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William Fisher, CopyrightX: Lecture 1.4, The Foundations of Copyright Law: Multilateral Treaties

February 15, 2020


This is the final segment of
the first lecture in a series of lectures on copyright. In this segment, I’ll
examine the system of multilateral
treaties that bind most countries in the world. A WORD OF WARNING: This
material is intricate. You are unlikely to retain
all of it right now. Several times
during the remainder of this lecture series we
will return to these themes. By the end of the series,
you should feel comfortable with this important
dimension of copyright law. Each country in the world
creates, interprets, and enforces its
own copyright laws. With minor exceptions that
we’ll consider in a minute, the force of those
laws reach no further than the country’s borders. To put the same point
a bit more formally, copyright law has no
extraterritorial application. It controls conduct only so
far as the nation’s edge. Suppose, to illustrate, that
I’m an American musician. I write and record a song
in the United States. You’re a French musician, in
the United States on vacation. You hear the song
broadcast on the radio. You like it. You return home. Without my permission, you
make your own recording of the song in France
and sell copies of that recording in France. Or you perform the song in
a public venue in France. US copyright law will
not reach your behavior, because none of the
acts that might violate my exclusive rights under US
law occur in the United States. French copyright law might,
because the acts at issue occurred in France,
but only if French law shields US composers, like me. In any event, US copyright law
won’t apply to your behavior, because it has no grip
outside US territory. As I mentioned earlier, there
are some minor exceptions to this principle — a few
of them noted on your screen. –The so-called
“predicate act” doctrine enables US copyright
law to reach acts commenced in the US that
are completed outside the US. –When a defendant engages
in infringing behavior in the US, that enables him to
earn profits outside the US, courts will permit
the copyright owner to recover those
profits in US courts. –For a while, some
courts took the position that if a defendant
in the United States “authorized” behavior
outside the US, he would violate US copyright
law if the behavior at issue would have been unlawful
if it happened here. The Court of Appeals
for the Ninth Circuit reconsidered this issue in a
case involving the distribution outside the US of videocassettes
of the classic Beatles movie, “Yellow Submarine.” The outcome of the case
is that the court rejected its earlier position,
finding authorization of extraterritorial behavior
insufficient to trigger a violation of US law. There has been some
grumbling about this stance among lower courts in other
circuits, but for the most part the judgment of the Ninth
Circuit seems to have held up. Troublesome edge
cases of this sort are likely to multiply
in the future, as technology blurs
national boundaries. For example, which
country’s laws apply when a radio or
television broadcast containing copyrighted material
originates in country #1 but is then received and watched
by viewers in country #2? A pair of judicial decisions
in the United States take the position that such acts are
governed by the law of country #2 — and thus that a Canadian
broadcast received by US viewers is subject to US law. The Internet will surely
generate many more worrisome problems of this sort. But the presence of these
difficult edge cases should not cause
you to lose sight of the basic,
fundamental principle: each country adopts
its own copyright laws, and those laws only apply
to acts in that country. When a country develops
its own copyright law, may it discriminate in favor of
its own citizens or residents? In other words, may it
disfavor foreign authors? For a long time,
the answer was yes. Indeed, until the
late 19th century, it was common for countries
to deny copyright protection altogether to foreign authors. For example until 1891,
works by foreign authors first published outside United
States received no copyright protection at all in
the United States. Foreign authors (most
famously, Charles Dickens) and some US authors
denounced this practice and sought reform of US
copyright law, but to no avail. What underlay this practice? What would prompt a country,
like the United States, to discriminate against
foreign authors? Several forces seem
to have been at work. Simple nationalism is
part of the explanation. A more complex explanation
is that copyright protection is often thought of
as a tax on consumers. By granting an author
exclusive rights, copyright law enables the author
to raise the price of copies of his or her work — or to
charge more for admission to performances
of those works — thereby forcing consumers
to pay more for those copies or performances. The rationale of that
price increase, of course, is to provide a reward or
incentive for creativity — a rationale that we will
examine in much more detail in subsequent lectures. For present purposes,
the crucial point is that copyright protection
causes price increases. Historically, many nations
were reluctant to force their own residents
to pay those increased prices if the monies
raised thereby were to be paid to authors
in other countries, even (or especially) if
the result would be to stimulate creativity
in those other countries. Attitudes of these
sorts help to explain the origins of the
practice of discriminating against foreigners. Perpetuation of that
practice, however, is probably better explained
by interest-group politics. For example, as Bill
Patry has shown, in the United States
during the 19th century, many businesses came
to depend financially upon their privilege
to print and distribute inexpensive copies
of British books. Such businesses included
publishers, printers, and bookbinders. Not surprisingly, when
legislative proposals to end the discrimination
against foreign authors arose, the interest groups that would
have been hurt by the change lobbied against it. They were successful until 1891. Indeed, when the law
was eventually changed, the publishers and
printers were able to secure an important
qualification: copyright protection
was extended to nonresident foreign
authors (more specifically, to foreign authors
from countries offering similar protection
to US authors), but only if copies
of their works were manufactured in
the United States. This protectionist measure,
known as the “manufacturing clause,” was
eliminated with respect to foreign authors in 1955
and eliminated for US authors in 1986. Its significance in the present
context is that it illustrates the ways in which the financial
interests of an industry often congeal around a particular
set of copyright laws — and then retard any
modification of those laws. We’ll see several other
examples of that dynamic later in these lectures. Let’s return to the main
theme: As we have seen, one byproduct of the principle
that copyright protection is nation-specific and has no
extraterritorial application is that countries could, and for
a long time did, discriminate against foreign authors. Another important byproduct
is that, historically, copyright laws in
different countries differed dramatically. Here’s an illustration to which
we’ll return frequently in this course: Countries in continental
Europe have long accorded generous protection to what is
referred to as “droit moral” — loosely translated in
English as “moral rights.” These are said to be
noneconomic rights; they shield the personal
or personhood interests of authors and artists,
rather than their interests in making money. For example, moral rights forbid
the purchaser of a painting from defacing it or obscuring
the identity of the artist who painted it. Such acts might not damage
the artist financially, but they threaten the
bond between the artist and her creations. By contrast, countries whose
legal systems were primarily influenced by Great Britain
have long been more skeptical of these moral rights. Such countries include the
United States, Australia, New Zealand, and so forth. The upshot is that the existence
or force of moral rights traditionally varied
sharply across the world. The more general point
is that, historically, the entitlements enjoyed
by authors and artists were quite different
in different countries. That’s where things stood
in the late 19th century: widespread discrimination
against foreign authors, and wide divergences among the
laws in different countries. There then began a
long process, which continues to the present
day, of convergence of national copyright laws. Convergence has encompassed
3 intertwined trends: 1st the elimination
of discrimination against foreigners. 2nd the mitigation of
variations across countries — exemplified by the reduction in
the divergence among countries concerning the meaning
of originality, discussed earlier
in this lecture And 3rd, a steady increase
in the scope, strength, and duration of copyright
protection in all countries. These are important,
so I’ll repeat: 1st the elimination
of discrimination against foreigners. 2nd the reduction of
variations across countries. And 3rd, an increase in the
scope, strength, and duration of copyright protection. There’s no logical link
between those three dimensions. For example, you could imagine
harmonization having been achieved through universal
adoption of the least common denominator — the laws of
the least protective country. In other words, we could
have seen a leveling down, rather than a leveling up. How and why the three
trends nevertheless have been linked
historically is one of the major issues in the
legal history of copyright. I hope, by the end
of these lectures, you’ll have a better sense
of the possible answers. The primary vehicles of this
process of convergence were a series of multilateral
agreements — treaties or analogous
deals among many countries. Since the late
19th century, there have been seven major
multilateral agreements implicating copyright law. They are listed on the
map in front of you: –the Berne Convention; –the Universal
Copyright Convention; –the International
Convention For the Protection of Performers, Producers of
Phonograms and Broadcasting Organizations, commonly
known as the Rome Convention; –the “Agreement on
Trade-Related Aspects of Intellectual
Property Rights,” commonly known
(confusingly) as TRIPS; –the 1996 treaty adopted
under the auspices of the World Intellectual Property
Organization, commonly known as
WIPO Copyright Treaty; –the contemporaneous WIPO
Performances and Phonograms Treaty; –and the recently
concluded Marrakesh Treaty for the Visually Impaired. All of these
agreements are complex. I’m not going to attempt
here to walk you through all of their various provisions. Instead, in this
lecture, I will identify the most important general
themes of these agreements. In subsequent lectures, when
addressing specific sets of legal rules that have
been shaped or constrained by these treaties, we will
return to the relevant treaty provisions. The two most
important agreements are the Berne Convention
and the TRIPS agreement, so we will spend most
of our time on those. The Berne Convention
is the grandparent of these multilateral
agreements. It was the first to be adopted. The negotiations that resulted
in the Berne Convention began in 1858 and finally
culminated in 1886, with the adoption
by 10 countries of the original version
of the convention. Since then it’s been
revised 7 times. If you click on the icon
associated with the “History” subtopic in the map, you’ll find
a series of slides that provide details concerning the evolution
of the Berne Convention — when different
provisions were added, and how many countries
signed on to each version. Today (meaning, as
of January 2016), the Convention has been
joined by 168 countries, extending its reach
over most of the world. Here’s a map showing
its coverage. Three dimensions of the current
version of the Berne Convention are crucial: The first is the so-called
national-treatment principle. Prior to the Berne
Convention, some countries had been chipping away at
the widespread practice of discrimination
against foreign authors through adoption in
bilateral treaties of the so-called
reciprocity principle. As its name suggests,
the reciprocity principle depends upon two or
more countries each extending rights to the
residents of the other(s). Country number #1 agrees to
grant copyright protection to the residents of Country
number #2 if and only if Country #2 grants
copyright protection to the residents of Country #1. The Berne Convention
— and, as we will see, all subsequent
multilateral agreements — repudiate the reciprocity
principle in favor of the simpler and more powerful
national-treatment principle. The key idea in
national treatment is that country #1 must grant
to the residents of country #2 the same rights it grants to
country #1’s own residents. To illustrate,
today French authors are given the same rights
in the United States as are given to US
authors, and US authors are given the same
rights in France as are given to French authors. The application of this
principle in the Berne Convention is actually
somewhat more encompassing than I have thus far suggested. As the map indicates,
the Berne Convention requires each signatory country
to grant to “protected authors” the same rights it
accords its own nationals. If you follow the
links in the map, you will see that the
term “protected authors” is capacious. The net effect is to
require all member countries to extend the benefits of their
copyright laws quite broadly. In one respect,
however, the application of the national-treatment
principle in the Berne Convention is less encompassing
than I have thus far suggested. Specifically, the
Berne Convention does not apply to what are
called “neighboring rights.” This is the term used
in many countries to describe the legal rights
of performers and producers. They are said to be “neighboring
rights,” because they are adjacent to copyrights
but not true copyrights. Such neighboring
rights are governed, not by the Berne Convention,
but by the Rome convention. The geographic coverage
of the Rome convention is substantially smaller
than that of Berne. As of today, 91
countries have joined. Among the major countries
not participating is the United States. We will return later in this
series of lectures to the ways that the Rome convention
affects the definition and scope of rights
of public performance. For present purposes, the
crucial point is that members of the Rome convention are
permitted to discriminate against the residents of
nonmember countries — including US nationals. And they do. Here’s an example:
France imposes a levy on sales of blank tapes. The money raised to that levy
is distributed as follows: 25% is devoted to French
cultural purposes; 25% is paid to the composers
of the musical compositions recorded on those
tapes; 25% goes to the performers
of the recordings of the songs recorded
on the tapes; and 25% goes to the producers
of those recordings. US composers get a
share of the 2nd slice, because musical compositions
are governed by the Berne Convention, and thus
France may not discriminate against US authors. By contrast, US
performers and producers are excluded from the
3rd and 4th slices, because their interests are
not governed by the Berne Convention. So, to review, the first
key dimension of the Berne Convention is
national treatment — the principle that each
member country must extend to the residents of other member
countries the same rights it extends to its own residents. The 2nd of the 3
major dimensions of the current version
of the Berne Convention is the prohibition
on formalities. As the map indicates,
the key idea here is that member
countries may not impose upon protected authors
any administrative obligations that they have to satisfy in
order to acquire, enforce, or maintain their copyrights. Curiously, member countries
may impose such obligations on their own nationals — and
occasionally they do so — but as one might imagine,
discrimination against one’s own citizens is rare. This prohibition on formalities
creates a sharp contrast between copyright
law and patent law. Roughly speaking,
while copyright law protects works of authorship,
patent law protects inventions. To obtain a patent,
an inventor must comply with myriad
administrative requirements. Typically, he or she
must apply for a patent within a limited period of
time, and must demonstrate to the satisfaction
of a patent examiner that his or her invention is
useful, novel, and nonobvious. Most patent applicants
eventually succeed, but not all. And compliance with these
requirements is costly. Copyright law, in the
overwhelming number of countries that adhere
to the Berne Convention, is radically different. In those countries, there are
no administrative preconditions to the acquisition or
enforcement of copyright. So, for example, if you
happen to be taking notes while watching this lecture,
and (as we discussed previously) your notes contain a bare
minimum of creativity, then you have acquired a
copyright in your notes. Similarly, if you take a
snapshot of your family, and that photograph
is minimally creative, then you acquire a
copyright in the photograph. No formal grant, no governmental
imprimatur is necessary. Historically, what underlay
this hostility to formalities? The traditional explanation
is that the countries most influential in the
shaping of the Berne Convention subscribed to the so-called
“natural rights” theory of copyright. If an author’s control
over his or her creations is a natural right,
then the interposition of governmental formalities
would seem unacceptable. Professor Chris Sprigman, who
has written most insightfully about this issue,
persuasively argues that this traditional
explanation is unconvincing. It’s more likely
that the drafters of the Berne
Convention provisions pertaining to
formalities believed that disparate
administrative requirements in different countries
would frustrate authors’ ability in practice
to secure global protection for their works. Whatever the reason, the
current draft of the Convention is firmly set
against formalities. This issue might seem
technical and unimportant, but for two reasons it’s not. First, lawmakers
in some countries have long been hostile to the
Berne Convention’s prohibition on formalities. The premier example
is the United States, which, as we will see, retained
many formal requirements for copyright protection until
late in the 20th century. Reluctance to surrender
those requirements helps to explain why the United
States did not join the Berne Convention until 1989. The second reason is that
an unexpected byproduct of the absence of formalities is
that our social environment is increasingly clogged
with billions of modestly creative
cultural products over which someone enjoys
copyright protection, but persons who wish to
make use of those products have no effective
way of ascertaining the identity of the owners
of those copyrights. Copyrights, as you will
soon see, are everywhere, but identifying the
persons to whom they belong is often infeasible. As a result, some
scholars and lawmakers advocate the reinstatement
of formal requirements for copyright protection. The result would be
to reduce sharply the number of copyrighted
works and thus the density of the legal soup
through which we daily move. The principal impediment
to such a reform is the Berne Convention. The 3rd of the three main
dimensions of the Berne Convention consists of a
set of obligations, imposed on all member countries,
to establish minimum levels of copyright protection. For example, member
countries must extend copyright protection
to certain kinds of works, must grant the
authors of those works specific exclusive rights, must allow those rights
to continue for specified periods of time, and so forth. The details of those
minimum standards will be examined in
subsequent lectures. For present purposes,
the main point is that, although the
Berne Convention has lots of such requirements, it
contains no effective mechanism for punishing member
countries when they fail to comply with
their duties in this regard. As a result, countries that
want the benefits of the Berne Convention, but don’t want
to comply with all of its obligations, are free as a
practical matter to join up — and then delay or refuse to
comply with the provisions that they find unattractive. The United States
between 1989 and 1994 definitely fell
into this category. The posture of the United
States changed substantially with the adoption of
the TRIPS agreement. The history of the negotiations
that resulted in the TRIPS agreement is intricate — much
too intricate to be explored here. If you’re curious,
the chronology is reviewed in the
series of slides that can be accessed
through the link associated with subtopic “origins.” Today, the geographic coverage
of the TRIPS agreement rivals that of the
Berne Convention. All member countries of the
World Trade Organization — as of January 2016,
162 nations — are subject to the agreement. In important respects,
the TRIPS agreement parallels the Berne Convention. Like Berne, TRIPS
adheres to the principle of national treatment. Also like Berne, TRIPS
imposes on member countries the obligation to establish
certain minimum levels of copyright protection. As the map indicates, these
obligations pertain to: — the kinds of works that are
subject to copyright protection (including, for example,
computer software); –the entitlements that
copyright owners must be given; –the duration of
copyrights and so forth. We will return to the
details under these headings in subsequent lectures. That said, TRIPS differs
from the Berne Convention in three major respects. First, it imposes upon
member countries obligations, not merely to
establish legal rights, but also to establish
effective remedies when those rights are violated. Some of those remedies
— for example, pertaining to the availability
of preliminary injunctions — were more expansive than some
member countries had previously adopted and so required
the adoption of new laws. Second, the TRIPS
agreement, because it is part of the General
Agreement on Tariffs and Trade, has (unlike the
Berne Convention) a mechanism for compelling
member countries to comply with
their obligations. Specifically, the GATT contains
a dispute-resolution procedure that enables a member
country to initiate a complaint against
another member country that has failed to live up
to its TRIPS obligations. Details concerning the
handling of such disputes can be found by pursuing
the links in the map. The principal penalty imposed
upon a country found to have failed to comply with its
obligations under the agreement is so-called
“cross-sectoral” retaliation. In other words, the
complaining country is permitted to impose trade
sanctions on other goods. This process is
far from perfect, but it does have teeth. The third of the three
respects in which the TRIPS agreement deviates from Berne
is related to those teeth. As you can see from the
map, the TRIPS agreement incorporates by reference all
of the obligations imposed on member countries by the
Berne Convention except one: article 6bis. What’s that? That article, it turns
out, is the provision of the Berne convention
that covers moral rights. Recall that moral
rights have a lower status in common-law countries
than in civil-law countries. The result of the
exclusion of article 6bis is that countries such
as the United States, reluctant to adhere fully
to the Berne Convention obligations with
respect to moral rights, are still able to give them
short shrift without running the gauntlet of WTO
dispute-resolution proceedings. The TRIPS Agreement is the
most controversial aspect of copyright law — and indeed,
of the law of intellectual property as a whole. Debate concerning the merits
and demerits of TRIPs — and, in particular, whether it’s
been good or bad for developing countries — has been intense
since the agreement was first adopted. If you follow the link
associated with the subtopic, “Merits and Demerits,” you
will find a few slides, summarizing the principal
contending positions on this issue. Later in this lecture series,
once we have on the table more information concerning
the actual impact of TRIPS, we’ll return to this
fundamental issue. We come next to
two 1996 treaties, both of them negotiated
and administered by the World Intellectual
Property Organization. They have almost identical
geographic coverage; currently, 93 and 94
countries respectively. The first requires member
countries to expand somewhat the rights of
authors; the second requires member countries to
expand the rights of performers and producers. The most novel and
important provision in both of these treaties
is the obligation imposed on member
countries to reinforce technological
protection measures. Specifically, both
require member countries to penalize in some way the
circumvention of encryption systems or the removal
of information contained in copies of copyrighted works
that identify the copyright owners. A major branch of
copyright law has grown out of these treaty provisions. We will consider that
branch in lecture #11. The most recent of the
seven multilateral treaties is the Marrakesh
Treaty on Exceptions for the Visually Impaired,
which was wrapped up in Morocco in July of 2013. There are over 300 million
visually impaired people in the world. Their ability to gain access to
copyrighted material in formats that they can
apprehend has long been curtailed by the
combination of copyright law and the reluctance
of copyright owners to grant permission for the
creation of digital versions of their works that, if
they escaped into the wild, could corrode their
primary markets. The Marrakesh Treaty attempts
to overcome that impediment by requiring member
countries to adopt laws that permit the reproduction
and distribution of published works in formats accessible
to the visually impaired and then to permit
organizations that serve the visually impaired
to take them from one country into another. The hope is that this new
regime will eventually result in the standardization
of accessible formats — thus increasing the set of
materials available everywhere and saving money. The Marrakesh Treaty
is unique among the 7 multilateral agreements
in one important respect: it’s the only one that requires
member countries to limit the scope of copyright,
rather than requiring member countries to create
minimum levels of protection. Overlaid on the pattern
of obligations created by these multilateral agreements
are a few regional agreements, which further constrain the
freedom of member countries to shape their national
copyright systems. The most prominent of the
regional organizations that generate such agreements
is the European Union. Several EU directives
listed in the map oblige countries
within the Union to manage their copyright
systems in particular ways. Less well known is the
African Intellectual Property Organization (commonly
known as OAPI), the members of which are
subject to similar obligations. We’ll take up the details
of these regional directives later. The framework created
by this welter of multilateral and regional
agreements is not stable. On the contrary, countries
— and major interest groups within countries —
struggle constantly to tilt the framework in their favor. Sometimes the struggle
involves interpretation of existing provisions. One of the most important
of those provisions is known as the three-step test. This is not a separate treaty. It’s rather a recurring
principle, variants of which can be found
in most of the treaties we’ve already reviewed. These variants are not
identical, but they’re similar. Shown on the screen
is the version contained in the Berne
Convention-specifically in article 9(2)
of the Convention. I’ve inserted, in
brackets, letters that divide the so-called 3 steps. With those insertions,
the provision reads: “It shall be a matter
for legislation in the countries of
the Union, to permit the reproduction of such works
a in certain special cases, provided that such
reproduction does not conflict with a normal
exploitation of the work and does not
unreasonably prejudice the legitimate interests
of the author.” The TRIPS Agreement contains
a similar provision — although note that
the TRIPS version, unlike the Berne version,
applies to all “exclusive rights” enjoyed by
copyright owners, not merely to the
right of reproduction. Analogous provisions can
be found in other treaties. What’s going on here? What these provisions
are designed to curb is the impulse of some
countries to limit the scope of copyrights
by granting exceptions or privileges to users who
wish to employ copyrighted works in ways that would
otherwise be illegal. The basic idea underlying
the three-step test is that such exceptions
may not cut too deeply into the rights of owners. But how deep is too deep? The language of the
treaty provisions is notoriously vague
on that crucial point. As a result many
different interpretations of the so-called three-step
test have proliferated. Some are quite strict. If widely adopted, they would
require the United States, for example, to abandon or at
least to curtail significantly its fair-use doctrine — which
we will consider in detail in lecture #9. Others are substantially
more permissive. An intermediate position on the
spectrum of interpretations, which has much to recommend
it, is the interpretation offered by Professors
Berndt Hugenholtz and Ruth Okediji, set forth on the map: “Limitations and exceptions that
(1) are not overly broad, (2) do not rob right holders of
a real or potential source of income that is
substantive, and (3) do not do disproportional
harm to the right holders, will pass the test.” The debate concerning the
meaning of the three-step test will likely continue
for quite a while. Another source of instability in
the International Framework is that countries — often
nudged by interest groups — are constantly attempting to
supplement the treaties we have considered with additional
bilateral or plurilateral agreements. Three ongoing efforts of this
sort are listed in the map. The AntiCounterfeiting
Trade Agreement — commonly known as ACTA — has
been under negotiation since 2006. It differs from
all of the treaties we’ve considered thus far,
both in the small number of countries that were
involved in the negotiations, and even more
importantly in the fact that those negotiations were
conducted largely in secret. Despite considerable resistance
to that secrecy and to some of the substantive
provisions that emerged from the negotiations, ACTA
looked well on its way toward ratification and adoption
until July of 2012, when the European Parliament,
responding in part to growing public outcry, balked
— refusing its consent to the agreement by
a vote of 478 to 39, with 165 abstentions. It is now unlikely that ACTA
will ever enter into force. Next in line is the
Trans-Pacific Partnership Agreement or TPP. This too was negotiated
by a small group of countries (shown
on your screen) in a series of
confidential meetings. The final draft was released to
the public in November of 2015. The legislatures of the
participating countries ??? including Congress in
the United States — are currently considering
whether to approve the agreement. The outcome of
their deliberations is far from certain. If it is approved by the
requisite number of countries and enters into
force, the TPP will lead to some medium-sized
changes in the global copyright system. Copyright law in the US
will change very little. However, some of the other
participating countries (and countries that
later join the group) will have to adjust their laws. Three such adjustments are
particularly significant. First, roughly half of the
participating countries will be obliged to increase the duration
of copyright protection — from the life of the author 50
years to the life of the author 70 years. Second, some countries
will be obliged to enhance their
prohibitions on circumvention of technological
protection measures. Finally, some may be obliged
to adopt or modify statutory provisions permitting successful
plaintiffs to recover so-called statutory damages — although
their duties in this regard are less severe than they would
have been if the original draft of the TPP had survived. Whether these three
changes are good or bad, we will consider in Lectures
6, 11, and 12 respectively. More modest in ambition
and thus less controversial is the Beijing Treaty on
Audiovisual Performances, which, if it comes
into effect, will expand the moral
rights of actors and other audiovisual
performers. We will discuss those
rights in lecture #8. The general point is that,
while the broad contours of the International
Framework are firmly in place, many important details
are in continued flux. Typically, the representatives
of major institutional holders of copyrights and other
intellectual property rights push for treaty
provisions that require member countries to increase
the scope of their rights, while public-interest
organizations play defense, resisting reform. With the exception of
the Marrakesh Treaty, the public-interest
organizations rarely offer treaty
provisions of their own. This concludes our
preliminary review of the structure of the
international framework of copyright law. To repeat, my ambition in
this section of the lecture has not been to itemize all of
the features of that framework. That would be impossible
in a single lecture — or even an entire
course for that matter. Rather my goal has been
to convey to you the key principles and trends —
and to mark the locations of the treaty provisions to
which we will return when examining specific
features of copyright law. Next week, we will focus, not
on copyright law, but on theory. We will begin our examination
of the questions: What concerns or values underlie copyright? And how might copyright
law be reshaped to advance those concerns
or values more effectively? Thank you.

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