A collection of books. A little time. A lot of learning.
Kimberly Farmer, Unsplash

We’re proud to share that Seyfarth associate J.C. Heinbockel has contributed to the Fifth Edition of the American Bar Association’s A Legal Strategist’s Guide to Trademark Trial and Appeal Board Practice.

J.C. authored the chapter “Strategic Considerations for TTAB-Contested Proceedings: A TTAB Proceeding versus a Court Action,” offering practical insights for trademark practitioners weighing the distinctions between TTAB litigation and federal court actions. His contribution provides valuable guidance for those navigating the complexities of trademark disputes and evaluating the best path forward for their clients.

The full guide is now available through the ABA.

I was driving to work with the music on shuffle.  The next song came on and from the drums alone, I knew what it was — First Date by Blink-182.  As a drummer and pop-punk aficionado, the snare drum and crash cymbal on all four beats followed by blistering sixteenth notes across the toms were easily recognizable as the playing of Travis Barker.  But something sounded off.  

            The tempo felt a little slower and the tone of the drums sounded different.  It was a song and band I never heard before.  Turned out to be a great tune.  But I couldn’t shake the near identity of the approximately five second drum intro. 

            Numerous drummers have graced us with instantly recognizable drum parts.  John Bonham’s intro groove on Rock and Roll, Jeff Porcaro’s “Rosanna Shuffle” on Rosanna, and Dave Grohl’s thunderous fill before the whole band kicks in on Smells Like Teen Spirit.  Can you hear them?  These are just some examples, and the list (and I) could go on, and on, and on … But let’s get back to the drum part at hand. 

Did Barker play on the track?  Or perhaps he had something to do with the production of the song?  Neither is true.  So, what if anything can Barker do about it?

Copyright

            Copyright protects works of authorship that are fixed in a tangible medium.  That could apply to a drummer’s performance on an entire track or the written notation of the same.  But copyright generally does not extend to short phrases.  So, it is unlikely that a two-measure drum part, despite its complexity, may be protected by copyright.  Additionally, the drum part at issue was played by a different drummer on a new recording. Therefore, a claim of sampling, i.e., reusing an existing sound recording in another recording, would unlikely apply.  

However, there may be some alternatives. 

Trademark

            Trademarks are used to indicate the source of goods or services.  A term or a phrase are commonly used as trademarks.  But there are several non-traditional trademarks, including sounds. 

            The notes G, E, and C played in succession on chimes indicates a certain national broadcast station.  A lion’s roar tells you that you’re about to watch a movie from a certain studio.  A particular musician from the 305 uses the signature “man yelling “EEEEEEEYOOOOOO” in falsetto with “E” drawn out followed by a “U” sound” to indicate live musical performances.

All of those marks are registered with the USPTO.  If those short “musical” phrases can function as trademarks, why can’t Barker’s intro on First Date?  

            While this may be a possibility, it could be somewhat of an uphill battle.  Sounds that are commonly used in connection with certain goods or services may not function as trademarks.  This is because consumers would not associate the sound with a particular source.  So, a drum part for musical performances would have to be fairly distinctive to function as a trademark.  However, that same drum part may not be commonly used in connection with other offerings, e.g., personal appearances by a celebrity, clothing, or perhaps drumsticks.  Depending on how Barker’s drum part is used, it could serve to indicate the source of certain goods or services, even musical performances.  That could prevent third parties from using the same or similar drum part, in certain circumstances. 

            Those familiar with Barker’s playing may associate certain beats, fills, and grooves with him.  But can a drummer’s playing be so closely associated with them that it becomes part of their persona? 

Rights of Publicity

            Rights of publicity generally protect a person’s identity in commercial settings and vary by state.  Perhaps because of the glitz and glamor of Hollywood, California appears to have a somewhat broad right of publicity.  California Civil Code Section 3344 states:

“Any person who knowingly uses another’s name, voice, signature, photograph, or likeness, in any manner on or in products, merchandise, or goods, or for purposes of advertising or selling … goods or services, without such person’s consent … shall be liable for any damages sustained by the person” (emphasis added).

            It’s pretty clear that Barker’s name, voice, and signature, were not used in the song at issue.  However, what does a “likeness” mean within the statute?  The Ninth Circuit has noted that under the statute, likeness refers to a visual image and not an imitation of sound.  Midler v. Ford Motor Co., 849 F.2d 460, 463 (9th Cir. 1988). 

            Because Barker’s visual image was not used in the song, a right of publicity claim based on Civil Code Section 3344 may fail.  However, subsection (g) of Section 3344 states that the remedies provided are cumulative and shall be in addition to any others provided at law.  Therefore, if a “likeness” has a broader scope at common law the drum part may give rise to a colorable claim. 

            Some courts have found that common law rights in a “likeness” are not confined to a visual image.  The Midler court held that imitation of a professional singer’s voice may be sufficient to state a claim of violation of one’s rights of publicity.  In Motschenbacher v. R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Co., the court held that use of an image featuring the plaintiff’s car without the plaintiff being identifiable was sufficient for plaintiff’s right of publicity claim to reach a jury.  498 F.2d 821 (9th Cir. 1974).  Further, unauthorized use of Johnny Carson’s “Here’s Johnny” catchphrase to sell portable toilets was actionable based on common law rights.  Carson v. Here’s Johnny Portable Toilets, Inc., 698 F.2d 831 (6th Cir. 1983).  

            The names, voices, and likenesses of the plaintiffs in those cases were not used.  Here, only Barker’s drum part was used.  But is the part in First Date so associated with Barker that it’s encompassed within his rights of publicity? 

The answer may vary depending on who you ask.  For drummers and certain millennials, the answer is likely a resounding yes.  However, non-musicians and other generations may not make such an association. 

Conclusion

It’s unclear what Barker may think about all of this and what, if anything, he would do about it.  Because imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, Barker could interpret use of an identical drum part in another song as an homage.  Interestingly, his bandmate, Mark Hoppus, appreciated that a band included his name in the title of a song, Featuring Mark Hoppus, although he had nothing to do with the track. 

Limited intellectual property protection may be available for drum parts.  And in some instances, it may be appropriate to attempt to protect a drum part to prevent others from associating that part with another drummer, band, or commercial offering.  But that doesn’t mean that us drummers should stop creating, writing, and performing interesting grooves.  Just keep in mind that the cool drum part you just heard could violate another’s rights if used improperly. 

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Glenn Carstens-Peters, Unsplash

Co-Author: Samiksha Johri LLM, Associate at Graves Law Group, LLC

With countless parties offering streaming based services, the boundaries between legal and illegal content distribution have become increasingly blurred. One case that brought this issue into focus is United States v. Dallmann et al. 2:22-cr-00030 (D. Nev.), better known as the “Jetflicks” case. This case is the largest internet piracy prosecution to-date to go to trial in the United States. 

What Was Jetflicks?

Jetflicks was a subscription-based streaming service that operated like a legitimate platform but sourced its content from pirate websites. At its peak, Jetflicks hosted over 183,000 television episodes, often uploading them within 24 hours of their original broadcast. The service was accessible across smartphones, smart TVs, and gaming consoles, mimicking the user experience of mainstream platforms. 

But behind the scenes, Jetflicks was powered by automated scripts and software that scraped pirated content from the Internet and redistributed it to its tens of thousands of paying subscribers. This level of operational sophistication—and the scale of the infringement—caught the attention of federal prosecutors.

According to Matthew Galeotti, acting Assistant Attorney General for the U.S. Department of Justice’s (“DOJ”) Criminal Division, Jetflicks “made available more television episodes than any licensed streaming service on the market.”

The Charges and Convictions

In 2019, the DOJ charged eight individuals connected to Jetflicks with criminal copyright infringement under 17 U.S.C. § 506 and 18 U.S.C. § 2319. The case was prosecuted in the U.S. District Court for the District of Nevada.

Galeotti alleged that the “scheme generated millions of dollars in criminal profits and hurt thousands of U.S. companies and individuals who owned the copyrights to [television] shows but never received a penny in compensation from Jetflicks.”

Jetflicks’ lead operator received a seven-year federal prison sentence, while others received varying terms ranging from time served to 18 months in prison. The DOJ emphasized that digital piracy is not a victimless crime.

Why This Case Matters

Jetflicks is a landmark copyright case for several reasons. It was the first illegal streaming service prosecution to go to trial in the United States. Jetflicks marked a pivot toward targeting digital platforms and automated content scraping operations. Historically, criminal copyright cases focused on physical goods like CDs and DVDs.  Ultimately, the case sends a clear message to operators of unauthorized streaming services—digital distribution is subject to the same criminal penalties as physical piracy.

The case shows that the DOJ is willing to intervene when civil remedies aren’t enough. Criminal enforcement can be a powerful deterrent in cases of large-scale infringement. Even platforms that resemble legitimate businesses can face criminal liability if they knowingly distribute pirated content.  The case highlights the need for a rare mix of expertise in both intellectual property law and federal criminal procedure. Accordingly, attorneys advising tech and media clients must prepare for the dual risks of civil and criminal liability.

Ordinarily, copyright disputes in the United States are handled through civil litigation, where the copyright owner brings a lawsuit seeking damages or injunctions. These cases focus on compensating the rights holder and stopping the infringing activity, not criminally punishing the infringer. Criminal enforcement of copyright law, by contrast, is rare and generally reserved for cases of large-scale, willful, and commercially motivated piracy that cause significant harm. The DOJ’s decision to pursue Jetflicks with criminal charges, rather than leaving enforcement to private lawsuits, underscores just how unusual this case is. That choice highlights why Jetflicks represents a turning point: it shows that the government is willing to escalate copyright enforcement when civil remedies are viewed as insufficient.

The Jetflicks case is more than just a cautionary tale, it’s a turning point in how the U.S. government enforces copyright law in the digital age. As streaming continues to evolve, so too will the legal frameworks that protect creative content. For now, Jetflicks stands as a stark reminder that criminal copyright enforcement is real, and the consequences are severe.

Seyfarth Shaw LLP provides this information as a service to clients and other friends for educational purposes only. It should not be construed or relied on as legal advice or to create a lawyer-client relationship. Readers should not act upon this information without seeking advice from their professional advisers. 

Photograph by the author, featuring the trademarked US OPEN design mark.

It’s that time of year where, for two weeks in late August and early September, tens of thousands of people descend upon Flushing Meadows in Queens, New York for the U.S. Open tennis tournament. The biggest stars in the world of tennis are there, from veteran players to up-and-comers hoping for an upset win. Fans pack the grounds, including Arthur Ashe Stadium, the largest tennis-specific stadium in the world, named after the legendary tennis star who passed away in 1993.

Anyone who goes into Arthur Ashe Stadium or the other courts at the tournament, or who watches on TV, will likely see the tournament logo: the words “US Open” with what appears to be a speeding yellow tennis ball above it. Keen observers may even note the ® symbol in the logo. It will not surprise most folks to learn that the United States Tennis Association (USTA) owns trademark registrations for that mark (such as U.S. Registration Nos. 5,934,944 and 5,929,884), as well as the UNITED STATES OPEN TENNIS CHAMPIONSHIPS word mark (U.S. Registration No. 1,140,105). The USTA even has a registration and a pending application for HONEY DEUCE, the name of the signature beverage of the tournament (U.S. Registration No. 7,782,775 for alcoholic beverages; U.S. Serial No. 99,266,182 for clothing).

The phrase “US Open” is used by a wide variety of sporting events, however, so there a number of other trademark registrations for the phrase, unrelated to the tennis tournament or the USTA. Sports ranging from golf (U.S. OPEN CHAMPIONSHIP, U.S. Registration No. 1,151,944) to bowling (U.S. OPEN, U.S. Registration No. 6,777,297) to Muay Thai (US OPEN, U.S. Registration No. 7,077,363) use the phrase or variations thereon. It is a crowded field, but the tennis tournament has carved out a unique identity among users of the phrase.

That made me wonder: have any top tennis players obtained U.S. trademark registrations relating to their names or brands? I was surprised to find that of the top five ranked women’s players, only one had registered trademarks that I could definitively determine were owned by the player: the Polish player Iga Swiatek. She has registered or applied to register, through a foundation, 1GA (U.S. Registration No. 7,691,163); JAZDA (Polish for “let’s go”) (U.S. Registration No. 7,873,751); IGA SWIATEK (U.S. Serial No. 79,374,697); and TEAM SWIATEK (U.S. Serial No. 79,374,695). 

On the men’s side, there are similarly few trademarks among the top five. Italian Jannik Sinner appears to have registered a logo (U.S. Registration No. 7,089,046) and JANNIK SINNER (U.S. Registration No. 7,088,922). Spaniard Carlos Alcaraz has registered CARLOS ALCARAZ (U.S. Registration No. 7,646,319). That appears to be it for the top five players.

With name, image, and likeness (or NIL) rights exploding in college sports, and athletes and other celebrities increasingly acting like entrepreneurs, it may not be long before tennis players see the value of filing an application as essential as stringing a racquet. As we’ve described in prior posts, athletes like Angel Reese, Caitlin Clark, Breanna Stewart, and Flau’jae Johnson, and celebrities like Taylor Swift, Beyonce, Kendrick Lamar, and SZA, have been building their trademark portfolios to protect their personal brands.  In today’s sports economy, failing to register a mark might be the real unforced error. Will we see start to see more tennis players serving up trademark applications? Only time will tell.  

Taylor Swift performed at Gillette Stadium in May as part of the US Era's Tour.
Stephen Mease, Unsplash

Taylor Swift isn’t just a pop icon—she’s a master of intellectual property strategy. With the announcement of her twelfth studio album, The Life of a Showgirl, Swift once again demonstrated how to blend creative storytelling with airtight brand protection. Just hours before she appeared on her boyfriend’s podcast to pull the album out of a mint green briefcase, her company TAS Rights Management LLC filed trademark applications for THE LIFE OF A SHOWGIRL (App. Serial No. 99331566), the acronym TLOAS (App. Serial No. 99331569), and a stylized version of her initials T.S. (App. Serial No. 99331570).

The applications cover a wide range of goods and services to protect Swift’s Reputation from being unfairly capitalized by squatters, and showcase a Fearless example of proactive brand protection, portfolio expansion, and the nuanced use of timing in filings.

Speak Now: Controlling the Narrative and the Registry

Swift’s filings provide an important reminder that timing is everything. To ensure a dramatic reveal without sacrificing her place in line at the USPTO, her company filed the applications between 6:15 and 6:20 pm Eastern on August 11, 2025. They did not show up on public-facing USPTO records until several hours later, giving her time to reveal the album name on a teaser clip from Jason and Travis Kelce’s New Heights podcast before anyone was the wiser.

This “quiet filing” tactic allowed Swift to secure legal protection before the public announcement, minimizing the risk of “Bad Blood” with trademark squatters or unauthorized merchandisers. It’s a move that reflects a deep understanding of how timing can be used to control both narrative and legal positioning without risking premature leaks or third-party interference.

No “Blank Space”: Ensuring Proper Breadth of Coverage

Swift’s filings cover everything from music recordings and apparel to incense burners, inflatable toys, shoelaces, Christmas tree skirts, and even bean bags. The applications were filed on an intent-to-use basis, so the list may be narrowed over time as her business plans further solidify. But this breadth of protection ensures that her brand remains firmly in her control across diverse product categories.

Swift is employing a smart defensive strategy that helps preempt unauthorized merchandising and preserves licensing flexibility. In the process, she’s preserving her brand equity and ensuring that fan spending supports her official channels rather than third-party profiteers. This is a reminder that trademark strategy isn’t just about current use—it’s about anticipating future brand extensions and maintaining control over brand identity across diverse markets.

In other words, Swift is waving a Red flag for would-be infringers now in hopes that later, she doesn’t have to say: “Look What You Made Me Do.”

“You Belong With Me”: Building a Trademark Empire

The scope of Swift’s trademark holdings goes far beyond her most recent filings. Indeed, Swift’s trademark portfolio is as layered as her discography. With over 300 U.S. filings and more than 400 globally, she’s protected everything from album titles and lyrics to her cats’ names. Recent filings include:

  • REPUTATION TAYLOR’S VERSION (App. Serial No. 99340678)
  • TAYLOR SWIFT TAYLOR’S VERSION (App. Serial No. 99340684)
  • SWIFTIE (App. Serial No. 99224307)
  • TAYLOR-CON (App. Serial No. 98378646)
  • SWIFTMAS (App. Serial No. 98181094)

This level of “Delicate” portfolio expansion and management requires ongoing audits, international coordination, deep understanding of both common law rights and statutory protections in various jurisdictions, and proactive global enforcement. It’s a reminder that trademarks aren’t just legal tools—they’re instruments of brand storytelling.

It also highlights the value of working with brand owners to identify protectable assets beyond the obvious—lyrics, visuals, and even fan culture references can become enforceable trademarks. In this respect, while trademarks allow Swift to monetize almost every aspect of her public persona, they are also allowing her a degree of control over her brand beyond the patchwork of state NIL laws. She knows “All Too Well” that if she is not proactive about controlling the narrative, someone else will.

Avoiding Bad “Karma”: Key Takeaways for Trademark Counsel

Swift’s approach offers a blueprint for any brand looking to protect its identity. Her proactive filings, broad coverage, and strategic timing show that trademark protection isn’t just a legal formality—it’s a foundational business strategy.

Do it Swift “Style”:

  • Preemptive Filing: Align trademark filings with marketing timelines to avoid third-party interference.
  • Broad Class Coverage: File across multiple classes to preserve brand control and licensing potential.
  • Narrative Control: Use trademark strategy to shape public perception and reinforce brand identity.
  • Portfolio Audits: Regularly review and expand filings to reflect evolving brand assets and market opportunities.
  • Enforce Proactively: Registered marks make takedowns Swift and effective.

As Swift’s career shows, intellectual property isn’t just about ownership—it’s about empowerment, control, and legacy. The best protection strategies are proactive, expansive, and deeply integrated with business goals.

Swift is clearly a Lover of IP, and her sophisticated, multi-jurisdictional strategy provides an important reminder that you can’t “Shake It Off” when it comes to trademark filings.

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Arseny Togulev, Unsplash

Starting January 1, 2026, California’s AI Transparency Act (SB 942) goes into effect, marking the first law in the U.S. to require built-in disclosures and detection tools for generative AI content. Do not panic (yet). This law does not apply to every system out there. In fact, many companies may be surprised to find they’re completely outside the AI Transparency Act’s reach. That said, January is coming up faster than you think. If you think this law might apply to you, now’s the time to start sorting that out.

Here’s the bottom line: SB 942 only applies if your company builds a generative AI system that creates audio, video, or image content (in other words, multimedia), makes that system publicly accessible in California, and has over one million monthly users or visitors. Miss any one of those criteria, and the law does not apply to you. It also does not matter where most of your users are located; what matters is that the system is accessible from California. So even if your user base is largely outside the state, if Californians can reach your system and you’re over the user threshold, you’re potentially on the hook. There’s no carve-out for accidental exposure or minimal in-state usage. If it’s online and accessible to Californians, the law could apply.

The law is focused on multimedia content because that’s where the biggest risks of deception lie. If you provide AI tools that generate synthetic voices, deepfake-style videos, hyper-realistic artwork, or virtual avatars, you’re likely in the crosshairs, especially if you created, coded, or produced the system. Even if you’re licensing the platform to others, the law may still apply. On the other hand, if you’re simply offering access to a generative AI system developed by someone else, you may not be covered. But if you modify, fine-tune, or rebrand that third-party system and make it publicly accessible in California, you could still fall within scope. Responsibility often depends on how much control or customization you have over the AI system and whether you’re effectively acting as a provider.

If your system only generates text, however, you’re not covered under SB 942, regardless of how many users you have. This includes chatbots, email-writing assistants, legal brief generators, article summarizers, language translators, recommendation engines, search tools, and even streaming platforms or games that use pre-scripted content. If your AI talks but doesn’t draw, animate, or sing, you’re in the clear, at least for now.

For companies that are covered, the law comes with a specific set of requirements. You’ll need to offer a free, publicly available tool that allows users to check whether an image, video, or audio clip was generated by your system. Your content must support two forms of disclosure: a visible label that users can opt to include, and a hidden watermark that your system must embed automatically. That watermark needs to include your company’s name, details about the AI system used, a timestamp of when the content was created, and a unique identifier.

There’s also a licensing catch. If you license your generative AI system to others, you must include terms in the contract that require them to preserve the watermarking features. If they remove or tamper with those features, you are legally required to revoke the license within 96 hours.

Unlike some privacy laws out there, the AI Transparency Act has some teeth. Violations can result in civil penalties of up to $5,000 per day, per violation. Enforcement power rests with the California Attorney General and local prosecutors. Individuals cannot bring lawsuits under the law because there’s no private right of action. However, if the state sees noncompliance, it has the power to step in.

So what’s the takeaway? If your AI generates images, audio, or video and has a big user base in California, it’s time to think about compliance. But if your system sticks strictly to text, you’re off the hook, at least under this law. That said, the regulatory winds are shifting fast. SB 942 might be the first, but it won’t be the last. Expect other states, and possibly federal lawmakers (doubt it), to follow suit with their own rules.

If you’re unsure whether your system falls under SB 942, or if you want to get ahead of what’s coming, now’s the time to ask the hard questions. Better to prepare early than scramble later.

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Jon Tyson, Unsplash

Superman has soared back onto the big screen, and unless you’ve been locked in the Fortress of Solitude, you already know his origin story: Rocketed from the doomed planet Krypton. Raised in Kansas. Secretly, a mild-mannered reporter. Publicly, the world’s greatest hero.

But behind the scenes, in the real world, Superman has another origin story. One filled not with General Zod or Brainiac, but with contracts, copyright law, and a battle for ownership that has spanned generations.

Writer Jerry Siegel and artist Joe Shuster created Superman in the 1930s. In 1938, Siegel and Shuster sold the rights to Superman to what would become DC Comics. The price? A one-time payment of $130.

That deal gave DC the exclusive right to publish Superman stories. But it did not give Siegel and Shuster royalties, long-term compensation, or any creative control. As Superman became a pop culture juggernaut, appearing in comics, radio shows, movies, cereal boxes, Halloween costumes, and more, Siegel and Shuster were left behind, not unlike Clark Kent in Superman II, stripped of his powers and sitting helpless in that Smallville diner, wondering where he fits in.

The two creators sued DC in 1947 and again in the 1970s, seeking to reclaim their rights. Each time, courts sided with DC. The pair eventually received a modest annual stipend starting in the late 1970s, but only after public outcry during the lead-up to the first Superman film. DC did not quite go full evil-Superman (Superman III style), but they certainly did not volunteer to make things right until the pressure mounted.

Still, that was not the end of the story.

In 2008, a federal judge ruled that Siegel’s widow and daughter had successfully reclaimed a portion of the Superman copyright under termination rights (sometimes referred to as reversion rights), a powerful creator-friendly mechanism built into U.S. law.

Under U.S. copyright law, any transfer or license of copyright can be terminated 35 years after the grant (or, in some cases, 35 years after publication), so long as the work was not made for hire. This rule was written into the 1976 Copyright Act to give creators a second chance when early deals turned out to be one-sided or unfair. It is a legal safety net for people like Siegel and Shuster, who gave up the rights to a billion-dollar icon before anyone knew just how valuable he would become.

Think of Superman I, when Clark turns back time to save Lois. Or Superman Returns, where Superman returns (hence the title) to Earth after a five-year absence, only to find the world has moved on without him. Except in this case, the world did not move on, and thanks to copyright law, Superman’s creators were given a way to return to the story they started.

Of course, this was not the legal equivalent of snapping Zod’s neck (Man of Steel style). The Siegels did not wipe DC’s rights off the map. What they reclaimed was co-ownership of the original 1938 Superman: the character as he appeared in Action Comics #1, complete with cape, powers, and origin story.

DC still retains control over much of the modern Superman universe, including:

  • The broader mythology and characters introduced after 1938 (such as Lex Luthor’s later incarnations, Kryptonite, the Fortress of Solitude, the Bottle City of Kandor, and yes, even Superman IV: The Quest for Peace’s infamous Nuclear Man, for better or worse)
  • Trademarks, including the “S” shield, Superman’s name, and iconic phrases like “Up, up, and away” or “Faster than a speeding bullet”
  • All content created as “work for hire,” which by law belongs to the employer, not the individual writer or artist

So, while the Siegels had initially reclaimed a significant piece of Superman’s origin, they couldn’t simply publish their own Superman comic with the full cast and mythology. DC still controlled the rest of the cinematic and commercial empire.

However, the Siegels’ partial victory was short-lived. After the district court ruled in favor of the Siegel heirs in 2008, DC Comics appealed to the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit.

In 2013, the Ninth Circuit reversed the district court’s grant of summary judgment, concluding that an October 19, 2001 letter from the Siegels’ attorney constituted a binding acceptance of DC’s October 16, 2001 oral offer, which finalized the key settlement terms that had been negotiated over several years, including substantial financial compensation to the Siegel heirs in exchange for the re-grant of all rights in Superman, Superboy, and related properties. The court held that, under California contract law, the letter formed an enforceable agreement, even if some formalities were to be completed later.

The case was remanded to the district court, and on April 18, 2013, Judge Otis D. Wright entered judgment in favor of DC, holding that the October 2001 agreement transferred all of the Siegel heirs’ rights.

Laura Siegel Larson appealed the district court’s 2013 judgment back to the Ninth Circuit, raising new arguments. Larson claimed, for the first time, that her mother Joanne Siegel had rescinded the agreement in letters written in 2002 and that DC Comics had acquiesced to that rescission. However, the Ninth Circuit held in a February 10, 2016, memorandum that this argument was waived, because it had not been raised earlier in the litigation:

As a result, DC regained full rights, cutting off the Siegels’ termination claims and reaffirming its control over the Superman franchise.

The Shuster estate also tried to exercise termination rights but ran into legal roadblocks. In 1992, Joe Shuster’s sister signed a settlement re-granting rights to DC in exchange for an annual payment. In 2010, a federal court ruled that the 1992 agreement, signed by Shuster’s sister, his statutory heir, constituted a post-termination grant, effectively blocking any further attempt to exercise termination rights under U.S. law.

Most recently, in 2025, the Shuster estate filed suit again, this time citing British copyright law, claiming that Shuster’s rights reverted in 2017 under U.K. rules. They sought royalties and tried to block the release of the new Superman movie overseas.

The case was later refiled in New York state court, which heard the injunction motion and denied it on the grounds that (i) the plaintiff had no likelihood of success on the merits; and (ii) there was a lack of irreparable harm.

For this Gen X’er, the Christopher Reeve films, yes, even Superman III, will always have a spot in the Fortress of Nostalgia. Superman IV? Straight to the Pocket Universe, no appeal.

While social media throws punches over who wore the cape best, Reeve, Cavill, Routh, or Corenswet, the real heavyweight fight is about who owns Superman. Spoiler: it might not be settled until the Man of Steel flies into the public domain. Similar to other copyrighted works, Superman is not protected forever. On January 1, 2034, Action Comics #1 (Superman’s debut) will enter the public domain in the United States. That means anyone could legally use that original version of Superman without paying a license fee. Later developments (like heat vision, Lois Lane’s modern versions, and new villains) may remain protected by separate copyrights or trademarks.

Still, the countdown has started.

Characters like Sherlock Holmes, Dracula, and Winnie the Pooh have already joined the public domain. Superman is not far behind. Maybe he will get there before Nicolas Cage finally gets his full shot at the role (excluding that questionable CGI cameo in The Flash).

And while I am no movie critic, I give the latest incarnation ten stars, an A+, and two thumbs up. It delivers truth, justice, and everything you could hope for in a Superman story.

Maybe the sequel will include some IP drama. My pitch: Lex Luthor travels back in time and trademarks the Superman logo, then sues Superman for infringement in the present day. James Gunn, feel free to call me if you want a treatment. (Note: generally, ideas are not protectable IP)

Titel: Verbouwing en uitbreiding van de villa Anna van den Vondelstraat 12 in opdracht van Reinhold Meltzer, koopman en glasfabrikant. Beschrijving: Ontwerptekening in blauwdruk met doorsnede.
Amsterdam City Archives, Unsplash

Floor plans are a key part of real estate listings, providing fundamental information about the layout of a building to prospective buyers or renters. But home designer Charles James and his company Designworks Homes, Inc. filed a lawsuit in 2018 raising questions about what permissions might be required to include such plans in listings. In Designworks Homes, Inc. v. Columbia House of Brokers Realty, Inc., the Eighth Circuit Court of Appeals resolved the question in a significant decision for real estate professionals by affirming that using home floorplans in resale listings can qualify as fair use under copyright law.

James created and obtained copyright registrations for architectural plans for homes featuring a distinctive triangular atrium. When real estate agents included hand-drawn floorplans of these homes in online listings, James sued for copyright infringement.  Initially, the district court ruled that the floorplan drawings fell within an exception of the Copyright Act that exempts pictures, paintings, photographs or other pictorial representations of an architectural work if it is visible from a public place. The appeals court rejected that theory and remanded the case for further development, observing that a fair use defense might apply. The case found its way back to the Eighth Circuit after the district court granted summary judgment on the basis of the defendants’ fair use.

On appeal, the court sided with the agents, emphasizing that the floorplans were not copied verbatim but were independently created to help market the homes. The judges found that the use was transformative:  it served a different purpose (marketing, not architectural replication), and ultimately benefited the public by providing information. The fact that the agents used the plans for commercial purposes did not change that analysis.  It also did not harm the market for the original works. Importantly, the court noted that James had not licensed the floorplans for resale use, weakening his claim of market harm.

This ruling reassures real estate professionals that including basic floorplans in listings—especially when created independently—is likely a defensible, and permissible, fair use.

There is small basketball court near my house that’s right next to the beach. Most every night I walk my 5-year-old down to the playground and take in the amazing sunset. She plays while I read a book, listen to a podcast. Except for tonight where I watched a pickup basketball game between strangers. It was cool to me how upon arriving at the court, these guys didn’t know each other, but in a matter a few minutes of playing, each person knew their role, knew the goal and depended on each other to accomplish that goal.
Patrick Fore, Unsplash

Angel Reese—the former LSU basketball superstar who now plays for the Chicago Sky in the WNBA—made headlines recently when she filed an application to register MEBOUNDS as a trademark for clothing and related items (Serial No. 99,234,613).  “Mebounds” was a phrase used by some of Ms. Reese’s critics, referring to rebounds Ms. Reese grabs after missing a shot.  Ms. Reese turned the tables on the trolls by applying to register MEBOUNDS.  Ms. Reese is also selling merchandise bearing the word, and she announced that she plans to donate the proceeds from those sales to efforts to combat cyberbullying.

Ms. Reese’s trademark efforts are not limited to MEBOUNDS, however.  Ms. Reese has applied to register several other trademarks, including her own name (Serial No. 99,072,036); REESEBOUNDS (99,245,044); and UNAPOLOGETICALLY ANGEL (Serial No. 99,073,040).  Ms. Reese has applied to register these marks through the entity Angel Reese LLC.  Ms. Reese previously filed an application to register one of her nicknames, BAYOU BARBIE, in 2023 in her individual capacity (Serial No. 97,772,645), but ultimately abandoned the application.

Ms. Reese’s applications reflect a growing trend of athletes seeking to protect their names and their brands through trademark applications.  For example, current LSU basketball player and rap artist Flau’jae Johnson—who was Ms. Reese’s teammate before Ms. Reese joined the WNBA—has applied to register five trademarks: FL4U’JAE (Serial No. 98,807,603); FLAU’JAE THE BIG 4 (Serial No. 98,306,281); FLAU’JAE THE BIGGEST 4 (Serial No. 98,306,300); FLAU’JAE (Serial No. 98,306,273); and DASHI (Serial No. 98,306,288). 

Ms. Reese appears to be pursuing trademark registrations more than many other current WNBA players, however.  For example, Caitlin Clark of the Indiana Fever appears to have applied to register the wordmark CAITLIN CLARK FOUNDATION (Serial No. 98,216,310) through an entity, CC22 Ventures LLC (#22 is Ms. Clark’s jersey number).  That application appears to be the only pending application filed by CC22 Ventures, and it does not appear that Ms. Clark has attempted to register her name as a wordmark. 

New York Liberty superstar Breanna Stewart appears to own two registrations for her nickname, STEWIE (Registration Nos. 6,714,857 and 6,755,120).  An entity called Stewie, Inc.—which may be affiliated with Ms. Stewart—has also applied to register STEW YORK (Serial No. 98,913,435), a phrase frequently identified with Ms. Stewart since she joined the New York Liberty in 2023.  Three-time WNBA MVP A’ja Wilson of the Las Vegas Aces appears to have applied to register EVERY FLAME TELLS A STORY (Serial No. 99,233,884), but abandoned an earlier attempt to register a stylized AW logo (Serial No. 88,933,285). 

These are just examples, but so far, Ms. Reese seems to be more active than most current WNBA players when it comes to seeking trademark registrations.  We will see whether Ms. Reese grabs any additional trademarks, and whether other WNBA players follow her lead.

US Capitol: Photo By Syed F Hashemi
Syed F Hashemi, Unsplash

A day after announcing that “fair use” would not shield AI training models against potential copyright infringement, President Donald Trump fired Shira Perlmutter, Register of Copyrights, and her superior, Librarian of Congress, Carla Hayden. These layoffs may shape the future of copyright law in the age of AI.

Legal and Constitutional Concerns

Perlmutter’s dismissal on May 10 came just one day after the Copyright Office released the third installment of its “Copyright and Artificial Intelligence” report – an installment rejecting the AI industry’s theory that training generative models using copyrighted works constitutes fair use.

Notably, the Register of Copyrights is not a presidential appointee. Instead, the position is filled by the Librarian of Congress, a role that itself requires Senate confirmation. Legal scholars and lawmakers have expressed concern over the President’s actions. Law professor Blake E. Reid noted that the Library of Congress, which houses the Copyright Office, is a “hydra” of legislative, executive, and judicial functions. Accordingly, some scholars argue that this set-up makes it a poor fit for executive control.

Further complicating matters, several Department of Justice officials were appointed to acting leadership roles within the Library of Congress, without Senate approval.

The Copyright Office has historically operated with a degree of political insulation, due to the technical nature of its work and the bipartisan complexity of copyright law. That independence is now under threat. Democratic lawmakers have voiced alarm that the firings signal a shift toward politicization at a time when the agency’s decisions must strike a balance between AI and creative industries.

The Copyright Office has traditionally maintained a degree of independence, reflecting the technical nature of its work and the complex, often bipartisan, landscape of copyright law. Recent developments have raised concerns among some observers about potential shifts in how the Office operates. These concerns come at a time when the agency faces important decisions that will affect both AI innovation and the creative industries.

Implications for AI and Copyright

The implications of these actions for AI and copyrightability are significant. The Copyright Office’s recent report took a largely negative stance on AI – a position that could shape litigation and policy for years to come. Critics argue that political influence on the agency’s leadership may cause artists and their representatives to question the objectivity and durability of its guidance.

Some believe that the firings could chill future regulatory efforts. For example, if agency heads fear removal for issuing opinions that conflict with top executive priorities, the integrity of administrative decision-making may suffer. These critics argue that maintaining confidence in expert-driven and independent decision-making is especially important in the context of AI, where legal frameworks are still evolving.

Conclusion

As the debate over AI and intellectual property intensifies, one thing is becoming increasingly clear: the U.S. Copyright Office is emerging as a central gateway to the future of AI law. Its decisions and policy direction will play a pivotal role in determining how creative works generated by or with AI are addressed under existing legal frameworks.