"Content Creators and Users" -- What's in a Word?

Since leaving BigLaw to start the BrickHouse Law Group, we have spent a lot of time trying to describe our ideal clients.  Who are they?  What do they have in common with each other?

We have years of experience representing large companies in intellectual property and complex commercial litigation, but we also have worked with entrepreneurs and smaller businesses in all aspects of IP counseling.  As a small firm building its brand identity, we cannot be--and do not want to be--all things to all people.  

Ultimately, we believe our clients are best described as "Content Creators and Users" -- meaning anyone who creates, distibutes, or otherwise uses "content" in their business.  This certainly includes media, entertainment, advertising, marketing and interactive companies who create and/or use "content" protected by copyright or trademark--these clients bring their own special brand of creativity to the work they do, and they often employ or contract with creative people in the process.  Of course this can also include any business that operates a website (Hello? Everyone?), because the "content" on those websites comes from people or businesses utilizing their creative skills.

But what is "Content"? I thought I knew what I meant by that term until I read a very thought-provoking post this morning, entitled "I Hate the Word 'Content'", by Jonathan Salem Baskin on his Dim Bulb blog.  Speaking primarily to marketers and branding agencies (but also touching a much wider group of net denizens), Baskin makes a strong argument that in calling everything that goes inside the frame "content," we are collectively genericizing--and thereby reducing or even eliminating--the unique, qualitative nature and value of what is created and who is creating it.  Read the entire post, because I don't want to over-simplify it, but I think his opening paragraph states the problem well:

Calling the output of writers, musicians, moviemakers and even the artisans of branding's dark arts "content" is like referencing the substance of every meal "food," or labeling the specific events of human experience "life."

Baskin's lament about how this genericization of "content" is adversely affecting the marketing and branding industry is equally applicable in the intellectual property context. 

While it's true that short descriptive terms often aid us in understanding broader concepts--for example, it can be helpful to differentiate "content" (the product of creativity in some form) from "data" (a collection of factual information)--simply referring to all things creative as "content" can be very dangerous from an intellectual property rights perspective. 

No matter how you look at it, not all "content" is the same.  It is critically important to understand the qualitative differences in what content is being created, how it can be used, and how it can be protected. "Content" on a website, for example, may be made up of code, text and images protected by Copyright, logos or brand identities protected by Trademark, personal identities protected by Rights of Publicity or Rights of Privacy, or any combination of these.  Various and interconnected components of the same "content," therefore, might have different owners, different usage rights and different legal risks. The same is true for almost any type of "content" in almost any medium.  Geoff's Right of Publicity post on the Olivia Munn comic book fracas points out some of these nuances that are easily missed.  One simply cannot make good business decisions about the creation and use of "content" without appreciating the different creators and rights involved.

I still think it is appropriate to describe our ideal clients as "Content Creators and Users."  In the limited context in which we use the word, I think it fits.  However, Baskin's post serves as a good reminder that "Content" is just a surface word -- the value is in what lies underneath. 

The End of Lawyers? Or the Beginning of a Better Practice?

How cool is the internet?  Seriously. 

Thanks to Twitter, I started following Jordan Furlong (@jordan_law21),an Ottowa-based attorney who blogs about the evolution of our profession at Law 21.ca.  He recently tweeted about a blog post by Neil Denny (@NeilDenny), from Bath, England, who describes himself as a "collaborative lawyer".  From there, I discovered Neil's great blog, Lawyer1point9.  If you haven't been there, take the trip -- it's worth it.

While at Neil's blog, I discovered a lengthy post he wrote last year entitled "The End of Lawyers and the Power of Po."  Wow.  A commentary on Richard Susskind's book "The End of Lawyers" -- which many have seen as a doom-inducing diatribe on the woes of an archaic legal profession -- Neil suggests instead that Susskind's book should be a starting point for discussing the potentialities of a new way of practicing law.

I can't do it justice in this post, so please go read the entire piece, but suffice to say that I find myself in full agreement with Neil's basic point:

"We can choose to keep on doing what we have always done, and justify our self-deception with passionate, strident arguments as to why possible changes will not affect us. Or we can choose to engage in the debate, to read, or hear Susskind out, and consider how the arguments might impact us, our law firms, and yes, even our very jobs and livelihoods."

There is no denying the situation we find ourselves in as a profession — law firms are laying off partners and associates while they continue to raise rates, law schools continue to churn out new lawyers with staggering amounts of debt but without much promise of a good-paying job, and clients are increasingly skeptical of the uncertainty that clouds much of the cost of obtaining legal services.

I heartily agree that the response to this situation cannot be to ignore or downplay it. Rather, we need to use it as a starting point for the next conversation — the one that starts with “What now?”

We can believe in the importance of the law and the value of good legal advice without being wedded to an outdated model for delivering our services.  We can't go back to the way things were, and frankly, we shouldn't want to.  How we go forward, however, is open to lots of debate.  Let's get started.

And thanks, Jordan and Neil, for helping to point the way.

Welcome to The Anchor Plate

Anchor Plate: a metal plate fastened to the exterior of a brick building with a washer or tie rod to reinforce structural support, usually decorative.

The Anchor Plate: a virtual gathering place for dialogue about the nature of practicing intellectual property law, to increase knowledge and to amuse.

 

Well. It's great to be back in the blogosphere again.  When you last heard from us, we were biglaw IP litigation partners and co-authors of Owners, Borrowers & Thieves 2.0, a fine blog (if we do say so ourselves) about IP litigation in the 21st Century.  (Our good friend, the great Dave Rein, now steers that ship more ably than we ever did -- and he was nice enough to leave our old posts up, too!)

Things change, however.  If you've followed the legal industry at all in the last 18 months, you know that some things have changed dramatically.  Last fall, Geoff Gerber and I left our long-time jobs as partners in a large St. Louis law firm to start our own boutique intellectual property, media and entertainment law firm.  We did it for a lot of reasons, most of them good (we think).  Ultimately, we just wanted to practice law differently (much more on that later).  So now you can find us at The BrickHouse Law Group.  And you can find us here, at The Anchor Plate

We hope to be valued participants in the dialogue -- good listeners as well as good contributors -- and we expect to have guest authors from time to time as well.  We'll cover some familiar territory (fair use, copyright and parody, IP litigation, comic books, for example), but we'll also reach out into some dynamic new areas, such as open-price lawyering, cloud computing and social media, to name a few. 

As with any new venture, we expect some twists and turns in the road ahead -- that's half the fun of driving.  We hope you'll find it worthwhile to join us on the journey.