Copyright

For the record, as I write this response, the following message runs across the top of the U.S. Copyright Office’s web site:

Operations Updates During the COVID-19 Pandemic

Out of an abundance of caution, all Library of Congress buildings, which includes the U.S. Copyright Office, will be closed to the public until Wednesday, April 1, 2020, at 8:30 a.m. to reduce the risk of transmitting COVID-19 coronavirus. If you are a user of U.S. Copyright Office services, submit your applications online, browse FAQs, and submit emails with questions through copyright.gov. You may also reach the Copyright Office by phone at (202) 707-3000.

Despite that announcement, no deadline, fee, or change in copyright law or regulation has been announced.[1]  That said, even the Copyright Office is switching things up as we respond to a global pandemic, and I have received many questions asking if the normal copyright laws still apply (they do).

This question, too, is about pandemic response; the member’s colleague is working to provide content for students whose education is making a quick, unplanned transition to distance learning.  That calls for flexibility, ingenuity—and appropriate online content.

The member’s institution is not alone in this need for new resources.  As I write this, my staff is working from home, and my kids (ages five and fifteen) are handling packets from school and electronic transmissions of homework.  Everyone I know now wishes they had bought stock in Zoom.  We are all seeing how vital solid online content can be.

The member wants to know if simply providing links to content that might not be posted with the permission of the copyright holder will expose their school to liability.

As of this special moment in time,[2] the clearest[3] case law on linking and academic texts found in an array of cases pen-culminating[4] in Pearson Education, Inc. v. Ishayev, a 2014[5] ruling from the one of the federal courts located in New York City (the “SDNY,” if you want to sound cool about it).

In the “Pearson” line of opinions, academic publisher Pearson Education accused two Brooklyn residents of (among other things) providing a hyperlink to a file-sharing website where a person could (allegedly) obtain copies of the Plaintiff’s materials.[6]  Pearson’s law firm even had one of their legal staff pay for the links from the defendant! (This is the kind of sneaky thing that makes people not like lawyers.)

As pointed out in the line of Pearson rulings, sending an email containing a hyperlink to a site facilitating the sale of a copyrighted work does not itself constitute copyright infringement; it’s viewed as “the digital equivalent of giving a recipient driving directions to another website on the Internet.”  But that doesn’t mean that sending a link to infringing content is always okay.

As put by SDNY Judge Paul Englemeyer’s March 24, 2014 ruling on the case:

The publishers assert that Ishayev is liable for contributory infringement because he knowingly sold access to hyperlinks, which allowed other individuals to download eight of the publishers' copyright protected works from a website. If proven with competent evidence, such conduct would lead to liability for contributory copyright infringement—sending hyperlinks that permit others to download protected materials would plainly amount to conduct that encourages or assists in copyright infringement. [emphasis added]

Unfortunately, as can be seen in the Pearson opinion, deciding possible liability in matters like this doesn’t come down to a simple question of “links, or no links?”

What does it come down to?  The sender’s awareness of infringing copies, and their state of mind and intentions when they sent the links.[7]  In other words: if you know it’s wrong, don’t do it.

That’s the cold letter of the law, and it’s not very helpful or comforting, I know.  I give you something that might be a better guidestart on this one: professionalism and respect.

We are living in a very odd Spring Semester, here in 2020.  As the State of New York issues Executive Order after Executive Order, I am struggling to find solid guidance for clients.  People need to know what they can do (and not do).

While not quite on par with trying to education students, I can relate: we need content to get the job done, and the content we are finding at this precise moment might not be the most reliable.  It’s scary and inconvenient and hard.

I think, more than ever, that means it is time for us to do what we know is right.  If we know an audiobook is available from an unauthorized source, don’t direct innocent kids to go download it from a known infringing source.  It’s just not the right thing to do (and some day, those students might be copyright holders themselves, deserving of the same respect).

And finally, even if you’re willing to take the risk for your institution (we’ll take our chances, it’s a pandemic!), think of it this way: publishers and content owners track infringements by IP address, so the person who might get in trouble might not be the school, but rather the student.[8]

So, did the case law on linking “change?”  Not quite.  But it has evolved.  And who knows, maybe as a result of the current crisis, it will evolve some more.  But for now, knowingly linking to known unauthorized content brings risk.

Thank you for a great question.  I wish you health, energy, and ingenuity in this time of national emergency.

[1] Registration fees went UP this month, but that’s another story!

[2] March 22, 2020, and what an odd day it has been. 

[3] In my opinion.

[4] Welcome to my new word, “penculminating,” which means, the next-to-last thing before the end result.

[5] There are actually quite a few judicial opions on “Pearson Education.”  Make sure you look at the final rulings from 2014.

[6] This is a very bare-bones summary.  For the full story, check out the opinion here: https://scholar.google.com/scholar_case?case=2045770819331774838&hl=en&as_sdt=6&as_vis=1&oi=scholarr. (Note my intrepid linking without fear of liability!).

[7] I am not even going to attempt to go down the fair use road on this one!  But in different circumstances (not using the materials simply to teach from, for instance, or using tactical excerpts) such a claim could be made.

[8] Okay, let’s get real: it would be the parent whose name the IP address resolves to.  But you get my point.

You, reader, will never know my answer to this question.

That’s because to truly answer it, I had to contact the member and get some more information.  The information I received, and the answer I gave in return, were so specific, the content was no longer suitable for a general-audience response.[1]

It had become legal advice, not just “guidance,” or “commentary,” or “analysis.”  It was confidential, tailored to one entity, and protected by attorney-client privilege.

This is the challenge with fair use questions: they turn on numerous precise details.

That said, I can say that the bare-bones scenario above gives a few reasons to be cautious.  The use of the entire work, and the display in a public area, are red flags.

But I also want to caution you about too much caution.  Both those risk factors: use of the entire work, public display—could be easily balanced by an exercise in compare-and-contrast, substantive criticism, or in-depth analysis.

This is why an educational institution should always use a “fair use checklist”[2] to address questions of fair use.  An educational institution that uses a checklist has a good chance of determining that a use is “fair,” and while doing so, also creates documentation showing that their conclusion—even if later ruled to be erroneous—was in “good faith.”  This exercise can limit damages, later.

The most recent case law involving use of a photograph in an academic setting, Reiner v. Nishimori,[3] did result in a finding of fair use, and is an instructive example.  In that case, students used the plaintiff’s copyright-protected stock photograph to practice making advertisements.

Here is the court’s analysis of the case, using the fair use “four factor” test:

1. The first factor is “purpose and character of the use.”  For that factor, the court held that because the photo was not being used as instructional material, but rather as raw content for the generation of mock advertisements, the factor was in favor of fair use.
2. The second factor, however, “the nature of the copyrighted work,” was found to weigh slightly against fair use, since the original work was “creative,” and the student use was also “creative.”[4]
3. The third factor, “the amount of work used,” was against fair use because the students used entire photograph.
4. The fourth factor, “the effect on the market for the copyrighted work,” was found to support a fair use claim.  Basically, in this precise instance, it was found by the court that no one who would have purchased or licensed the original would choose not to do so based on the students’ use.

That’s Reiner v. Nishimori, where fair use carried the day.  But with a few tweaks of the facts, it could have had a different outcome.

And that’s while you may never know the real answer to this question.

[1] This makes it sound like it was rated “R.”  I assure you, the content was PG.  It was just legal advice.

[2] A very good example can be found here: https://copyright.cornell.edu/sites/default/files/Fair_Use_Checklist.pdf

[3] Reiner v. Nishimori No. 3:15-cv-00241 (M.D. Tenn. Apr. 28, 2017)

[4] This factor routinely messes up judges, and I personally disagree that “creative” works might qualify for more protection that laboriously and carefully assembled facts.  But I am not a judge!

I am a hands-on kind of lawyer.  When I do a real estate deal, I visit the property.  When I advise a historic preservation group, I drag my kids to see old houses.  When I represent a bakery, I try not to pack on an extra five pounds, but it’s always touch-and-go.

So, when this question came in, I hopped on SpringShare and checked out their product description for LibGuides, and pretended I was going to write one.  I delved into the license terms and the mechanics of the utility.  I observed how their various products work together, or a la carte.

On the SpringShare website, LibGuides is summarized this way:

“LibGuides is an easy-to-use content management system deployed at thousands of libraries worldwide. Librarians use it to curate knowledge and share information, organize class and subject specific resources, and to create and manage websites.”

I checked in with a few librarians I know (one of whom works in my office), and they reported that yes, the product is widely used and popular.  While mine was a very unscientific survey,[1] the  day I hopped on, SpringShare’s web page boasted participation by “6,100 libraries” and “82 countries” and “130,300” librarians.

I noticed a lot of legally interesting things when I was down the SpringShare rabbit hole, but I what I focused on was the member’s question: is there a legal concern related to attributions of LibGuides content?

I started with the LibGuides License,[2] which states:

OWNERSHIP OF DATA: Licensor does not own any data, information or material that you submit to the Software ("Customer Data").

In other words, SpringShare (the licensor) confirms that the subscriber (the licensee) owns the content they put on LibGuides.

The License then goes on:

You, not Licensor [remember, Springshare is the “Licensor”], shall have sole responsibility for the accuracy, quality, integrity, legality, reliability, appropriateness, and intellectual property ownership or right to use of all Customer Data, and Licensor shall not be responsible or liable for the deletion, correction, destruction, damage, loss or failure to store any Customer Data.

This means that while the licensee (the subscribing librarian or library) owns the content, they are also responsible for the consequences created by any content they don’t have the rights to (infringement claim, violation of privacy claim, etc.).

This is a very typical approach for content-sharing platforms.

The License then states:

In the event this Agreement is terminated, Licensor will make available to you a file of the Customer Data in XML format within 30 days of termination if you so request at the time of termination.

Isn’t that generous?  If you remember to ask nicely at the time you terminate the contract, you (the Licensee) have thirty whole days retrieve your property.[3]

This property arrangement is at the heart of the member’s question.  SpringShare claims no ownership of the content placed on LibGuides.  That content, unless licensed from another, is supposed to be owned by the licensee (the person or entity contracting with SpringShare for the service).

But is the “licensed LibGuides user” the content owner?

That depends.

In the member’s question, the “licensed LibGuides user” was probably the library (it would be very unusual, and not business-appropriate, for an account for an institution to be in an individual person’s name).  So, the library is the one getting assured they own the content put up through the account, and the library is the entity responsible in the event the content causes a problem (infringes copyright, invades someone’s privacy, etc.).

Now this is where the issue gets sensitive.  Under copyright law, content generated by employees, AS PART OF THEIR REGULAR DUTIES, is owned by their employer—unless a contract, policy, or hire letter says otherwise.  This “default rule” is spelled out in section 201(b) of the Copyright Act.[4]

How does this play out in the work environment? It varies.  Many librarians are part of a union, which means the written work they generate as part of their job might not be subject to the above-described “default rule” (a collective bargaining agreement can change the terms of employment related to copyright).  Still others work in environments where this “default rule” has been changed through a policy, or a hire letter.

This lack of uniformity means that any librarian composing LibGuides, who wants to use their compositions after they move to another job, should make sure they know where they stand when it comes to “employee-generated intellectual property.”  Does their workplace follow the “default rule?”  Does a union contract, policy, or hire letter change the “default rule?”  And is writing a LibGuide even part of their duties?

This is critical, because depending on who owns the content, they are free to do as they like with it: keep it up, remove it, change it, update it, etc. (of course, what they do on LibGuides is limited by the License and the technology).  And it is also critical because the current configuration[5] of LibGuides seems, to me, to create a potential problem.

Now, that addressed the legal part of the question; the answer is: yes, there are some legal concerns.  But the “legal” concerns might not be the full scope of the concerns presented by the question’s scenario.  Attribution of authorship is different from ownership, but it can be a critical issue of integrity.

My understanding of how LibGuides functions is that the account holder can change the roles, authority, and people admitted to create, modify, or access the content.  Within LibGuides, subscribers have the ability to assign users (Admin users, Regular users, Editor users, Contributor users, and Patron users) with different levels of access and authority.[6]

Within this structure, “Admin users” (who have the highest level of authority over an account), manage the Licensee’s use of the service.  The settings are changeable, and different LibGuides can be assigned to different users.

But what was WILD to me is that when a librarian leaves a library, to maintain the LibGuide, the library has to assign another staffer to the Guide.  That’s fine and makes sense, but because of LibGuide’s interface, that new person is then listed as the librarian in charge of the guide, and the way the screen looks (to me) the implication is that they are the author.

I believe that is the genesis of this question; people who took pride in their creation of a LibGuide first attributed to them are now seeing (implied) authorship (seemingly) attributed to another.  I have to admit, whether I owned it or not, that would sting a little.  Writing, even if it’s for your job, can be a very personal endeavor.

This seems entirely due to the design of the interface.  Between you, me, and the Internet,[7] it seems like a needless and utterly solvable problem.  And while not necessarily a legal issue (although if the former employee owns their work, it could be) it strikes me as a serious ethics/integrity/relationships issue.

Authorship is something people take seriously, especially in the arenas of academia and publishing—worlds in which librarians play an essential role.

How can this be solved?

First, LibGuides might want to think this through and develop a solution.[8]  But until then, libraries using LibGuides should assess their legal position (do they own their employees’ work under the “default rule”?  Or does a contract or policy say otherwise?) and, think how this phenomenon rests with their values.  On the flip side, librarians who create a great LibGuide and then want to move on in their professional careers should pay attention to who is the LibGuide’s “owner” and be mindful that a LibGuide owned by their employer will not always be in their name.  Further, the mutable nature of LibGuides (they are designed to be updated, altered and changed) means you might not always want to be associated with what the Guide turns into!

Thanks for a great question.

[1] “Unalytics.”

[2] “Terms of Use” and licensing agreements can be treacherous!  Services change them from time to time.  This was posted as of 3/6/2020, but always get your contract answers straight from the source.

[3] As a rule, I try to avoid snark and sarcasm in the “Ask the Lawyer” service.  Such rhetoric doesn’t age well, and there are defter ways to be funny.  That said, this one deserves some snark.  Thirty days, and then potentially thousands of dollars of your assets are lost?  Not so great.

[4] The law reads: “In the case of a work made for hire [which includes “a work prepared by an employee within the scope [their] employment”] the employer or other person for whom the work was prepared is considered the author for purposes of this title, and, unless the parties have expressly agreed otherwise in a written instrument signed by them, owns all of the rights comprised in the copyright.”

[5] As of March 6, 2020.

[6] On March 6, 2020, I found these categories on the LibGuides FAQ at ask.springshare.com/libguides/faq/1119#general.

[7] Hi, SpringShare!  I am confident you can fix this!

[8] For instance, I would create a “Legacy Content and History” option for customers, where the evolving work and chain of authors could be tracked.  Of course, that would still put the ultimate fate of the content in the hands of the employer, but it would empower them to maintain good feelings between librarians.

Some of the trickiest copyright questions I get relate to student work.

Why are they tricky?  Because of a self-imposed rule I have: find a way for the work to be done;  don’t let copyright interfere with art and science.[1]  In other words, our copyright glass of scholarship should be half full…of scholarship, not fear of lawsuits.

That said, most readers of this column will know that “educational use” does not justify the wholesale infringement of works, even if the purpose is scholarship.  To use a work without permission, the use must meet the criteria of “fair use.”[2]

But I’m getting ahead of the question.  Let’s bring it back to the beginning.

What’s the tricky issue here?  In this scenario, the band “released various music videos,” and asked the public to create new works based on the old, for entry into a contest.[3]

The band was essentially asking the public to create “derivative works,” which are new works based around a copyright-protected original (think movie sequels, musicals based on books, and paintings of paintings).

The faculty member plans to retain copies and direct students to use them after the completion of the contest, both for assignment and portfolio purposes.  Is that cool?

Now, if the band’s videos were expressly put into the “public domain” for the contest (meaning: no copyright protection) the question ends here. If the clips aren’t protected by copyright, the faculty member’s plans are just fine (it’s cool).[4]

Further, if the band gave a perpetual, irrevocable permission to any person who generates a new video using the clip, to use the clip for whatever reason they want, the question also ends here (again, retain the copy and using it as planned is cool).

But if instead, the band kept the videos protected by copyright,[5] and gave the public permission for only a limited amount of time (say, the duration of the contest), for a limited amount of purposes (say, for entering the contest), then yes, we are in a “danger zone” (not cool).[6]

However, before I agree that the ideal solution is to get the copyright owner’s position, I do want to make a case for fair use, which allows people to use copyrighted works in way that would otherwise be infringing (make copies, make derivative works, and even at times to sell them).

Based on the scenario described, it is not clear if the retention of copies as described in the scenario would be a fair use.  It would have to be justified under the four fair use factors, with the school and student being able to show that the retention of a complete copy and use of the clip for assignment and student portfolio purposes was justified.

The way for a school to do this is to use their fair use assessment form[7] and retain a copy.

To me, aside from the legal concerns, this is also an ethical issue.  A faculty member should not encourage a student to unknowingly infringe another’s copyright, especially if they know that student might include that work in an online portfolio of work.  This could put the student in legal trouble that is independent from the liability of the school.

Students, as individuals, do not have the same protections that higher education professionals have.  Schools, if they conduct a bona-fide fair use analysis, can limit the damages from alleged infringement.  Schools also usually have insurance for this stuff.  Newly-minted B.A.’s and M.F.A’s typically do not have the same resources.  This means, when the student gets sued, they are in a much riskier place than the school or the faculty member.

All that said, remember the mantra: find a way for the work to be done;  don’t let copyright interfere with art and science.  What does this mean?  While being cautious to not promote infringement, a faculty member in a medium such as film, or music, should not let students operate in ignorance of fair use, which is so important to both mediums.  Without sampling, without artistic call-and-response, we suffocate creative innovation.

If that sounds complicated, it is!  I will be reaching out to this member to talk the specifics through (that part is confidential).

[1] Promotion of “science and the useful arts” is the reason we have IP law in the first place (see U.S. Constitution, Article I, Section I, Clause 8).

[2] Or Section 110(a) or (b) of the Copyright Act. But you can read out that here https://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/text/17/110.

[3] As gimmicks go, I like this one.  I wish my favorite author, Umberto Eco, had invited me to write a chapter of “The Name of the Rose.”  I would have had Adso and William fire-proof…uh, sorry, spoiler.

[4] I speak legally, not pedagogically.  I have no idea if this would be a good film class assignment; I was a Russian History/U.S. Constitutional law major at an experimental school with no grades or tests (Hampshire College).  Other than once attending a class on the classic film “Battleship Potemkin” and whatever skills can be gleaned from serially watching the musical “1776,” I have zero credentials to evaluate the curriculum of a film course.

[5] Which, by the way, the band might not even own.

[6] For the record, if I were the lawyer advising this band, the contest terms would have contained a clause allowing my client to revoke permission to use the clip and participate in the contest in the event an entry was contrary to their values (racist, sexist, transphobic, etc.). 

[7] More information using a Fair Use Assessment form can be found here: https://copyright.cornell.edu/fairuse

One of my all-time favorite TV shows is Gilmore Girls.

Aside from being the origin of many expressive phrases ("Oi with the poodles already!"), as a parent, Gilmore Girls gave me a concept I used almost daily: "jam hands."

What is the origin of "jam hands"?  In Season 2, Episode 5, “Nick & Nora/Sid & Nancy”, the perpetually grumpy "Luke" character, upon being confronted with the prospect of childcare, confesses to a distaste for children: because they are loud, because they are messy, and because their hands always seem to be coated in jam.[1]

I have two kids.  "Jam hands" are very real.

My oldest kid (15, as of this writing) has paid his dues playing violin and piano, so I have personally witnessed the damage "jam hands" can do to instruments and music.  It must be jam warfare out there.

And of course, a kid can lose sheet music simply by putting it in their backpack.[2]

I don't know if “jam hands” and possible “backpack black hole” are the big reasons for this member wanting to give students back-up copies while retaining the "real" ones in a file, but I suspect that is at least part of the rationale.  Why wait until the good copies get destroyed or go missing?  Why not make back-up copies in advance?  If "fair use" creates educational exemptions to infringement, isn't this a use that qualifies?

Sadly, when Congress developed the "fair use guidelines" for educators,[3] they did not invite any parents to the advisory committee, and so the "jam hands" and "backpack black hole" clauses did not make it into the final guidelines.  Instead, those guidelines specifically prohibit copying for performance, except for:

Emergency copying to replace purchased copies which for any reason are not available for an imminent performance provided purchased replacement copies shall be substituted in due course.

So: no copying in advance…but, in the face of an "imminent performance," copying to replace "unavailable" purchased copies is okay (provided the replacement copies are "substituted in due course").

What does this tell us?  In this case, it's better to be re-active, than pro-active.  When a student jams up or black holes a copy, an educator can make replacement for a performance.  Just make sure you get around to purchasing and substituting (instead of destroying) those "replacement copies," in "due course."

I would of course love to leave this answer right there, having dispatched sage wisdom and quoted from decades-old guidance from Congress.  But I have no doubt that by now, at least one reader has said "Well, what's 'due course'?" And I don't want to be accused of fraternizing with the tomato.[4]

A lot has changed since the guidelines I quote above were drafted.[5]  Inspired by this question, I took a look at the sheet music market, to see if the landscape for fair use had shifted.[6]

As I am sure any music teacher reading this knows (but what was news to me), these days teachers can often print sheet music on demand (for a price).  And while of course not every copy a school has in print is available for download, the "emergency" aspect of the clause quoted above loses some heft when a copy can be obtained for $2.25 online.

THAT SAID, I know music program budgets rise and fall on nickels and dimes. I am not suggesting that a teacher or librarian solve this problem by simply immediately buying new copies; rather that when it comes to deciding what amount of time is "due course," the answer is: no later than when you can make the replacement purchase as part of your next budget cycle.

That said, before stressing about fair use and "replacement copies" and "due course," always check the fine print on the music (and on copies available from other sources).  While on my sheet music web site tour, I noted that some (but not all) of the sheet music I saw for sale had the phrase "this copy may be reproduced by the purchaser," and other flexible licenses.  So, for each piece of music you want to copy, before you worry, check the fine print.  You might have more permission than you think.

I wish I could give a better answer in the fight against “jam hands.”  But at least your answer didn’t fall into a “backpack black hole!”

[1] The full quote is here: https://www.tvfanatic.com/quotes/me-raising-a-kid-i-dont-even-like-kids-theyre-always-sticky/

[2] Don't watch your kid do this.  It's addictive.

[3] Set forth in the Copyright Office's "Circular 21," which is found here: https://www.copyright.gov/circs/circ21.pdf

[4] Another beloved Gilmore Girls reference

[5] For instance, Gerald Ford is no longer President.

[6] I particularly appreciated the functionality of https://www.jwpepper.com/sheet-music/welcome.jsp.  As a non-musician, I am not qualified to comment on their selection or quality.

This question came in from a school system, and it triggered a lot of memories for me.

My junior high school music teacher was a very nice man.  From deep within mid-1980's Central New York, he tried to cobble together an orchestra from an array of students whose skills and practice habits ranged from "Julliard-bound," to "who is torturing that cat in the third violin chair?"

Back in 1986 (when I was 13), I saw this guy as "old."  Because of the way he tirelessly started the music over (and over) until the brass section[1] entered at the right bar of "Star Wars", I also saw him as a font of endless tolerance.

Now that I am older, my memory portrays my former teacher as a pretty young guy (I think he was in his early 30's).  And by now I have worked with enough educators to know that his tireless tolerance of our incompetence was passion.

So, this question has stirred a feeling of nostalgic gratitude.  Because of that,[2] I want to give this member an answer that is really solid, helpful, and clear.  But as they say in the construction biz when people ask for a job that is quick, quality, and cheap: I can give you a combination of any two, but not all three.

Here is the part of the answer that is solid and clear: Making a recording of a copyright-protected composition, unless the recorder has the permission of the copyright owner, or the recording falls under an exception, is copyright infringement…even for educational purposes.

Is there helpful and solid authority on that?  Yes. Circular 21, the long-standing guidance on the relevant copyright laws,[3] makes it clear that for educators, only the following recording of musical compositions is allowed under "fair use":

A single copy of recordings of performances by students may be made for valuation or rehearsal purposes and may be retained by the educational institution or individual teacher.

[AND]

A single copy of a sound recording (such as a tape, disc, or cassette) of copyrighted music may be made from sound recordings owned by an educational institution or an individual teacher for the purpose of constructing aural exercises or examinations and may be retained by the educational institution or individual teacher. (This pertains only to the copyright of the music itself and not to any copyright which may exist in the sound recording.)

So, at first blush, the answer to the member's first question (and thus, all the following questions) is: NO.

Now, the core guidance in Circular 21 is OLD.[4]  It pre-dates streaming, it pre-dates file-sharing, and depending on what start date you give the web, it pre-dates the Internet.  But insofar as case law and legal commentary is concerned, it abides.[5]

So, while I have to answer a resounding NO to the question just as it is asked, I can offer a few helpful and clear solutions.

First, it never hurts to ask.  Depending on the copyright holder, you may be able to get a "limited license" for the very thing you want to do.  Some owners might even be charmed.  Others, of course, will just refer you to their manager.  You never know until you try.  Just make sure you get it in writing.

Second, while the Circular 21 guidance quoted above gives clear examples of what fair use permits, on page 7 of Circular 21, just before listing those guidelines, it states "There may be instances in which copying which does not fall within the guidelines stated below may nonetheless be permitted under the criteria of fair use."

So, if a version has been recorded for performance as part of a clever mash-up, for purposes of commentary and criticism, or another use that might meet fair uses' four factors, this approach is worth considering.  Sadly, since that is a case-by-case analysis, I can't say what precisely when that is allowed!  An education institution should perform such an analysis using its fair use form.[6]

Third--and I can't believe I am suggesting this--it may be that a combination of different licensing can arrange this precise permission for you.

We'll call this the "Two-Step Shuffle" solution.  It is meant to be helpful, and it is solid, but I am concerned it might not be too clear.  But let's give it a go.

NOTE: to use the "Two-Step Shuffle" solution, your institution MUST have a public performance license from a licensor like ASCAP or BMI.  So, if your school doesn't have one, just stop reading, right now.  But if you do…

Step one: see if the song you want to record is licensed for "covers" on a publicly accessible "host site" like YouTube.[7]  If the host site[8] has the license, you can record the accompaniment as a "cover," and put it on the host site.

Step two:  With your "cover" recorded, you can then play it from YouTube at any premises that has a license for public performance (this is why you need that license from ASACP or BMI…which is also what covers playing music at a high school dance, music over the loudspeaker during halftime, etc.).

Of course, this being an Internet solution, the "Two-Step Shuffle" solution could disappear at any moment!  But this being the Internet, something else will take its place.

Now, in suggesting a school to make use of a commercial video hosting service (like YouTube), I would like to take a moment to discuss those two important legal concepts: "Coulda," and "Shoulda."

Just because a school can upload content to a site like YouTube, and get a license for a cover, doesn't mean it should.  After all, when using a service like YouTube, an institution agrees with these terms:

By providing Content to the Service, you grant to YouTube a worldwide, non-exclusive, royalty-free, sublicensable and transferable license to use that Content (including to reproduce, distribute, prepare derivative works, display and perform it) in connection with the Service and YouTube’s (and its successors' and Affiliates') business, including for the purpose of promoting and redistributing part or all of the Service.

In other words, you're feeding the beast; you're commodifying the content you've chosen to share.  If it's student work, there are privacy and further intellectual property concerns (students own their copyrights, after all).  None of these are things an educator should take lightly.

That said, if approached with the right balance of attention to legal details and commitment to artistic excellence, the "Two-Step Shuffle" can also show future artists and performers how to respect copyright law and engage in self-promotion (which seems to be a critical skill  nowadays).  So "woulda, coulda, shoulda?"  If you undertake the "Two-Step Shuffle" solution, do it with an "ethics buddy" (preferably an administrator who has your back).

And of course, a "Two-Step Shuffle" solution can only be used if you can answer these questions in the affirmative, and you preserve the documents from which you derive your answers:

1. Do you have express permission from the host site to make and post the recording on the host site?
   1. If "yes," keep a copy of that permission.
2. Do you have express permission to perform the recording at the premises?[9]
   1. If "yes", keep a copy of that permission, too.

That second part pertains to any other school or place that wants to publicly use your recording, as well.

So, there you have it.  Was this solid and/or helpful and/or clear?  In keeping with my Junior High memories, I give myself a "B."

I do wish this answer was a little less like trying to get the brass to come in at the right bar of "Star Wars," but copyright, fair use, and licensing take time and attention to detail to get right.

That said, with enough passion to fuel the effort, I am confident you'll hit the right note.

[1] That was me.  I played trumpet.  And had braces. NOT a good combo.

[2] And because I have high standards.

[3] Circular 21, "Reproduction of Copyrighted Works by Educators and Librarians," which has been in use since my days playing trumpet, and arguably, could use some updating.  You can find it here: https://www.copyright.gov/circs/circ21.pdf

[4] How old? It was first contained in a joint letter written by representatives of the Music Publishers’ Association of the United States, Inc., the National Music Publishers’ Association, Inc., the Music Teachers National Association, the Music Educators National Conference, the National Association of Schools of Music, and the "Ad Hoc Committee on Copyright Law Revision" on April 30, 1976.  Of course, if I tell my younger sister that something from 1976 is "old," I'll catch hell, but fortunately, she teaches religious education, not music.

[5] A scenario such as the one depicted by the member doesn't even get any slack from educators' other great copyright reprieve: section 110.  While 110 does allow a variety of exceptions for musical performances, it doesn't extend its tolerance to recording.

[6] Something no not-for-profit educational institution should be without, since it can help your institution limit damages under Section 504 of the Copyright Act.

[7] As of January 13, 2020, YouTube maintains a list of licensed songs you can record and upload at https://www.youtube.com/music_policies?ar=1578920053089&nv=1.  And, also as of this January 13, 2020, YouTube (unlike Netflix or HULU) enables businesses to use their services (rather than restricting them for "personal" and "home" use).

[8] Insofar as I know, only YouTube does this.  But I need to get out more, and of course, this type of thing evolves quickly in cyberspace.

[9] This is different than permission to perform the musical composition!

Libraryworld: a place where people gather to discuss information, and the best ways to share it with their community.  A place where people are just as likely to discuss the "Rule of Five" as the "Rule of Three."[1]  A place where routine conversation tackles everything from new database technology, to guidelines from the now-obscure "National Commission on New Technological Uses of Copyrighted Works" (CONTU).

But since not everyone in Libraryworld knows about "The Rule of Five," let's give some background.

The "Rule of Five" pertains to guidelines for applying a very small section of 17. U.S.C 108, the law giving libraries and archives special exemptions from copyright infringement.

That's right, Section 108 of the Copyright Act sets out important exemptions from infringement for libraries and archives who are open to the public.  But since the copyright law giveth and the copyright law taketh away, this "very small section" of the law, sub-section (g)(2), cancels those exemptions if a library or archives using them:

… engages in the systematic reproduction or distribution of single or multiple copies…of material described in subsection (d)…. [emphasis added]

"Sub-section (d)" creates:

[The right to make and distribute] a copy, made from the collection of a library or archives where the user makes his or her request or from that of another library or archives, of no more than one article or other contribution to a copyrighted collection or periodical issue…[emphasis added][2]

Aha, the right to make copies of "articles" and "contributions to collections!”  Yes, 108 sub-section (d) lets you make those…either for patrons at your own library, patrons at another library, or a requesting institution.  That's a very big, and very important exception to infringement.  It is one of the cornerstones of inter-library loan collaboration. 

But how does (g)(2) limit this important right?  By prohibiting "systematic reproduction or distribution" of the content.  And what does "systematic reproduction or distribution" mean?

The law doesn't say.  And since Section 108 was adopted in 1976,[3] it still hasn't said.

That's where "CONTU" stepped in.[4]

Convened in 1977, CONTU was the "National Commission on New Technological Uses of Copyrighted Works."  In 1978, it issued "Guidelines" that attempted to provide clarity about the meaning of "systematic reproduction or distribution."

This is what they came up with:

[F]illed requests of a library or archives (a “requesting entity”) within any calendar year for a total of six or more copies of an article or articles published in such periodical within five years prior to the date of the request.

This limitation is called the "Rule of Five," since the requesting entity is limited to five copies of content less than five years old, from the same source. [5]

CONTU tried to give libraries a precise mathematical formula and documentation system for abiding within the protections of 108.  While such a precise formula can be useful, I find it more helpful to think of the "Rule of Five" in the context of another part of Section 108 (g)(2):

That nothing in this clause prevents a library or archives from participating in interlibrary arrangements that do not have, as their purpose or effect, that the library or archives receiving such copies or phonorecords for distribution does so in such aggregate quantities as to substitute for a subscription to or purchase of such work.

In other words: libraries shouldn't use 108 as a replacement for budgeting to purchase a critical magazine or journal needed at a specific location.  They shouldn't collude between institutions to strategically subscribe and then share journals to the detriment of the publisher.  BUT at the same time, when a spontaneous need arises within your area of service, and you have that magazine or journal, don't hesitate to use your network to provide a 108-sanctioned copy.   But once the same place calls you five times in a year about the same source, say "Okay…time for you to get your own subscription."

Although I did not find it in the CONTU/108 commentary, I believe this approach reveals why CONTU's limit on copies is calculated based on the requests of the "requesting entity," and not fulfillments by the lending source.  Just think of it this way: a library or archives should not hesitate to use 108 to fulfill its mission information access.  However, it should take equally great care to show it isn't using 108 to help another library, or a patron, avoid a subscription fee.  By limiting copies from a single source given to another entity to five, CONTU tried to do just that.

Okay, there's some 10,000-foot background on the "Rule of Five."  Now let's focus on the member's two questions:

1. [I]f a public library has multiple branches; can one branch request 5 articles from a single year from a journal and then another branch also requests articles from that same journal and year? Or did the first branch already use the maximum number of copies?

2. What about universities or hospital systems with multiple campuses and libraries?

Let's take a close look at these questions.  In both scenarios, the requested articles are not going to a separate entity (or as 108 and the CONTU guidelines call it, a "requesting entity); rather, the copies are going to branches of the same entity: a branch of a library, a part of a university campus, or a part of a hospital entity.

Because the copies are going to the same entity, as I see it--and insofar as actual authorities like congressional commentary, the Copyright Office, and the courts can guide me--the CONTU Guidelines do not apply to the member's scenarios.[6]  Rather, the limit of a single institution's ability to make copies for itself is defined by the (g)(2)'s more thematic bar on activities that "substitute for a subscription to or purchase of such a work," and of course, the rules of fair use.

How does this play out?  Applying our 108/CONTU background: if a hospital whose library is open to other hospitals[7] has five library suites in different buildings, and wants to put a copy in each suite, it should not apply the "Rule of Five." In fact, this type of example (except they used branch libraries) is cited by the Copyright Office's guidance as exactly not the type of activity 108 was intended to protect![8]  Rather, the hospital would do a "fair use" analysis, or use another part of 108, to make the copies it needs.[9]  Or, if there is no other way, would not make them at all.

Now, with all that said, it is important to note that the entity can make 108/CONTU copies for other "requesting entities" (users, other libraries)…so long as the other 108 criteria applies.  For instance, 108 allows me, and even up to 10 other people (or 20, or 30) to visit your library and make a copy of an article, so long as we are not part of a discernable, coordinated "scheme" like a faculty member sending all their students in to copy the same content.  Because of this, 108 is a powerful tool for information access.  And it's been that way since 1976.

Now, let's stop playing around in the 1970's, and discuss some modern features of this type of "multi-branch" dilemma.

The fact of the matter is, unless the library/university/hospital is purchasing physical copies, at this point in 2020, what might be more relevant than CONTU's "Rule of Five" is the terms of the license from the subscription service the library gains access to the copies through.  Remember, as a general rule, exemptions to copyright infringement do not trump violations of valid negotiated contract terms.  So, if a library gains access to the content through a license that limits the number of copies, it might be that the specific "Terms and Conditions"--not the CONTU Guidelines or basic copyright law--that apply.

This is why careful review of all licenses held by libraries grows more critical, year after year.  It is also why whenever possible, I advise that every license for content should have a clause expressly stating that the terms of the license do not limit the library's rights under Copyright Law Section 107, 108, and 110, and the ADA.

So, where does that leave us on the "Rule of Five?"

There's a brassy phrase people can use to reply when asked "How are you?"

"Five by five," they might say, taking a verbal saunter through (depending on which slang dictionary you use) radio talk, surfer talk, trucker talk, or the characters in a sci-fi/pop culture adventure.

What's "five by five" mean? No one really seems to know.[10]

"Five by five," and "the Rule of Five," have that in common.  Times have changed; has their meaning?

The National Commission on New Technological Uses of Copyrighted Works ("CONTU") issued its guidelines in 1978.  The Commission has not re-convened since then; in fact, in 1992, the section of the law that required periodic assessment of 108's impact on libraries, publishers, and content users was written out of the law.[11]

So here we are, drifting along, applying guidelines from 1978.  Is that "five by five?"  I don't think so.

But I'm glad Libraryworld is keeping the discussion going.

[1] The rule that celebrities die in threes, which when you think about it, is how we all die (if count long enough, and stop counting soon enough).

[2] There are of course some other criteria: there must be no knowledge of a commercial use, and the copy must become the property of the requester.

[3] Act Oct. 19, 1976, P. L. 94-553, Title I, § 101, 90 Stat 2546.

[4] Or, as some have said, stepped in it.

[5] NOTE: this guideline only applies to content within its first five years after publication.

[6] While there is some commentary about CONTU in copyright jurisprudence, there is no case law on applying these guidelines, and in any event, they do not have the force of law.

[7] NOTE: being open to outside researchers or patrons is required to even qualify for an exemption under 108.

[8] See Circular 21, page 14, paragraph 3.  When you're done wading this answer, "Circular 21," is that place to further explore the nooks and crannies of this issue.

[9] The very clear case of hospitals using fair use to routinely copy medical journals, Williams & Wilkins Co. v. United States, 203 Ct. Cl. 74, 487 F.2d 1345, 1973 U.S. Ct. Cl, was determined before 108 was adopted.  Although the medical facilities won that one, I would not advise that be done in this day and age.

[10] My money is on that it mutated from telecommunications.

[11] A Congressional Act of June 26, 1992, deleted former subsection (i) of 17 U.S.C. 108, which read: “Five years from the effective date of this Act, and at five-year intervals thereafter, the Register of Copyrights, after consulting with representatives of authors, book and periodical publishers, and other owners of copyrighted materials, and with representatives of library users and librarians, shall submit to the Congress a report setting forth the extent to which this section has achieved the intended statutory balancing of the rights of creators, and the needs of users. The report should also describe any problems that may have arisen, and present legislative or other recommendations, if warranted.”

Before sitting down to write a "one size fits all" answer, I gave the member a call to discuss this project.

What happened on the call? I can't tell you; it's confidential.  BUT, I can say that to give any advice, I had to ask the following questions:

• What years are the yearbooks from?
• Are you using portrait shots, or candid shots that might have been taken by teachers and/or students at the school?
• Are you selling the commemorative calendar?  How do people obtain a copy?
• Are you including additional information, commentary, and analysis of the photos in the calendar?
• Is there any sensitive content?

These questions were asked in order to 1) assess the if the photographs were protected by copyright; 2) assess the ability of the library to make a "fair use" defense for using them; and 3) probe for any legal sensitivities possibly related to the content.[1]

This analysis was done because yearbook projects bring up issues of not only copyright risk, but privacy and social issues.  For this reason (and because old hairstyles are eternally amusing) yearbook projects are hot right now: the focus of many digitization initiatives, and the cause of many numerous scandals-in-retrospect.

Yearbooks are also getting a good showing in copyright case law these days.  The most recent[2] is Dlugolecki v. Poppel,[3] a lawsuit over two yearbook photos of actress-turned-duchess Meghan Markle (a headshot and a group photo), taken when the future royal was in high school. 

Dlugolecki shows the "worst-case scenario" answer to the member's question.  In this case, when "Good Morning America" and other ABC shows used his photos in their coverage of Ms. Markle's rise to royalty, professional photographer John Dlugolecki sued ABC (and others). 

His claim?  That by re-using the printed yearbook photos he shot in the '90's, ABC (and others) infringed his copyright via broadcast in 2017. 

The case was brought in California and heard before the Honorable George H. Wu.  It settled[4] on December 11, 2019, but not before ABC made--and lost--a preliminary "fair use" defense.  Judge Wu, applying the fair use "four factor" analysis set by Section 107 of the Copyright Act,[5] found that even though the photos hadn't been registered by photographer Dlugolecki prior to their use by ABC, the undisputed facts of the case (his photos were clearly used in the broadcasts) could warrant a finding of infringement.

Now, a commemorative calendar by a not-for-profit library is not the "Good Morning America" show.  But as we can see in Dlugolecki, yearbook photos can get protection just like any other copyrighted medium, and re-use might not be considered fair use.   Which means that under the right circumstances (including if the copyright holder is motivated enough), a problem could arise for unauthorized use of yearbook content.

So, the answer to the member's question is: yes, there can be an issue.  Because of that, careful planning, and if possible, working with a copyright attorney, is the way to approach use and re-publication of photographs from a yearbook.

[1] I asked about “sensitive content” not to suggest it be expurgated, but to offer legal guidance on presenting it properly (although I doubt “sensitive content” would be selected for a commemorative calendar).

[2] I am writing this in January 2, 2020; my first work of the New Year!

[3] Decided in United States District Court for the Central District of California on August 22, 2019 (CV 18-3905-GW)(GJSx).

[4] Cases like this often settle.  While this is very frustrating for attorneys conducting research (who like to read findings and judicial opinions), it is no doubt lucrative for the plaintiffs, and an act of risk management for the defendants.

[5] https://www.copyright.gov/fair-use/more-info.html

Yes, I can point you in the right direction…but I can’t take credit for drawing the map!

Since it pertains to a local “Music Educators Association,” this question brought me on a pleasant journey into the chartered territory of the “New York State School Music Association,” a/k/a “NYSSMA.”

NYSSMA is the organization for school music educators in New York.  Its mission is to “advance music education across New York State for its membership and students in member school programs.” 

Like libraries, schools, and BOCES, NYSSMA is chartered by the Regents of the State of New York.  To enable meaningful participation on a local level, NYSSMA is broken into 15 zones. 

In the member’s question, it sounds like a local zone of NYSSMA is asking a local BOCES for assistance.

Since both entities are chartered by the Regents, this makes sense; it’s like your cousin asking if she can store tools in your garage.  Except in this case…you aren’t sure where your cousin got the tools.  Or who might ask to borrow them.

As the member points out, this uncertainly could be cause for concern.  This is particularly true because under copyright law, a license is required to not only duplicate music, but to perform it, so an entity providing unauthorized copies could experience more than one type of liability.

Fortunately, there are many helpful resources to address this, and the basics are set out in plain language on the page of NYSMMA’s national affiliate, the “National Association for Music Educators (“NAfME”).

On their helpful page, found at https://nafme.org/my-classroom/copyright/, NAfME outlines the basics of managing a music library for NYSSMA members. 

As stated by NAfME:

“Unlike most educators, music educators must face copyright compliance frequently throughout their career. Although the thought of copyright can be intimidating and a complex subject, NAfME has a multitude of resources that can help you better understand U.S. copyright law.”

How does an institution considering providing this service get started? Any institution considering housing a music library (or script library, or an architectural plans library, or anything that will be licensed and/or loaned under particular conditions) for another entity needs to do these three things:

            1.  Research and assess the full scope of what will be required;

            2.  When the full scope is known, develop a budget, policies, job descriptions and a contract (or term sheet) to support what is needed; and

            3.  Finalize the arrangements in a way that mitigates risk,[1] and makes the service effective and sustainable.

Since this type of analysis can reveal the complexities of what may seem like a simple service, it is not surprising to hear that at one point a fee was required for it!

As the resources on the NAfME site show, housing and managing a music library is potentially a very detailed endeavor.  And while technology has made some aspects of the tasks involved easier, any institution providing such a service will need to make it a part of someone’s job.

So, after reviewing the basics on the NAfME site, it would be good to have a forward-thinking and specific discussion that addresses the following:

• Whose property are the copies to be housed and managed?
• Are there copies of the original purchase agreements and licenses?
• How is the collection to be searched?
• How is the music loaned out?
• Who tracks copies on loan?
• What is the approach for unreturned copies?
• Who arranges for performance licenses, and who keeps copies of permission granted?
• How are new works accessioned?
• How are copies de-accessioned?
• How are damaged copies replaced?
• What is the value of the collection?
• What is the cost of the service?

In addressing these questions, it is important to note that NYSSMA has access to numerous copyright-related resources as a member of NAfME.  For instance, as noted on the NAfME “copyright” page: “Through an agreement with ASCAP and BMI, NAfME (or MEA) sponsored groups are granted performance rights of music managed by these organizations. (This covers only performances sponsored by NAfME or federated state associations of NAfME.) However, if members wish to record their students’ performance of any work, permission must be obtained through Harry Fox Agency.” 

So awareness of NYSSMA’s rights, as parties explore how they could assist with housing and managing a NYSSMA-owned collection, would be critical.  Solid and well-coordinated compliance with license terms would also be important.

I know this is just the overture to a full answer, but thank you for a well-composed question.[2]

Yes, syllabi and assignments can be protected by copyright, so long as they are of sufficient substance and originality.  

Of course, there is no precise formula for what constitutes “sufficient substance and originality.” However, a freshly-composed assignment of more than a paragraph or two should be enough to qualify for protection, and a typical syllabus—setting forth the course purpose, assignments, means of grading, and class-specific policies—should almost always qualify (even if wrapped up inside a larger institution-wide template to cover academic integrity, ADA accommodations, and grade appeal).

The trick, however, is know who—or what—owns that copyright.  Some institutions will claim ownership, since the content was generated by their faculty (a concept called “work for hire”).  But other institutions will expressly let their faculty own their work-product.  So, there is no one rule for determining ownership, and that means there is not one method for obtaining permission.

But do you need permission?  While that is always nice, in academia (just like anywhere else), not everyone is eager to have their own work assessed, and yet, there must be some way for analysis, commentary, and criticism of that work to be conducted.  Which bring us to every information professional’s favorite copyright concept: fair use.

Fair use is the ability to use copyright-protected materials for purposes of education, commentary, and criticism.  It was designed for projects like the one in this question.  But just like with determining ownership, there can be no cookie-cutter answer, for as one court put it: “Determining fair use is a mixed question of fact and law.”[1]

How can a project like the member’s address this “mixed question?” In a situation like the one presented by the member, here is a good approach:

Step 1:

Generate a careful summary or abstract of the project (which the member has done here), and the data collection methods. 

Step 2:

Consider how many copies of assignments/syllabi the project will need to make, how they will be stored, and the use your project will make of them.  If stored in hard copy, where will the copies be, how many must you create, and how will you restrict further duplication?  If digital, consider how the electronic copies will be accessed and secured, perhaps warning users on a user-limited shared drive to only use the copies for the purposes of the project, and to not disseminate them further. 

Step 3:

With all that assessed (but no copies yet made!), conduct and document a “fair use assessment,” using your institution’s policy and form for fair use (any research institution, or educational institution, should have these; for example, the great library team at Cornell has a well-developed checklist[2] for their faculty and staff to use when contemplating the use or partial use of copyright-protected materials).

Step 4:

If you determine the use will be “fair,” and decide to proceed with making only those copies you need for your project (and include only the content needed to prove your point in any final product) save the fair use assessment documentation, because under Copyright §504, a good-faith belief by a library, archives, or higher ed institution that it is making a fair use of protected materials can limit the damages in the event it is accused of infringement.[3]

So, to reiterate the answer to the core question: yes, assignments and syllabi can be protected.  But to expand from there: that protection should not be a roadblock to an academic work assessing them. While it might present a small “speed bump,” the law of fair use provides options that are consistent with good scholarship practices and rigorous inquiry.

I am curious to see your project’s conclusions.