New APPS: Art, Politics, Philosophy, Science

Privacy and “Injury in Fact,” Part 5: Early State cases

I’ve been indirectly pursuing the question of the problems faced by privacy plaintiffs in data cases by looking at the origins of the Supreme Court’s standing doctrine.  Basically, plaintiffs have to show an “injury in fact,” and courts often find privacy harms not to meet this standard.  Although presented as dating from time immemorial, the injury in fact requirement was actually announced rather abruptly in 1970 (all of this is part 1).  I’ve been exploring the historical antecedents that will help understand what that language implies – in a very early Supreme Court case (part 2), in other federal case law (part 3), and in federal cases about the Administrative Procedure Act (part 4).  Here I want to extend the genealogy into some early state cases; I’ll draw a somewhat arbitrary cutoff at 1930.  This time I’ll look at a general potpourri of cases. Next time I want to specifically look at a few libel cases because the language is especially clear in them.  I don’t claim this to be exhaustive (and I’m ignoring some of the cases around trusts and deeds because the facts in them are often very confusing, but I think it collectively paints a pretty good picture of what “injury in fact” connoted in Data Processing.

On the whole, the cases point to the legal vs non-legal harm distinction I’ve been developing, As the New Jersey Supreme Court used the concept in an estate case, “there was no injury, in fact or in contemplation of law, to prevent in this case the merger” of the estates (Den ex dem. Wills v. Cooper, 25 N.J.L. 137, 159 (1855).

AI is (still) not a (copyright) Author: The Thaler appellate decision

The Federal Circuit has affirmed the denial of copyright protection to an AI-generated image on the grounds that copyright requires a human author.  As far as I know this was the expected outcome; I certainly think it’s correct.  I talked about the case a bit and made a couple of policy arguments against AI copyright here, when the lower-court ruling came out.

The appellate decision lists several reasons AI cannot be an author: (1) copyright authorship is premised on the capacity to hold property, which AI cannot; (2) copyright duration is tied to the author’s lifespan; (3) copyright includes inheritance conditions, and machines don’t have heirs; (4) Copyright transfer requires a signature, but “machines lack signatures, as well as the legal capacity to provide an authenticating signature;” (5) authors are protected regardless of their “nationality or domicile,” but machines have neither; (6) authors have intentions whereas “Machines lack minds and do not intend anything;” (7) when the copyright act does talk about machines, it always talks about them as tools.

As the court summarizes:

“All of these statutory provisions collectively identify an “author” as a human being. Machines do not have property, traditional human lifespans, family members, domiciles, nationalities, mentes reae, or signatures. By contrast, reading the Copyright Act to require human authorship comports with the statute’s text, structure, and design because humans have all the attributes the Copyright Act treats authors as possessing. The human-authorship requirement, in short, eliminates the need to pound a square peg into a textual round hole by attributing unprecedented and mismatched meanings to common words in the Copyright Act.” (12)

The Prisoner’s Dilemma of AI Cooperation

In a recent piece on Lawfare, Simon Goldstein and Peter N. Salib make the case that AI with cooperation is better than attempting some sort of AI race, unlike what virtually all of the relevant policymakers in the US advocate.  Thus, in response to the Chinese DeepSeek model, US policymakers are doubling down on the idea that the US must “dominate” AI and win against its geopolitical rival.  Goldstein and Salib write:

“In any high-stakes competition to obtain powerful military technology, the closer the game, the more sense it makes to declare a truce and cooperate. Cooperation can help to ensure that both superpowers obtain transformative AI around the same time. This preserves the current balance of power, rather than unsettling it and inviting extreme downside risks for both nations.”

Privacy and “Injury in Fact,” Part 4: Administrative Procedure Act Cases

Here I want to complete my review of federal legal precedents for the Supreme Court’s sudden invocation of “injury in fact” language to understand judicial standing in its 1970 Data Processing decision (recall the earlier installments: first, second, third. The first one explains the issue; if you want to escape my rummaging through the archive, you can skip to this one).  Congress passed the Administrative Procedure Act in 1946 to, well, regulate administrative procedures and provide checks against their being arbitrary (this is one of the Acts that virtually of Trumps recent executive orders violates).  Litigation about agency actions after the APA thus had to route through the APA, which imposed its own standards for judicial review of agency actions.

Here, the language of the lower courts gets very close to the issues in Data Processing.  Consider first Curran v. Laird, in which a maritime union sought enforcement of the Cargo Preference Act, which required that American ships be used for military cargo.  After awarding standing, the DC Cicruit concluded that the decision was a matter for agency discretion under the APA, ruling in favor of the government on the merits.  The Court opens its standing discussion by noting that “plainly [plaintiffs are] aggrieved in fact by the allegedly unlawful action of the Secretary of Defense.” The Court then writes that: