Monday, May 11, 2015

Reading list: entertainment franchises and Drassinower

Law and Creativity in the Age of the Entertainment Franchise, ed. Kathy Bowrey & Michael Handler: A collection of essays on the general theme, some much more specific than others. The editors suggest that the things that the entertainment industry values dont map very well onto the law, but that industry members nonetheless deploy/interact with the law to get what they want.  I like their working definition of franchises: franchises involve connected cultural content that some entity tries to exploit and keep profitable over time.
 
David Lindsay contributes a pretty bad defense of copyright in Franchises, imaginary worlds, authorship and fandom, arguing that a hierarchy of ownership is important to sustain the attractiveness of a cultural artifact, because fandoms are like religions and religions need hierarchyyes, multiple interpretations are inevitable, but polysemous meaning needs a claim of authoritativeness against which to define itself.  (I was not aware of that, and nor I think were the directors of many a Hamlet I have seen.  Polysemous meaning may well need other interpretations against which to define itself, but I see no requisite connection to hierarchy.)  In a world where different kinds of content compete for limited attention, he argues, its important to have a combination of material that is familiar to an audienceboth in terms of its content and its authorial reputationwith the potential for the generation of new meanings.  These universes must be owned to ensure their authenticity and integrity, without which fans and audiences wont form an ongoing attachment.  (Citation needed.)  Within those controlled boundaries, then, theres room for experimentation/playing out the rules of the world.  But fans need to be kept in line: Just as the ambiguous line between orthodoxy and heresy played a policing role in the Middle Ages, uncertainty surrounding copyright infringement is essential in constructing the terms of the relationship between franchise owners and online communities.  (Or not: see, e.g., transformativeworks.org.  I really wish people wouldnt treat copyright uncertainty as so much more uncertain than other legal regimes.  What does it take to avoid driving a car negligently?) 
 
The fact that franchise owners naturally have a strong interest in being a source (although not necessarily the sole source) of canonical meaning, and in being perceived by a fan community as the responsible (and potentially responsive) guardians (or co-guardians) of canonical meaning really says nothing about what the law should give them.  These claims for the necessity of some permanent meaning in order to preserve a community around a work have been made many times before; Ive never been persuaded. Lindsay even discusses affirmational v. transformative fandom, then proceeds to ignore transformative fandom by saying that fan communities are based upon defining themselves against outsiders,’” and therefore that fan communities do not protect the diversity of responses to texts but rather foster exclusion and identity politics, based on claims about their depth of knowledge (and loyalty to) canonical meaning and the enclosure of meaning.  He might feel excluded from my fandoms, but I am sure that none of them are recognizable in this description.
 
Of course fan/producer relations arent as simple as the contrast between franchise owners as over-zealous control freaks, and fans as the virtuous creators of socially valuable meaning, but thats not where fan studies is (or really has been for a while, if it ever was--he misses the whole aspect of fan studies that is about recuperating fandom from the pathologization to which it was subject and to which Lindsay seems to be indifferent).  A key issue is exploitation, and Lindsay just valorizes it instead of critiquing it or attempting to understand the many ways in which it might play out.  Its not helpful to insist that [i]n a commercial culture, content is a commodity and that economic law demands that producers maximize profitsnot only is it empirically false (theres plenty of irrational behavior in the content sector, not to mention noncommercial production), its normatively bankrupt. 
 
What really galls me is the evidence-free insistence that control is necessary to preserve something called authenticity, as if authenticity werent contingent and negotiable.  Lindsay even seems to acknowledge this, retreating to the assertion that struggles over authenticity are necessary to a franchisewhich gets us back to the religion point.  It may well be true that such struggles are a part of a healthy belief system, but that doesnt mean that there needs to be any state-sponsored religion.  When you have to analogize copyright law to the Inquisition, you might be on the wrong side of the argument.  (Really!  [J]ust as when the uniform Christian world view began to fray in the face of the proliferation of meanings spurred by the Reformation the Church developed institutions such as the Inquisition to police heretics, so, in the face of the proliferation of meanings through online fan communities, the threat of copyright infringement can be used by franchise owners to police meaning.)  I suppose its not surprising that the chapter lacks any concrete examples of how he thinks this works.  Lindsay refuses to define the extent of legal control he thinks is necessaryshall corporate owners wield the power of excommunication? What does it even mean to require a threat to hang over fan activities?  Must that threat ever be carried out?  Enforcement is absent in this accountthough it definitely wasnt in his analogous Inquisition.
 
More gems: Hierarchy is important: the creative process, and the relationship between authors and audiences, is necessarily asymmetrical . [E]veryone may be a creator, but that does not mean that everyone is equally creative.  (Straw men, anyone?)  GRRM doesnt like fan fiction, which means something.  But Lindsay doesnt want to enter into the increasingly tendentious debates over the pros and cons of fan fiction.  Still, if we feel sympathy for an author who feels sad over the bowdlerization of her creation by a corporate licensee, why wouldnt we feel the same sympathy when it is digitally empowered fans that may be responsible for the bowdlerizing?  (Id love to find this corner of fandom that bowdlerizes.  Of course, Congress has legalized what CleanFlicks, which really did bowdlerize, sought to do, so again I must wonder about relevance.) 
 
Really, Lindsay just wants to be clear that neither side, corporate or fandom, has self-evidently better claims to higher normative ground.  In this environment, its claims by individual authors like GRRM for respect that might be the most desirable, because they can disrupt both fandom and corporate constructions.  Why this ability to intervene in debates over meaning requires the threat of copyright infringement liability is an exercise left for the reader.
 
Johnson Okpaluba contributes a chapter on digital sampling, arguing that licensing was prevalent in the US music industry even before litigation established a rule of get a license or dont sample. Its true that its hard/impossible now to make commercial sample-heavy albums like Pauls Boutique and It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, but those werent ever the most common uses of sampling, Okpaluba argues, and those albums shouldnt be seen as an artistic peak, since thats just a subjective aesthetic judgment.  (Valuing the possibility of variety isnt part of this analysis.)  Producers shifted to new sampling techniques and/or live instrumentation, so legal constraints on sampling were productive of creativity.  Joseph Fishman recently made the same argument in Creating Around Copyright. I find it unpersuasive, since this thesis doesnt explain why the law is needed on top of artistic motives to experiment and strike out in new directions, and the resulting legal suppression is not neutral. 
 
David Rolphs chapter on defamation law and celebrities has an interesting case study of how filing a defamation case harmed the public image of a celebrity, turning him from nice guy into perceived bully.  Celebritys fluidity, Rolph suggests, may be inconsistent with defamation laws understanding of the stolidity of reputation.
 
Other chapters cover the Disneyfication of theater; Australian film and TV practices relating to reality show (and other) concepts; the codification of flamenco music; arts festivals; and carnivals as franchise opportunities for locations with communities with a strong connection to the Caribbean.  I didnt know that you can buy a carnival-in-a-box package to promote tourism to your city!
 
Abraham Drassinower, Whats Wrong with Copying?: Really thought-provoking book that proceeds from the thesis that copyright ought to be a true authors right: a right to participate in a conversation, which entails a like right of others, thus creating its own inherent limits (specifically the idea/expression distinction and transformative fair use).  Also, because copyright rights involve communication, non-usesincluding database uses and private copyingare not infringements of the legitimate copyright rights.  I was about half persuaded.  He convincingly argues that the balance metaphor of copyright (balancing author and audience interests) doesnt justify copyright because it doesnt tell us what is to be balanced.  It makes copyrights lack of coverage for ideas and facts, as well as fair use, into empirical questions when they shouldnt be; balancing certainly cant tell you as a matter of first principle that copyright should protect expression and only expression, or why copyright and patent are different. A mousetrap may well involve creativity just not the kind of creativity copyright protects.
 
He makes a good point about defending the public interest versus the public domain; instrumentalist accounts of copyright focus on the former, when we should defend the latter. In Drassinowers view, only understanding copyright as dealing with communicative acts can explain copyright: copyright is not a property right, but a right inhering in persons as speaking beings.  Because others need free access to ideas and transformative fair use, an authors claim cant extend to thosethough Drassinower doesnt fully convince me that hes defended these needs (why is freedom to copy ideas always necessary to the next author?). 
 
One quibble comes from his use of Borges Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote to defend the principle that independent creation cant be infringement, since Menard is definitely an authorbut Menard was also definitely not an independent creator in the sense of not needing Cervantes as a but-for cause of his creation.  I also thought his distinction between copyright and trademark was unpersuasive, since he defines trademark as the right to completely control the meaning of a mark as applied to a good or service, and a trademark is not and should not be that!  Were allowed to talk about a Mickey Mouse operation, or a Cadillac health plan. 
 
As Drassinower recognizes, entailed in his view is that the derivative works right is illegitimate, which would be a big changethough he does allow for room for infringement via substantial similarity, at least in some cases.  He also, in what I think is a concession thats inconsistent with his theory but he thinks necessary for practical purposes, allows for the existence of a translation right.  Of course translation also requires creative endeavor by the translator, but he argues that [u]nlike fan fiction, which uses the work of another in ones own, translation is not a speaking in ones own words but a rendering of anothers words in another language. Unauthorized translation is therefore infringing. Im not sure I can go with himwhy isnt then a movie version a translation of a book into a different medium and therefore infringing, justifying at least part of the derivative works right?  He recognizes translation as authorial but also infringing; that opens the possibility of other categories of authorial acts that are also infringing, and now were back to fighting over the scope of the derivative works right.
 
Drassinower is trenchant in his criticism of US parochialism, which dismisses rights-based accounts of copyright law out of hand.  Low-protectionists worry that an author-centered account of copyright would give authors too much control, but not all authorial demands would be plausible in his accountrespecting an authors autonomy doesnt require us to diminish the autonomy of others.  Only republishing her words without also transforming them to be ones own expression, whether through commentary or otherwise, ought to count as compelled speech (treating her like a puppet, working at the behest of others without her consent) that she can suppress.

"Handmade" is too vague to be actionable for bourbon

Salters v. Beam Suntory, Inc., 2015 WL 2124939, No. 14cv659 (N.D. Fla. May 1, 2015)
 
Plaintiffs alleged that Maker’s Mark bourbon was falsely advertised as “handmade.” In a pithy opinion, the court found that they couldn’t state a claim for falsity.  As support for the allegations of falsity, plaintiffs alleged that “Maker’s Mark is not made by hand but is instead manufactured with large machines in a highly mechanized process.”
 
Handmade means “made by hand,” although that is of course circular:
 
But the term obviously cannot be used literally to describe bourbon. One can knit a sweater by hand, but one cannot make bourbon by hand. Or at least, one cannot make bourbon by hand at the volume required for a nationally marketed brand like Maker’s Mark. No reasonable consumer could believe otherwise.
 
RT: Last I checked, knitting usually required tools, albeit simple tools.  (There is a method known as finger knitting, also arm knitting, but it can’t, as far as I know, produce a sweater.)  It’s amazing how technology can be invisible to us in particular ways.  Like making a sweater, making bourbon requires tools—the question is whether they are hand tools.
 
Plaintiffs didn’t argue that “handmade,” in the context of bourbon, meant “literally made by hand.” They offered other possible meanings, including “made from scratch or in small units.” But the defendants say they made Maker’s Mark that way, and the plaintiffs didn’t allege otherwise, or challenge the representation on the label that each batch consists of no more than 19 barrels. Plaintiffs argued that “handmade” implies close attention by a human being, not a high-volume, untended process. But the defendants again said their human beings paid close attention and that they made their bourbon in small, carefully tended batches. Plaintiffs alleged no contrary facts, nor could they plausibly allege that they were unaware that Maker’s Mark is mass marketed nationwide.
 
Then plaintiffs tried the argument that “handmade” means made with only some kinds of machines, not others, and that defendants used machines that were too big or too modern.  “[I]t is hard to take from the word ‘handmade’ a representation about the age, or even the size, of equipment used in the process.”  (This debate about authenticity occurs in many “craft” spaces—I’ve seen woodworking debates over what counts as a “legitimate” hand tool.)
 
Then plaintiffs contended that “handmade” “connotes greater value and trades on the current fashion that also brought us craft beer.” Construed as such, “a general, undefined statement that connotes greater value, detached from any factual representation” was mere puffery.

Friday, May 08, 2015

Answer unclear in Clearly beverage infringement case

Clearly Food & Beverage Co. v. Top Shelf Beverages, Inc., No. C13–1763, 2015 WL 1926503 (W.D. Wash. Apr. 28, 2015)
 
Plaintiff Clearly Food owns, by a 2012 assignment from the defunct Clearly Canadian corporation, a registration for Clearly Canadian for “flavored mineral waters, fruit flavored mineral waters, non-flavored mineral waters, carbonated mineral waters, noncarbonated mineral waters, bottled drinking waters, spring waters, soft drinks and fruit juices.” By the time of the assignment, the product was no longer being made, though Clearly Food intended to “reintroduce Clearly Canadian” by “bringing back the original legacy line in its premium glass teardrop bottle (6+ flavors).” Since then, Clearly Food resumed manufacturing Clearly Canadian beverages in limited quantities, with bottles of sparkling water sold online. Clearly Food has an online pre-sales campaign directed at consumers, and also received larger-scale orders from several beverage distributors. Its plan was to begin selling in retail grocery stores in 2015.
 
Top Shelf sells a flavored kombucha beverage under the label “Clearly Kombucha.” “Kombucha is a drink brewed from green tea and then fermented with a symbiotic colony of bacteria and yeast.” Top Shelf’s kombucha is unique because it is clear: their filtration process makes their kombucha “free from solid ‘floaties’ typically associated with kombucha [that are] ... caused by the symbiotic colony of bacteria and yeast.” Its name was originally “Top Shelf Kombucha,” marketed as a premium mixer and non-alcoholic drink; at the end of 2010, Top Shelf changed marketing strategies and decided to differentiate the product from competitors based on its “clear” quality. It also decided that it wanted Top Shelf to be recognized as a socially conscious brewer with transparent manufacturing practices. Thus, it changed the name to “Clearly Kombucha.”
 
Top Shelf applied for a registration, and the mark was published for opposition in April 2011. It was then launched in Ralph’s grocery stores throughout California. Clearly Kombucha is now sold at various retailers in California and the Pacific Northwest, and is also available on the internet.
 
When Clearly Canadian sued, Top Shelf first argued abandonment, but couldn’t persuade the court to grant it summary judgment. “The standard for non-use is high” and requires “complete cessation or discontinuance of trademark use.” Even a single use is enough to avoid abandonment if the use is made in good faith. Evaluating whether use is in the ordinary course of trade is often intensely factual. Regardless of whether the standard of proof was clear and convincing or preponderance, Top Shelf failed to carry its burden.
 
The predecessor entity’s last full-scale production run of Clearly Canadian beverages was sometime in 2009. In September 2009, it shipped 432 cases of Clearly Canadian 20–ounce bottles to Paw Paw Wine Distributor in Michigan. Paw Paw sold these to retailers from 2009 through 2011. In August 2009, GrayCo Sales Limited, a beverages distributor in Ontario, Canada, also sold approximately $225,000 worth of Clearly Canadian product to a retailer. Intrastate Distributors, Inc., a beverage wholesale and manufacturing company located in Michigan, bottled Clearly Canadian product during 2011 and 2012. GrayCo’s president maintained a trade booth at the Canadian National Exhibition in 2010 and 2011 featuring Clearly Canadian products. (How are any of the Canadian activities relevant to whether there was use in the US?)
 
In 2012, GrayCo negotiated a license with Clearly Food to sell Clearly Canadian beverages. Also in 2012, Intrastate filled approximately 1,800 12–pack cases of 11–ounce bottles with Clearly Canadian product and sold 1,872 cases of Clearly Canadian beverages to GrayCo. GrayCo then displayed and sold Clearly Canadian beverages during the 2012 Canadian National Exhibition, which typically has over 1.5 million attendees. In October 2012, GrayCo sold 720 cases of Clearly Canadian beverages to an online retailer called Beverages Direct, and transported the product to Beverages Direct in the United States. Beverages Direct sold the product exclusively to retail purchasers located in the United States. In 2013, Intrastate sold another approximately $10,000 worth of product to GrayCo, several pallets of which went to Beverages Direct, and the balance to the 2013 Canadian National Exhibition.
 
Clearly Food’s 2014 online pre-sales campaign generated over 10,000 orders, resulting in over 27,000 cases of product due to be shipped in 2015. Over 90% of those transactions are with US customers. Clearly Food also received eight “full truckload” orders from seven different beverage distributors, meaning that it will ship over 30,000 bottles of Clearly Canadian product in 2015.
 
Thus, the evidence showed that “intermittent, yet appreciable commercial sales” occurred from 2009 to now. A jury could reasonably find that those sales were sufficient to preclude a finding of abandonment. A jury could find that the scope of the activity was commercially reasonable given the situation: “a brand transfer, during bankruptcy proceedings, by a declining business to a start-up company seeking to revitalize the brand.” Although Top Shelf had evidence indicating that the sales made immediately after Clearly Food acquired the mark were made solely to preserve trademark rights, that wasn’t sufficient for summary judgment here.
 
The court didn’t reach Top Shelf’s argument in its reply brief that sales to third-party retailers or distributors weren’t sufficient “use in commerce” because they weren’t uses by or for the benefit of the trademark owner, because Top Shelf’s argument came too late. Top Shelf relied on two old TTAB rulings that stated: “A party cannot defend against a claim of abandonment by relying on some residual goodwill generated through post-abandonment sales of the product by distributors or retailers.” Also, Top Shelf didn’t explain how these rulings fit into Ninth Circuit case law. And anyway, there were sales in the US by or on behalf of Clearly Canadian in September 2009, and to Beverages Direct in October 2012. (Which is just over the three-year nonuse period that leads to a presumption of abandonment.) A jury could reasonably find that this gap gave rise to a presumption of abandonment, but even so, Clearly Food raised a question of material fact regarding the second prong of abandonment: intent to resume use of the mark. There was a lot of documentary evidence of Clearly Food’s intent to resume use, from August 2011 to now. A purely subjective desire to resume use, of course, isn’t enough, but Clearly Food also provided evidence of affirmative steps it took during 2012 to resume use, “including seeking out manufacturing and distribution retail partners, lining up investors, and creating a business plan.”
 
Nor could Top Shelf prove on summary judgment that the predecessor company abandoned the mark before Clearly Food purchased it. The mark hadn’t been out of use for more than three years at the time of sale, and financial troubles alone don’t prove intent to abandon. After all, “[s]ome business and financial firms even specialize in rescuing troubled companies, rehabilitating the business, and capitalizing on their goodwill and intellectual property, including trademarks.”
 
Top Shelf argued that Clearly Canadian’s trademark registration should be cancelled for fraud, but that’s hard to win. Clearly Food’s CEO’s declaration attached to its Section 8 renewal declared that the mark was in use, and used as a specimen a photograph of an empty plastic bottle of Clearly Canadian peach-flavored sparkling water. This bottle was bought in Michigan in 2011 by an affiliate. This evidence wasn’t enough to show fraud for summary judgment purposes: Top Shelf didn’t show the deception was willful. The CEO testified in deposition that, “although he knew Clearly Food itself was not manufacturing plastic bottles of Clearly Canadian beverages at the time he signed the declaration, he believed that the Clearly Canadian product was still being sold by third parties in commerce through 2011 (as shown by his affiliate’s then- recent purchase of the specimen bottle), and understood that such sales were sufficient to satisfy the Section 8 standard of use in commerce.” Though there was evidence that he understood that Clearly Canadian itself needed to use the mark in order to avoid abandonment, credibility is a question for the jury.
 
Nor did Top Shelf succeed in getting rid of the infringement claims. The court noted that invalidating the registration would only shift the burden to Clearly Food to show that its claimed mark was a mark, and found that Clearly Food could do so.
  
Clearly Canadian logo

Clearly Canadian bottles


Similarity: the bottles were shaped differently and the mark’s appearance on the labels wasn’t “overly similar.” The Clearly Canadian label has horizontal text and a picture of the fruit that represents the beverage’s flavor, while the Clearly Kombucha label has vertical text in a different font and an apparently whimsical drawing. The logos as used separately from the bottles also weren’t “overly similar”: Clearly Canadian’s logo consists of blue, horizontal text, and a red bottle with a maple leaf; Clearly Kombucha’s label is a black, oversized letter “C” with the word “Clearly” written vertically inside the “C” and the word “kombucha” written in a different font outside of the “C.”
 
Clearly Kombucha bottle

Clearly Kombucha logo

But the sound was quite similar, and “clearly” was the operative word in both trademarks. The PTO required both registrants to disclaim rights “Canadian” and “kombucha” without the preceding word “clearly.” And the meaning of the trademarks was also similar, insofar as they both relied on “clearly” to describe an aspect of their product. The rule that similarities weigh more heavily than differences controlled here: a reasonable jury could find that similarity favored plaintiff.
 
Marketing channels: while use of the internet doesn’t constitute overlapping marketing channels as a matter of law, the parties hotly contested whether the two products would typically be stored in the same shelves, aisles, or general areas of a retail store. Top Shelf argued that Clearly Kombucha must be located in the refrigerated section, while Clearly Food disagreed; on summary judgment, the court assumed that the products would be displayed near each other. “The significance of the potential adjacent storage, however, is blunted by the fact that Clearly Canadian is not currently sold in any brick and mortar retail stores. … [I]t remains unclear whether Clearly Canadian will be sold in similar retail stores as Clearly Kombucha, or in the same geographic region as Clearly Kombucha, in the near or intermediate future.” There’s no current significant overlap in marketing channels, and future overlap was speculative. Thus, this factor deserved little weight, and the weight it had favored Top Shelf.
 
Relatedness of goods: the products are single-serve, carbonated, clear bottled beverages. Though Top Shelf emphasized the affirmative health benefits allegedly associated with kombucha, a jury could find that the products were related enough to associate them.
 
Strength of the Clearly Canadian mark: Puzzlingly, the court held that a jury could reasonably find that the Clearly Canadian mark was descriptive or suggestive, even though above the court said correctly that “clearly” describes a product feature (as does Canadian)—how could it be otherwise? (The registration was filed on a 44(d) basis and issued under 44(e), if you’re wondering.)
 
Clearly Food’s evidence of secondary meaning was lots of sales (though they dwindled substantially after 1992); Clearly Canadian’s Facebook page, which has received over 35,000 “likes”; and a November 2014 episode of a daily internet comedy show with over one million subscribers that discussed the Clearly Canadian beverages for four-and-a-half minutes. A jury could reasonably find that this strength favored Clearly Food, or that the mark was weak. Clearly Food contended, but did not provide evidence that, the mark was incontestable, which would be conclusive proof of secondary meaning. But incontestability doesn’t make a mark strong; “the relative strength or weakness of an incontestable mark is still relevant to the likelihood of confusion analysis.”
 
There was conflicting evidence on actual confusion. Top Shelf’s survey found that “the majority of respondents ... said that Clearly Kombucha is either not affiliated with or sponsored by any other company organization, or they ‘don’t know.’” Clearly Food presented five written comments from consumers encountering Top Shelf’s products online expressing a belief that Clearly Kombucha and Clearly Canadian were affiliated: (1) “are you no longer making Clearly Canadian, too?”; (2) a comment next to picture of Clearly Kombucha bottles: “instead of clearly Canadian it’s clearly Kombucha!” (that doesn’t seem clearly confused, if you’ll excuse the pun); (3) a similar comment, “I’ve heard of (and loved) Clearly Canadian, but never Clearly Kombucha!” (same); (4) a query on Clearly Kombucha’s Facebook page asking, “Are you producing Clearly Canadian too? You are the same company yes?” (note that the cases are split on whether clarifying questions are evidence of confusion or evidence that consumers recognize that there’s a difference worth attending to); and (5) another query “Why are you pushing only Clearly Kombucha? Your Clearly Canadian should be on top! I used to drink you all the time growing up.”  Clearly Food also attacked Top Shelf’s survey.  A jury could reasonably find Clearly Food’s evidence to be de minimis or more credible than Top Shelf’s survey.
 
Clearly Food also claimed that it intended to release a sparkling tea beverage in the United States that will overlap with the Clearly Kombucha product, but it failed to provide any supporting evidence for that assertion.
 
Consumer care: Top Shelf’s expert called kombucha a “niche product” and opined that the price point of Clearly Kombucha is high enough, relative to other bottled beverages, to foster a relatively greater degree of care among consumers. Top Shelf’s founder also testified that its clients are particularly health-conscious, and therefore are more discerning. Clearly Food rebutted this with evidence showing that Top Shelf’s beverages have been sold at a variety of price points, on the low end from $1.50 to $3.00. A jury could reasonably find a low degree of consumer care.
 
Intent to confuse is of minimal importrance, but Top Shelf’s awareness of the Clearly Canadian brand weighed in favor of infringement.  (Argh!  Awareness isn’t intent to confuse!  Awareness is awareness.) Top Shelf’s founder, however, testified that the intent in changing the name of its product to Clearly Kombucha was both to emphasize the “clear” nature of its product and to “reflect transparency in the brewing process.”  This factor was neutral.
 
Because of the intensely factual nature of trademark disputes, summary judgment is generally disfavored, and that was true here.
 
Dilution, however, was a non-starter.  As of 2011, when Clearly Kombucha was launched, there wasn’t sufficient evidence of fame:
 
A consulting group’s 2007 report on the Clearly Canadian trademark showed that only 34 % of the survey respondents who had consumed flavored soda or water within the last month (and only 22% of the survey respondents overall) were aware of the Clearly Canadian brand. This recognition rate was much lower than the rate for competitors such as Aquafina (94%), Schweppes (77%), Perrier (76%), VitaminWater (61%), and Pellegrino (43%).
 
Sales had declined steadily between 1992 and 2007, and between 2007 and 2009 they dropped to a minimal amount. In 2009, production of Clearly Canadian beverages ceased. “Cybersquatters had taken over the Clearly Canadian website domains. Negligible sales of Clearly Canadian were occurring on the secondary market.” Clearly Food did not raise a question of fact on fame.  An internet comedy show discussion plus 35,000 Facebook “likes” were simply insufficient to show that Clearly Canadian was a “household name.”

Monday, May 04, 2015

EFF/OTW DMCA reply comments

Well, that's an alphabet soup.  Here are our reply comments to the opposition from DVDCSS and the MPAA et al. Notably, while opponents assert that remix videos are infringing, they don't oppose extension of the existing exemptions.

District court largely upholds mandatory GE disclosures

Grocery Manufacturers Assoc. v. Sorrell, 2015 WL 1931142, No. 5:14–cv–117 (D. Vt. Apr. 27, 2015)
 
Relax, we'll be here for a while.
 
Vermont passed a law, Act 120, requiring that manufacturers and retailers identify whether raw and processed food sold in Vermont was produced in whole or in part through genetic engineering (GE), and banning manufacturers from labeling or advertising GE foods as “natural,” “naturally made,” “naturally grown,” “all natural,” or “any words of similar import.” The court largely got rid of the challenges to the GE disclosure rule, while finding likely success on the merits of GMA’s Commerce Clause and First Amendment challenges for the natural ban (though still refusing to grant a preliminary injunction).
 
Under Act 120, genetic engineering is defined as “a process by which a food is produced from an organism or organisms in which the genetic material has been changed” through the application of in vitro nucleic acid techniques, fusion of cells, or hybridization techniques that overcome natural barriers, “where the donor cells or protoplasts do not fall within the same taxonomic group, in a way that does not occur by natural multiplication or natural recombination.”
 
GE foods must be labeled clearly and conspicuously; if some of the ingredients of processed food are made with GE ingredients, the food must be labeled “partially produced with genetic engineering,” “may be produced with genetic engineering,” or “produced with genetic engineering.”  However, Act 120 “shall not be construed to require” either “the listing or identification of any ingredient or ingredients that were genetically engineered” or “the placement of the term ‘genetically engineered’ immediately preceding any common name or primary product descriptor of a food.”  Also, the law bans GE manufacturers from using labeling, advertising, or signage indicating that a GE food product is “‘natural,’ ‘naturally made,’ ‘naturally grown,’ ‘all natural,’ or any words of similar import that would have a tendency to mislead a consumer.”
 
Act 120 has a number of exemptions, including alcoholic beverages and food not packaged for retail sale and food  “served, sold, or otherwise provided in any restaurant or other food establishment.”
 
The Vermont General Assembly made a number of findings as part of its enactment of Act 120.  Among the findings: the FDA doesn’t independently test the safety of genetically engineered foods, and most tests are financed or run by manufacturers. “The FDA does not use meta-studies or other forms of statistical analysis to verify that the studies it reviews are not biased by financial or professional conflicts of interest.”  There’s no consensus about the validity of this research; “there are peer-reviewed studies published in international scientific literature showing negative, neutral, and positive health results.”  There are no long-term or epidemiologic studies in the US on the safety of human consumption of GE foods. 
 
Moreover, the General Assembly declared that GE foods “potentially pose risks to health, safety, agriculture, and the environment.” It cited conflicting studies on their health consequences; the possibility of unintended consequences; the contribution of GE crops to genetic homogeneity, loss of biodiversity, and increased vulnerability of crops to pests, diseases, and variable climate conditions; the risks of cross-pollination or cross-contamination of organic crops, affecting their marketability; and the risks of cross-pollination for native flora and fauna.
 
Labeling, therefore, was justified as a way of letting consumers make decisions about their purchases, including letting people with anti-GE religious beliefs to avoid such food.
 
As for the “natural” restriction, the General Assembly found that GE “involves the direct injection of genes into cells, the fusion of cells, or the hybridization of genes that does not occur in nature,” so that labeling foods produced with genetic engineering as “natural,” “naturally made,” “naturally grown,” “all natural,” or other similar descriptors was “inherently misleading, poses a risk of confusing or deceiving consumers, and conflicts with the general perception that ‘natural’ foods are not genetically engineered.”
 
For the purpose of the motions before the court, the court did not decide whether the General Assembly erred in finding that GE foods posed potential risks to health, safety, agriculture, and the environment.
 
Plaintiffs claimed that compliance would be hugely costly; because non-GE foods are often hard to find, most of their products would have to be relabeled for sale in Vermont, and that creating a dual inventory with Vermont-specific labels and distribution channels would also be required. Smaller companies might not be able to compete, thus leading to reduced competition.
 
The state’s declarants disagreed, pointing out that using stickers, adding labels, or using separate packaging for products requiring a GE disclosure would be less costly and time-consuming. Changing labels is common, and the relabeling could be easily done in time: for example, Ben & Jerry’s estimated that the “entire process” of changing its packaging would cost $500 per SKU; that “a simple 4 to 6 word change to a label or package,” including the design, production, and delivery to its manufacturing facility, would be a “fairly easy” change that would take about six weeks; and that it would take six months from “package redesign to store shelf.”
 
The law also allows the AG to adopt rules for implementation.  The rule adopted by the AG stated that “[n]atural or any words of similar import” means “the words nature, natural, or naturally.” It also limited Act 120’s “natural” restriction on advertising or signage to a “retail premises” in Vermont.  It confirmed that Act 120 didn’t bar disclaimers that the FDA “does not consider food produced with genetic engineering to be materially different from other foods.” It provided that the law wouldn’t be construed to require the listing or identification of any GE ingredients; to require the placement of the term “genetically engineered” immediately preceding or following any common name or primary product descriptor of a food; or otherwise to require adding to or amending the information required by the FDA.
 
The court first turned to the dormant Commerce Clause challenge, as to which the plaintiffs didn’t seek a preliminary injunction. Act 120 was not facially discriminatory, and thus there couldn’t be a facial challenge. Nor did plaintiffs allege a discriminatory purpose of favoring Vermont products over the same or similar products from other states. Thus, the dormant Commerce Clause challenge depended on allegedly discriminatory effect. 
 
Plaintiffs alleged that the “natural” restriction reached national and Internet communications that cannot lawfully be regulated by a single state.  The law itself didn’t define “signage” or “advertising,” and applied to any non-exempt “[m]anufacturer” who produces, sells, distributes, or licenses GE products that are sold in or into Vermont, with no requirement that the signage and advertising occur in Vermont.  The parties didn’t brief whether the AG’s final rule purporting to limit Act 120’s reach to “advertising at or in the retail premises” for food “offered for retail sale in Vermont” was lawful, so the court focused on the text of Act 120 itself.
 
“A state law may burden interstate commerce when it ‘has the practical effect of requiring out-of-state commerce to be conducted at the regulating state’s direction.’” Because the internet (currently) lacks boundaries, it’s difficult verging on impossible for a state to regulate internet activities without projecting its legislation into other states. “Without limitation and for no stated purpose, Act 120 purports to prohibit GE manufacturers’ use of ‘natural’ terminology in signage and advertising regardless of where or how those activities take place,” which was sufficient to state a plausible per se violation of the Commerce Clause based upon discriminatory effects.
 
However, the remaining Commerce Clause claims were dismissed.  To run afoul of the Commerce Clause, a statute “must impose a burden on interstate commerce that is qualitatively or quantitatively different from that imposed on intrastate commerce.” Because Act 120 doesn’t “require manufacturers to label all [products] wherever distributed,” there was no Commerce Clause violation: “[t]he Vermont statute, by its terms, is indifferent to whether [products] sold anywhere else in the United States are labeled or not.” “To the extent the statute may be said to ‘require’ labels on [products] sold outside Vermont, then, it is only because the manufacturers are unwilling to modify their production and distribution systems to differentiate between Vermont-bound and non-Vermont-bound [products].”  Even if the costs of compliance fell disproportionately on larger, out-of-state GE manufacturers, the regulation was evenhanded in that both in- and out-of-state producers had the same “putative need to develop separate production and distribution systems to accommodate simultaneously the Vermont market and other state markets.” They could pass costs on to Vermonters, and anyway the fact that the regulation might mean lower profits doesn’t make it violate the Commerce Clause. Further, the complaint alleged no actual conflict between Act 120 and any mandatory GE labeling law elsewhere, and “a potential statutory conflict will not suffice.”
 
The court likewise largely rejected plaintiffs’ preemption claims, based on the NLEA as well as the Federal Meat Inspection Act and the Poultry Products Inspection Act (for “natural”).  The NLEA has express preemption provisions barring states from enacting food labeling requirements that are “not identical” to certain mandatory food labeling requirements set forth in the FDCA.  To prevail, plaintiffs needed to plausibly allege that Act 120’s disclosure requirement was “not identical” to a mandatory requirement of the FDCA.
 
The FDA hasn’t promulgated any formal standards for GE labeling, but it provides guidance for the voluntary disclosure of GE ingredients. “This clearly implies that, at least from the FDA’s perspective, GE ingredient information may be provided without violating federal law or misbranding a food product.” There’s also pending federal legislation intended to expressly preempt state GE disclosure requirements, and the court noted that this fact suggested that no existing preemption applies. “It is in the midst of this unpromising environment that Plaintiffs claim they can overcome the presumption against preemption.”
 
Plaintiffs argued that the GE disclosure requirement would force them to modify the “standard of identity” for some products, “the common or usual name” for other products, and the “list of ingredients” for all products. In order to be “not identical,” plaintiffs argued, all that must happen is that the state law requires disclosure of additional or different labeling information from the FDCA. There is a federal regulation that appears to interpret “not identical” in this manner.  But the courts “have rejected the proposition that a federal regulation may extend preemption beyond NLEA’s express preemption provisions.”  Thus, not all state labeling requirements of more or different information are preempted.  Instead, for preemption to apply, the FDCA must require the labeling at issue and Act 120’s disclosure requirement must govern the same information.  (Citing POM Wonderful LLC v. Coca–Cola Co., 134 S.Ct. 2228, 2237 (2014) (“‘Congress did not intend FDA oversight to be the exclusive means’ of ensuring proper food and beverage labeling.”).)
 
The FDCA provides that where the FDA has established a “standard of identity” for a food, the food product’s label “must bear[ ] the name of the food specified in the definition.” Plaintiffs argued that, for example, enriched corn meal, a product for there is a standard of identity, must be labeled “enriched corn meal made from genetically engineered corn.”  The plain language of the law rendered plaintiffs’ interpretation implausible.  So too with plaintiffs’ argument about the impact of the law on a product’s list of ingredients, since the law specifically said it shouldn’t be construed to require “the listing or identification of any ingredient or ingredients that were genetically engineered.” The AG’s final rule clarified that the GE disclosure is also not required to be placed in a product’s “principal display panel” or “information panel.” Thus, plaintiffs failed to establish that the GE disclosure requirement was “not identical” to any mandatory labeling requirement of the FDCA.
 
Nor was there conflict preemption.  Plaintiffs argued that they were required to label their products in a false and misleading manner by “convey[ing] an overall impression” that GE ingredients were materially different from non-GE ingredients and “not as safe as other foods” when the FDA refused to endorse this message.  It certainly wasn’t impossible to comply with both state and federal law.  The FDA allows voluntary GE disclosures, and Vermont pointed to what it said was a dual-compliant label voluntarily used by General Mills:
 
General Mills voluntary non-GE disclosure
Nor did the law stand as an obstacle to Congress’s purposes.  The allegedly false or misleading message of lack of safety wasn’t present on the face of the required disclosure, which made no statement about food safety.  “[A]ny ‘overall impression’ that GE ingredients are ‘unsafe’ owes nothing to the purely factual information provided by it.” Further, since “genetically engineered” is not federally regulated or defined with respect to foods, “it can hardly be said that a state definition that differs from definitions used in federal policy and guidance statements is ‘false and misleading,’ or ‘stands as an obstacle to the accomplishment and execution of the full purposes and objectives of Congress.’”
 
Plaintiffs’ strongest argument was that the FDCA/NLEA were designed to promote national uniformity in food labeling, allowing efficient and cost-effective marketing in all 50 states. Though that makes economic sense, “it runs afoul of the presumption against preemption which ‘is particularly [strong] where Congress has indicated its awareness of the operation of state law in a field of federal interest, and has nonetheless decided to stand by both concepts and to tolerate whatever tension there [is] between them.’” And that’s the field of food and beverage regulation. So, the conflict preemption claims based on the FDCA/NLEA were dismissed.
 
Plaintiffs also alleged that the FMIA and PPIA “expressly preempt all state regulation of labeling of meat and poultry products, including products Act 120 does not exempt.” They argued that some GE food products that contain meat, poultry, and eggs didn’t fall within Act 120’s exemption for products “consisting entirely of or derived entirely from an animal,” are regulated for labeling purposes by the FMIA or the PPIA. However, they failed to identify even one of their members who produced a non-exempt GE food product covered by the FMIA or PPIA.  Still, plaintiffs alleged sufficient facts to give them standing at the pleading stage. Both laws “contain substantially identical preemption language which permits some concurrent state enforcement but prohibits state ‘[m]arking, labeling, packaging, or ingredient requirements in addition to, or different than, those’ mandated by federal law.”  Act 120 would clearly impose additional requirements, so was expressly preempted by the FMIA and PPIA for products subject to those laws.  However, without more concrete evidence that plaintiffs’ members actually manufacture GE food products that are non-exempt under Act 120 and subject to the FMIA or PPIA, the court couldn’t find likely success on the merits. Moreover, the AG’s final rule purported to exempt FMIA and PPIA products from Act 120’s embrace, “and thus renders an enforcement action unlikely.”  Thus, Vermont’s motion to dismiss the FMIA/PPIA related claims was denied without prejudice.
 
On to the First Amendment challenges!  As above, the GE disclosure requirement fares well and the “natural” ban does not. Plaintiffs argued that the GE disclosure was inaccurate, confusing, and frightening: “Act 120 requires manufacturers to use their labels to convey an opinion with which they disagree, and that the State does not purport to endorse: namely, that consumers should assign significance to the fact that a product contains an ingredient derived from a genetically engineered plant.” Plaintiffs argued that strict scrutiny applied because the law compelled political speech and discriminated on the basis of viewpoint.  Nope.
 
First, speech isn’t political just because it “emerged from an allegedly GE-hostile and politically-charged legislative environment.” Many, if not most, products can be tied to public issues about  “the environment, energy, economic policy, or individual health and safety.” This was still a food labeling requirement. Plus, “objection and opposition, no matter however vehement, do not, without more, convert a disclosure requirement about a food product into a political statement.”
 
Nor was the regulation viewpoint discrimination just because it failed to require the disclosure of the absence of GE ingredients. There was no authority to support the proposition that, if presence of a substance is disclosed, its absence must also be disclosed to be “even-handed.”  States don’t have to regulate for nonexistent problems. Nor did the mens rea requirement—exempting food produced “without the knowing or intentional use of” GE ingredients—constitute viewpoint discrimination.  (Viewpoint and mental state are very different things, invoked for different purposes.)
 
Content-based regulations are an inherent part of acceptable speech regulations; the real question is whether the government has regulated speech because of disagreement with the message it conveys.  But virtually all mandatory disclosure requirements force people to speak against their will based on the content of their speech (commercial speech) and the identity of the people speaking (commercial speakers).  (Virtually?) As the Second Circuit previously wrote, “[i]nnumerable federal and state regulatory programs require the disclosure of product and other commercial information” and that subjecting each to “searching scrutiny” is “neither wise nor constitutionally required.”
 
Impermissible viewpoint discrimination is “based on hostility—or favoritism—towards the underlying message expressed,” and “the opinion or perspective,” or “the specific motivating ideology,” of the speaker. But GE disclosure mandates disclosure of a fact. It doesn’t require sellers to convey a “preferred message” about that fact, “and it applies regardless of a manufacturer’s or retailer’s own view of GE and GE foods.”  It’s not viewpoint discrimination just because “it emerged from a contested legislative debate about the safety of GE foods” or because “it reflects the State’s preference for a legislative outcome.”  The law allows sellers to add information to correct any negative connotation—“the ability to convey additional information reflecting the speaker’s own perspective and opinions renders it unlikely that a statute reflects impermissible viewpoint discrimination.”
 
Thus, strict scrutiny did not apply.  On to intermediate scrutiny! Under Zauderer, intermediate scrutiny doesn’t apply to mandatory disclosures applied to commercial speech.  Instead, “disclosure requirements [must be] reasonably related to the State’s interest in preventing deception of consumers,” or “promote informed consumer decision-making” in order to address a potential cause of harm. So did Zauderer apply?
 
First, the compelled speech was commercial in nature. It might not propose a commercial transaction on its own (how much does any one statement on the average package “propose” a commercial transaction?), and it might even discourage some people from engaging in commercial transactions with the seller, but it related to the economic interests of buyer and seller. “Product labeling requirements are traditionally regarded as commercial speech even if they effectively discourage the product’s consumption.” 
 
The court then asked whether this was a factual or “controversial” disclosure. Plaintiffs argued that “[i]t would be difficult to point to a current consumer issue more controversial than genetic engineering,” and that Act 120’s definition of GE was erroneous, conflicted with other GE definitions used by the State, and conflicted with the FDA’s definition of GE. “Plaintiffs point to no authority for the proposition that speech is misleading when it fails to reflect a party’s preferred definition of a statutorily-defined term.”  Though the disclosure requirement was enacted in the midst of controversy over the safety and benefits of GE foods, that’s not enough.  Rather, the information that is compelled to be disclosed must itself be controversial. “[I]t is the nature of the regulation of compelled speech that controls, not the nature of the legislative debate that gave rise to its enactment.”  Other courts have required that compelled disclosures must be “opinion-based” before they can be said to convey a “controversial” governmental message. “A factual disclosure does not reflect an opinion merely because it compels a speaker to convey information contrary to its interests.”  Facts can be unpleasant or provoke emotions, but that doesn’t make facts into opinions.  Plus, if plaintiffs believe the disclosure conveys a negative message, they can correct that message with their own disclosures, including a statement that the FDA does not consider GE food to be materially different from non-GE food.
 
The only remaining requirement came from the First Circuit’s Amestoy decision invalidating a disclosure requirement based only on satisfying consumer curiosity. However, Amestoy is basically limited to its facts, where the state conceded that its only interest was in satisfying curiosity. Vermont did not so concede this time.  The findings and purpose extended beyond curiosity and documented the scientific debate about the safety of GE ingredients, their environmental impacts, and the state’s interest in accommodating religious beliefs about GE, “as well as its interest in providing factual information for purposes of informed consumer decision-making.”  Though some of these interests “arguably border on the appeasement of consumer curiosity,” commercial disclosure requirements that enhance consumer decision-making further First Amendment interests by promoting the flow of truthful information.
 
However, the court declined to conclude definitively that intermediate scrutiny didn’t apply; the motion to dismiss the intermediate scrutiny challenge was denied without prejudice.  (I don’t really understand this. If the level of scrutiny applied is a question of law, not a question of plausibility, why can’t the question of law be resolved now?)  But there was no likely success on the merits.
 
We’re left now with Zauderer’s reasonable relationship test. Unsurprisingly, Act 120 passed. Because “First Amendment protection for commercial speech is justified in large part by the information’s value to consumers,” the “constitutionally protected interest in not providing the required factual information is ‘minimal.’”  Zauderer applies not just to disclosures intended to prevent deception but also to disclosures intended to better inform consumers.  It wasn’t clear whether Zauderer requires a “substantial” government interest—the case itself rejected an argument that Ohio had to demonstrate its “disclosure requirement serves some substantial governmental interest” because this argument “overlooks material differences between disclosure requirements and outright prohibitions on speech.” Recent Second Circuit commercial disclosure cases did identify “substantial” interests, but did not explicitly require them. Anyway, as the D.C. Circuit observed, “the pedestrian nature of those interests affirmed as substantial calls into question whether any governmental interest—except those already found trivial by the Court—could fail to be substantial.” Assuming that a substantial interest was required, the purposes discussed above qualified; at this stage, the court viewed the legislature’s findings with deference. “The safety of food products, the protection of the environment, and the accommodation of religious beliefs and practices are all quintessential governmental interests, as is the State’s desire ‘to promote informed consumer decision-making.’”  Its alleged political motivation was irrelevant; that’s the case with most legislation.
 
Plaintiffs argued that, nonetheless, “the harms recited in Act 120 are not real” because they “consist of speculation and conjecture about speculation and conjecture” based only on “risks,” or “mere potentiality.” But there were studies supporting both “sides” of the GE debate, so plaintiffs couldn’t plausibly allege that Vermont’s evidence wasn’t “real”—only that it wasn’t persuasive. 
 
Finally, plaintiffs argued that there wasn’t a proper fit between the disclosure and the state’s interest, because a disclosure that a product “may” contain GE ingredients didn’t further the legislature’s purpose.  But the disclosure satisfied the reasonable relationship standard.  A state’s interest in “encouraging ... changes in consumer behavior” through compelled disclosure is “rationally related” to a disclosure requirement even if it’s not the best means of furthering that goal. Nor is there a requirement that a disclosure law be comprehensive. The Vermont General Assembly was therefore entitled to “take one step at a time.”  
 
Because the factual record was undeveloped, though, the court denied Vermont’s motion to dismiss this claim without prejudice.  Still, there was no likely success on the merits.
 
Now to the “natural” restriction.  None of plaintiffs’ members identified any specific products that contained GE ingredients but were nonetheless labeled “natural.”  This didn’t deprive them of standing, but it did affect entitlement to injunctive relief.
 
First, Vermont failed to show that the use of “natural” was “inherently or actually” misleading.  A state can’t completely ban statements that aren’t actually or inherently misleading, and the state has the burden of justifying its speech restriction. Because the law didn’t define “natural,” the state faced an “uphill battle” in showing actual/inherent misleadingness in the absence of a statutory or regulatory definition as a metric. Nor did the state show there was a single, accepted definition of the term, only that various definitions “share[d] commonalities.”
 
Vermont argued that, no matter how “natural” is defined, it couldn’t apply to GE foods because GE techniques were definitionally manmade, artificial, and not existing in nature. Both the World Health Organization and one of the members of plaintiff GMA, Monsanto, “define genetically modified organisms as those that have been altered from their ‘natural’ state.”  But there are lots of purposeful interferences with plant production, from greenhouses and fertilizers to watering and weeding plants.  “[A]ltering seeds and plants from their “natural” state has occurred for centuries through techniques such as selective breeding, hybridization, cross pollination, and grafting.”  “Natural” was thus a standardless term “that virtually no food manufacturer could satisfy.” 
 
The court also considered the General Assembly’s finding that “natural” was actually/inherently misleading as applied to GE foods with its further finding that the term “poses a risk of confusing or deceiving consumers,” because “[s]peech that is inherently misleading poses more than a risk of confusion or deception, and it is for this reason it receives no First Amendment protection.”  I think the court is collapsing various kinds of probabilities—not everyone will be fooled even by the most blatant of falsehoods, or the most subtle.  As the court notes below, fooling a substantial percentage of relevant consumers is enough to justify regulation, and we can conclusively presume that inherently misleading/false speech will do so.  The reason false/inherently misleading/actually misleading speech receives no constitutional protection is that its benefits are substantially outweighed by its harms, which is a normative as well as an empirical judgment.
 
Plus, the law’s numerous exemptions undermined Vermont’s position on inherent misleadingness.  Why would “natural” terms be inherently deceptive as applied to some foods and not others?  The state’s evidence of actual misleadingness came from a 2010 survey conducted by The Hartman Group, purportedly showing that 61% of consumers “believed” that “natural” suggests or implies “the absence of genetically engineered food.”  The Hartman report concluded that “natural” was increasingly meaningful to consumers desiring fresh, real foods, but that arguably conflicted with its further finding that “natural as a marketing term remains vague and unappealing to consumers.”
 
Anyway, “[a] survey asking whether certain consumers think GE is a ‘fundamentally unnatural’ process, is not the equivalent of actual and unsolicited citizen problems or complaints regarding GE manufacturers’ use of ‘natural’ terminology.” [How would the citizens know to complain in the absence of GE disclosures? Also, as stated, this conclusion is inconsistent with the court’s later invocation of the Lanham Act standard, since surveys are regularly accepted in Lanham Act cases.  Perhaps the court means that this kind of survey—asking for whether something is misleading—is not probative, whereas a different kind of survey, asking consumers what they took away from the “natural” label, would be probative.]  At most, Vermont had “some evidence that some consumers may find the use of ‘natural’ terminology in conjunction with GE food misleading depending on how ‘natural’ is defined.” That wasn’t enough to support an outright ban on commercial speech.
 
Because the speech was only potentially misleading, Act 120’s “natural” regulation had to survive Central Hudson. It didn’t. Where speech isn’t false or misleading (note how “potentially” misleading speech is treated here as not false or misleading; that didn’t have to be the case), the government’s interest must be substantial, the restriction must directly and materially advance the governmental interest, and the restriction must be no more extensive than necessary to serve that interest.
 
The court returned to falsity: “Whether Act 120 restricts false and misleading speech in anything other than a random and arbitrary manner turns on how ‘natural’ is defined.” If “natural” means occurring or existing “in nature,” then virtually no food products qualify, and GE manufacturers weren’t the only commercial speakers who should be restricted from its use. Likewise, if “natural” means “nothing artificial” or “less processed,” then products with preservatives, stabilizers, artificial colorings, or flavorings should also be covered. Vermont didn’t identify a substantial state interest that is served by restricting the use of undefined terms by some, but not all, similarly-situated commercial speakers.
 
Even potential misleadingness didn’t show a substantial state interest.  (Note the tension with the Zauderer section, where the court pointed out that almost any interest is substantial if not trivial.) The Second Circuit has questioned whether there can ever be a substantial state interest in banning “potentially misleading” commercial speech: “If the protections afforded commercial speech are to retain their force, we cannot allow rote invocation of the words potentially misleading to supplant the State’s burden. Moreover, it is unclear what harm potentially misleading advertising creates, and the state bears the burden of proving that the harms it recites are real and that its restrictions will in fact alleviate them to a material degree.”  But that’s not about the substantiality of the interest, it’s about the other elements of Central Hudson, though I guess that’s just quibbling.
 
Unsurprisingly, Vermont failed to show that the “natural” restriction “directly and materially advances” that state interest and was “no more extensive than necessary to serve that interest.” Without a definition of “natural,” the law swept either too broadly or too narrowly. The addition of “any words of similar import” “essentially leaves GE manufacturers guessing regarding which advertising terms are prohibited.” Plus, the exemptions showed that Vermont would tolerate continued use of “natural” for some GE foods and beverages, without explaining why that use is ok. Finally, Vermont’s consumer protection statutes could address misleading use of “natural,” and the GE disclosure requirement could let consumers make up their own minds about whether a GE food product is “natural.”
 
“[R]estrictions on commercial speech to prevent consumer deception should be limited to those instances when actual deception is likely, or when a reasonable consumer would be deceived.”  Speculation or conjecture aren’t enough to satisfy the state’s burden. Here, whether the promised benefits materialized depended almost entirely on how “natural” was defined.  Thus, plaintiffs showed likely success on the merits of their claim against the “natural” restrictions.
 
Further, they showed likely success on the facial invalidity of Act 120’s restriction of the use of “any words of similar import.”  The law didn’t define that phrase, and the AG’s rule made the phrase surplusage by just repeating already-regulated words; that approach wasn’t supported by Vermont law.  Though the law required that “any words of similar import” have “a tendency to mislead a consumer,” that wasn’t enough because the law didn’t include a limitation to reasonable consumers, or to instances where the ad as a whole was misleading.  This contrasted with Vermont law generally, which used an objective reasonable consumer standard. (Why that can’t be implied is unclear.)  The Lanham Act cases on which Vermont relied were distinguishable, because they required proof of “extrinsic evidence [of consumer deception or confusion] to support a finding of an implicitly false message.” (Citing Tiffany (NJ) Inc. v. eBay Inc., 600 F.3d 93 (2d Cir. 2010).)  Thus, the void for vagueness challenge was likely to succeed, though the phrase was severable.
 
Preliminary injunction: the Second Circuit doesn’t presume irreparable harm in cases involving allegations of the abridgement of First Amendment rights unless “the challenged government action directly limited speech.” Where the effect on speech is only potential the plaintiff must show a causal link between the injunction and its alleged injury.  Plaintiffs’ arguments about irreparable harm were primarily directed to the burdens imposed by the GE disclosure requirements, which challenges were unlikely to succeed.  They identified few burdens of complying with the “natural” and “any words of similar import” bans—other than unspecific allegations, they provided no evidence of any member’s actual use of the “natural” terminology or “any words of similar import” in conjunction with a GE product. They thus couldn’t show irreparable harm. Nor had they been threatened with any enforcement action.
 
Likewise, plaintiffs didn’t identify any of their members who currently produce non-exempt GE products that are governed by either the FMIA or the PPIA. Given the AG’s rule’s exemption from Act 120 for any “[p]ackaged, processed food containing meat or poultry” subject to the FMIA and PPIA, “an enforcement action against these GE manufacturers appears unlikely.”
 
Without irreparable harm, there could be no preliminary injunction.

Eco-friendliness is functional; so is rustic look of burlap

Farmgirl Flowers, Inc. v. Bloom That, Inc., No. 14-CV-05657, 2015 WL 1939424 (N.D. Cal. Apr. 28, 2015)

Farmgirl, a San Francisco-based florist selling locally farmed arrangements, sought a preliminary injunction against competitor Bloom That prohibiting it from using burlap sack material, or anything confusingly similar in appearance, in connection with the sale of flowers. The court denied the motion on utilitarian and aesthetic functionality grounds. 
 
In 2010, Farmgirl began using a wrapping made out of recycled burlap sacks that were once used to hold coffee beans. Farmgirl argued that this wrapping had no utilitarian advantage t over traditional kraft paper or cellophane wrapping; in fact, there’s a paper underlayer because, Farmgirl argued, burlap “does not function as well as traditional cellophane or kraft paper wrapping.” Farmgirl’s revenues grew rapidly after it introduced the burlap wrap, and revenues for 2015 were expected to reach $2 million. Farmgirl claimed that customers and others in the industry associated it with its Coffee Sack Burlap Wrap, and that it received national media coverage featuring its trade dress.
 
Farmgirl Flowers
Bloom That is an online flower delivery service that delivers bouquets of flowers in 90 minutes or less. Bloom That launched in San Francisco and set up shop within one mile of Farmgirl’s headquarters and in Farmgirl’s primary sales territory. It initially sold bouquets that had been wrapped in recycled burlap donated by local coffee roasters, then began wrapping its bouquets in new, rather than recycled, burlap. Bloom That also claims to source locally-grown flowers for use in its bouquets and delivers its bouquets via bicycle courier. It first wraps the flowers with a material designed to hydrate the flowers during delivery, than an outer layer of burlap plus its own branding of an orange and white striped ribbon and a paper “luggage” tag fastened with a wooden clothes pin. Bloom that claimed to use burlap because the “hydration pack” was neither aesthetically pleasing nor was it sufficient to hold the flowers together.  
 
Bloom That flowers
Bloom contended that (1) burlap holds up to repeated wet and dry cycles without losing its shape, durability, or function; (2) burlap is less expensive (at $.50—$.65 per unit) than similarly durable fabrics such as canvas (at $5 per unit); (3) burlap is more environmentally friendly than petroleum-based products and burlap can also be reused; and (4) it provides the “curated look” that Bloom That’s customers find popular. The functional properties of burlap allegedly made it an ideal wrapping for bouquets delivered using a bicycle courier because of its moisture absorption and water-resilient capabilities. According to Bloom That, it now uses new burlap because the recycled burlap was inconsistent in appearance and texture and sometimes smelled of coffee or mildew.
 
In September 2013, Farmgirl applied to register “three-dimensional product packaging composed of a burlap material.”  It was approved for publication, and Bloom That has opposed. (And given B&B, presumably it would be bound by a PTO nonfunctionality finding if fully litigated at the PTO, absent this case.  The PTO issued a conditional functionality refusal based on the initial inclusion of the shape of the wrapper in the applied-for mark, but withdrew it once the drawing included dotted lines for the shape.)
 
Farmgirl burlap mark as applied for
Because the registration hadn’t issued, Farmgirl had the burden of showing nonfunctionality. Along with the arguments above, Bloom That identified a utility patent claiming wrapping flower bouquets with burlap, and argued that, while burlap may be comparable in costs to paper or cellophane wraps, a material of similar strength and durability (canvas) would cost up to ten times more per unit.
 
The court agreed that on the present record burlap appeared functional, considering particularly its utilitarian advantages and cost.  Farmgirl’s application was broad, claiming simply a burlap wrap for live flower arrangements.  Using a specific material in product packaging may be protectable trade dress, but Bloom That showed many examples of the utilitarian use of burlam in transporting agricultural products and Farmgirl’s alleged trade dress wasn’t restricted by color, size, or shape. The evidence showed that “burlap has been in use for more than 150 years, and is known for its strength, water resilience, and versatility.” These properties, combined with its low cost, led to its use as packaging for many commodities, such as coffee, and for the transportation of live plants. That suggested a utilitarian advantage for wrapping live floral arrangements. Similarly, Bloom That contended that burlap was superior for bicycle delivery, which may expose bouquets to water from exterior sources such as rain. An alternative fabric with similar water-resilient properties, such as canvas or hemp, would be more expensive. Farmgirl did not show that burlap didn’t yield utilitarian benefits when used to wrap bouquets for delivery.
 
Bloom That additionally argued that burlap’s environmental benefits over plastic supported a functionality finding.  Eco-friendliness may independently support a finding of functionality, especially where—as here—there was evidence that this feature was important to consumers—eco-friendliness was a benefit that consumers wished to purchase, which is one definition of a functional feature. Other materials may also be eco-friendly, but if burlap provides eco-friendliness than it is functional.  (Cf. Traffix—if it’s the reason the product works, no other alternatives need by tried.)
 
As for the burlap-wrapping patent, it was strong evidence of functionality.  Farmgirl didn’t meet its heavy burden of overcoming that evidence.  Though the patent listed materials other than burlap as being suitable for wrapping bouquets using its method, two dependent claims specifically limited the claimed invention to burlap. Plus, the suitability of other materials was relevant to whether alternative designs were available, not to whether burlap had utilitarian advantages. 
 
Independently, Farmgirl failed to carry its burden to show “that a burlap bouquet wrap likely does not result from a comparatively simple or inexpensive method of manufacture.”  Farmgirl’s use of burlap decreased its costs because it got its burlap free from local coffee roasters. Bloom That also showed that burlap was less expensive than fabrics of similar durability.  Effect on cost was strong evidence of functionality.
 
As for other factors in the functionality determination—advertising touting utilitarian advantages, and availability of alternative designs—these were neutral. The lack of ads touting burlap as functional was not relevant, and, since Farmgirl failed to show that the trade dress likely provided no utilitarian advantages, there was no need to speculate about other design possibilities.
 
Separately, Farmgirl failed to carry its burden of showing that its trade dress wasn’t aesthetically functional. According to Bloom That’s CEO, “[b]urlap is popular among Bloom That’s customers,” “[t]he appearance of a bouquet is one of the most important factors in its sale,” and burlap “provides a curated look.” Bloom That provided evidence that burlap began appearing as a trendy material in 2009 and was “commonly used to infuse a ‘rustic’ look in otherwise ordinary décor,” including examples of brides using burlap to wrap wedding bouquets.
 
While Farmgirl argued that using burlap served a source-identifying function for Farmgirl, Farmgirl failed to meet its burden of so showing.  (Compare to the PTO’s process, which allowed the application to proceed to publication on a 2(f) basis.)  “[T]he scope of trade dress protection sought by Farmgirl would foreclose any other florist from using burlap as a wrapping for a bouquet, even if the bouquet or burlap clearly identified the source of the bouquet by the use of the florist’s brand name or logo.”  Its alleged trade dress wasn’t limited in color, shape, or size, even though its recycled burlap still bore the mark of the original coffee roaster.  “Farmgirl has failed to carry its burden to establish that the consumer would associate any use of burlap as a wrapping material for a bouquet of flowers with a single florist, rather than improving the appeal of the bouquet.”  Bloom That showed that “one of the essential selling features of a flower bouquet, if indeed not the primary feature, is its aesthetic appearance,” and that a burlap wrap for floral arrangements was aesthetically pleasing.