problem, and what a waste of time this was.

Here’s the actual numbers behind the statistics: From 2003 to 2009 (fiscal year), patent filings in the ITC increased from 19 to 29.  In the ten years from 2001 to 2011, patent case filings in the ITC went from 29 to 70.  (Note the drop between 2001 and 2003, a drop that has occurred again and to which we will return shortly.)

So, commentators and academics want Congress to change the law to make it harder for patent-owners to seek relief at the ITC because patent filings increased in ten years from 29 cases to 70 cases.  Alas, 70 total cases doesn’t sound too bad, especially when hundreds of thousands of lawsuits and other regulatory cases are filed annually.  So, the easy answer to this problem is to reframe rhetorically the total cases: the shift from 29 to 70 cases is an increase of 141%!  In ten years!  Yep, fun with statistics.

But even if one thinks for some strange reason that 70 cases is a huge number of filings at the ITC, this is still an out-of-context assertion that doesn’t mean anything.  As empirical economists and statisticians always ask: What’s the baseline?

One good baseline is to compare ITC filings to patent infringement cases filed in plain-old-vanilla federal court. How many patent infringement cases are filed each year in federal court?  In 2010, the total number of patent infringement lawsuits was 3,605 cases.  Yes, you read that number right: 3,605 cases.  (That’s the last year for which we have numbers.)  And before readers jump to the conclusion that 3,605 cases is an unmitigated patent litigation explosion, this would be incorrect as well — as I explained in a previous blog posting, patent litigation rates today are approximately the same or less than the patent litigation rates from 1790 to 1860.

In sum, we’re supposed to be filled with shock and awe by the 70 patent cases that were filed in the ITC in 2011, as compared to the 3,605 cases filed in federal court.  These 70 patents cases at the ITC, we’re told, demand immediate congressional action to impose a regime change on the ITC in limiting its jurisdiction over patents.  To put it bluntly, people are getting their patent policy knickers in a twist because 1.94% of total patent infringement cases are also being filed in the ITC.  Yep, fun with statistics.

And as Billy Mays would say: But wait, there’s more!  (That OxiClean was definitely worth it.  My sneakers were never so clean.)

Lest one still thinks that the number of patent filings in the ITC is a problem, the ITC released last month its fiscal-year 2012 report on patent filings — a report that got about as much attention as a report on dryer lint accumulations in fiscal-year 2012.  Given the ongoing uproar over patent filings in the ITC, one would expect that the ITC’s report would be have been trumpeted in news articles, blog postings, and by the commentators and academics who have been singing this tune for the past several years.

Nope, not a single peep about this report has been made in the more-than-30 days since its release.  Why the silence — the deafening silence — about the most recent data from the ITC on patent filings?

The reason is simple: the facts in the latest ITC fiscal-year report don’t fit the policy narrative.  The ITC reported that patent cases filed in the ITC dropped from a high of 70 cases in 2011 to a total of 48 cases in 2012 (fiscal year).  In the statistical terms loved so much by the critics of patent filings at the ITC, patent filings dropped by 31.4% between 2011 and 2012 (fiscal years).  Now that’s an interesting statistical number about which much could be said — or, as is the case, not said and ignored in the hope that it’ll just go away.

So, what happened to the loud, incessant complaints about skyrocketing patent filings in the ITC?  Well, to paraphrase the old man at the end of every Scooby Doo episode: And I would have gotten away with it, too, if it wasn’t for you meddling facts!

UPDATE: I made some minor copy-edit changes to the text after I posted it.