On Shelton: blogging to understand

Ted Shelton continues to do web logging credit in his careful and fair reply to my reply to … well you get the picture. And more importantly, he does this space credit for his patience in waiting for a reply. I apologize for the delay, but because his last post has helped me understand and frame this a bit better, the conversation continues.

First, let’s get rid of a point on which there is absolutely no disagreement. I had said the ultimate question is what system would create the best incentives to “create and spread knowledge.” Ted adds to this that in his view, there is an important “economic objective” built into that. I absolutely agree. The very best thing that copyright does (in my view) is enable small creators (coders as well as writers) to operate independently of patrons by giving them an economic incentive to create. But for copyright, many of these creators would only create as commissioned. This is one of the great points made by Neil Netanel in a long but wonderful piece in the Yale Law Journal, and it is an important point for those of us perceived to be “anti copyright” to repeat again and again.

I, in fact, would go further than Ted about this. It’s not just, as he says, paraphrasing Churchill, that capitalism is “the worst form of incentive, except for all the rest.” I would say it is positively great — so long as balanced by other sources of creativity, and balanced in the traditional ways. So here, at least, unless Ted wants to go pinko on me, we have complete agreement.

Ted’s second point does require me to state more clearly the kind of regime I imagine. I had said we shouldn’t give “copyright protection” to code unless a copy of the source code was deposited with the copyright office, and that after the term expired, that source code would then be made available to the world. If the coder didn’t like this trade (protection in exchange for the creation after the term expired), then I said the coder could rely upon trade secret law to protect his code. That, I said, was close to the offer patent law makes: In exchange for a limited term monopoly (20 years) the inventor must describe his invention clearly enough so that others could copy it. The difference is that my scheme hides the description for 10 years, while the patent system makes it available 18 months after the patent is applied for. (Thanks to David Makman for correcting my careless mistake).

Ted replies that “without the legal status of property,” however, this is no real option, because the code protected by trade secret law could still be “endlessly copied … with no need for access to the” source code. And hence, even if the source code were protected, there would be no protection for the real value of the program.

Agreed. But we could hammer out a real agreement if we could give up this word “property” for a moment. All “property” is simply a bundle of rights associated with a particular rights holder and a particular object, whether virtual or real. These rights differ radically across “properties,” and it is therefore sometimes misleading to speak of them as if they are the same. Thus, e.g., a patent, like a toy pony, is a form of “property” in the sense that with both, the owner gets to decide under which terms to alienate the property, and if someone invades that property right without the owner’s permission, there is hell to pay. But a patent is obviously a very different kind of “property” from a toy pony because after 20 years, the property is automatically the public’s, but after 20 years, a toy pony is still private.

So, without using the often-misleading-word “property,” here’s how we might restate where I believe there should be agreement. I would still not give “copyright” protection except upon the deposit of the source code. But note, “copyright” protection protects against much more than simple copying, and it is that larger bundle of rights that I would deny a coder unless the source code were deposited.

I would allow the coder the protection of trade secret law, and it may well make sense to supplement that protection with a protection against mechanical reproduction of the digital object — such that the effective protection was against simply duplicating the code and distributing it free of any restriction. That would give the coder a real choice (between copyright and trade secret law) but also give the public something more for the more extensive set of rights that copyright law provides.

This twist to what I said before may mean we should balance the rights a bit differently still. This “mechanical duplication” right need not run long, and should not run as long as the copyright. But these are details for experts with slide rulers, not me.

Ted’s third point I’m not sure we can yet agree upon. He insists there’s a difference in kind between the state giving away the source code for a product, and the state giving away the knowledge necessary to make the product. The second is what happens when a patent expires; Ted insists that’s different from what would happen if the state also gave away the source code.

I still disagree. Though I’ve made a career insisting that the digital is importantly different, I don’t think it’s different here.

Ted nicely illustrates his point with an analogy to the cotton gin. He says, “all of the algorithms needed to create a spreadsheet would be the equivalent of the information needed to build a cotton gin. But the implementation, the source code, IS the cotton gin itself. Requiring the software developer to give away the source code is the equivalent of the government giving away a complete working cotton gin to everyone who wants one once Whitney’s patent expires.”

I guess I don’t see what is supposed to follow from this analogy.

One follow-on might be “and this would be bad because it would destroy the ability of the coder to continue to sell the product at all.” If that’s the point, then the same point could be made about many patents. And anyway, what’s the harm from that? The inventor got his monopoly; the public now gets a free resource which before it had to pay for.

But in any case, I don’t believe this would follow for most code anyway. Sure, giving away the source code enables anyone to simply release the product. But that in turn creates an incentive for everyone to invent a better implementation of the product. And as each “derivative” work would be entitled to its own protection, the incentive to improve would be rewarded as well.

So what, Ted, am I missing here? And are we agreed on points 1 and 2?

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answering (e) mail

I’ve just finished replying to the more than 500 emails I received about the Eldred case. Despite my con-law musings, it is extraordinarily hard to read these emails without a profound sense of just what’s at stake. Missive after missive describes the burden of the existing system, and how 20 more years of control will stifle creative work. These half-a-thousand emails should be worth one word at least — REVERSED.

In a bunch of these emails, however, there were two recurring questions that I wanted to clarify.

1790?

Following a comment to my account, a bunch of people asked why it was so clear that the 1790 statute did not support the government’s case. I had said that of all the questions in this case, this one I was “100% certain” of. If the 1790 Act “extended” copyrights, why isn’t it precedent for CTEA?

The reason is this: CTEA extended copyright terms in exchange for nothing from the companies and authors who benefit from the extension. It is an extension without a “quid-pro-quo” — the authors giving something in exchange for something they get. As we argued, and the government simply ignored, in 1790, many would have believed that they had a common law copyright (perpetual) as well as any state statutory copyright. The effect of giving them the benefit of the federal right was to terminate this state right. IN EXCHANGE FOR the federal right, they gave up a state right. The 1790 Act thus fits the “quid pro quo” requirement in a way the CTEA does not.

But, as one person emailed, the SG said that the Supreme Court held in 1834 that there was no common law copyright. True enough. But that doesn’t resolve at all what the people who passed the 1790 Act thought. We are not arguing that they, in 1790, necessarily believed there was a common law copyright. Just that they thought it uncertain, and believed they were terminating any rights that existed then in exchange for the federal right.

But, as another careful reader asked, what about the Patent Act (from 1793) that the government pointed to? Didn’t that show that the Copyright Act of 1790 did not require a “quid pro quo”? For that statute expressly required the surrender of a patent to get the benefit of the federal act. True enough again. But there is zero authority for the idea that a state right survived after the act of 1790. The same case in 1834 holds as much. The statutes may well be different but the effect was identical: both terminated state rights and gave a federal right in exchange.

1st Amendment claims?

A bunch asked whether the First Amendment claim is dead, or whether we had given it up, or had it taken away. The answer is clearly “No.” Again, there are certain questions we wanted to focus on at the oral argument; we would have been happy never to even mention the First Amendment. That’s not because that claim is not alive and crucial to our case, but instead because it is, or should be, clear enough when they think through the mechanics of the case. If we prevail on the copyright clause claim, then there is no need for them to reach the First Amendment claim. If we don’t prevail on the copyright claim, then they must reach the First Amendment. But when they get to that step in their thinking, it will be extremely hard for them to avoid applying ordinary First Amendment analysis to this statute. (Justice O’Connor said she thought it was odd to think of a law passing under the copyright clause, but failing under the first amendment. But the government concedes this possibility — if the law removed, say, fair use — so the only real question is how the First Amendment should police changes in term.) If they apply “definitional balancing” which is how the Harper case is framed, then the question will be how “definitional balancing” applies to changes in copyright terms, and as the author of definitional balancing said, “definitional balancing” should invalidate retrospective changes in terms. And if they apply ordinary First Amendment intermediate scrutiny, then there is no presumptive pro-speech benefit that could outweigh the burden on speech. Either way, the First Amendment stands as an effective backstop to the copyright clause argument. But as that argument is narrow, and more easily cabined to just changes in terms, we expect, if we prevail, that’s where the Court will decide it.

Again, thanks to all who wrote in support of the case and with kind words for what has been done. Even the one defender of Mickey was polite in his strong opposition.

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the spirit of disney

It is wonderful to see that the spirit of my hero, Walt Disney, still lives at that amazing company. See their latest work drawn from the public domain. Creativity the way it was meant to be.

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an environment for software

Dave’s valid call for more and different software to cycle us out of Andy Grove’s “Valley of Death” reminds me of a favorite interview that helped me write my last book. Marc Andreessen described the environment in which innovation flourished in the valley — when the platform for innovation was neutral, and innovators did not fear the power of others to crush their innovation. Power in the software market was Andreessen’s concern. Power in the content market drives much of Markoff’s. But the point in both cases is the same: give the past a veto over the future, and the future will be vetoed.

I don’t have the full interview typed up, but here’s the chapter from the book. Marc’s stuff begins on page 265.

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brewster’s brilliance

Herein the difference between a brilliant mind and a lawyer’s mind. While we brought a law suit, Brewster built a bookmobile. A public domain bookmobile, which he drove across the country to show the value of the public domain in a tangible, and unmistakable, way. Richard Korman has written an excellent account of this perfect way to make the Eldred point.

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the right question

Long before I downloaded Mosaic 1.0, my obsession was constitutional law. It still is. If there is one intellectual passion that has lived the longest in my life, it is how a country makes sure its constitution lives. I spent many years studying the emerging democracies in the former soviet republics. I spent many years writing about how our Court can best protect our constitutional values over time. This, it turns out, is an extraordinarily hard question, for which we have no good answer.

So as a constitutionalist, I must confess that the greatest part of this debate about Eldred is that it has now become framed — at least in the public space — as a debate about what the appropriate role of the Supreme Court is. This is precisely the right question to ask, as the Washington Post’s very smart editorial asks it. As Eldred’s attorney, it is of course my role to say that the answer is easy, and indeed, the nice thing about picking one’s cases is that the proper answer in my role is the answer I genuinely believe. There has been great controversy about the Court’s intervention in the context of federalism, but as I firmly believe, there should be no similar controversy in the context of the Copyright Clause (again, the text is clear, and the Court unanimously has affirmed that the text is a grant of power and a limitation).

But however the Court resolves this case, it will be teaching us something important about what a constitution means: either that the Court can interpret express limits to give them effect (and hence my clients win), or that the Court interprets the limits on its own power such that there is only so much it can do to police a Congress out of control (and hence, a principle of judicial restraint wins). I, of course, prefer giving the constitution’s limits effect over a restraint that defeat the constitution’s aim. But either way, these are results of principle, not politics. As one person emailed me, either result “reaffirms something important and good” of at least this part of our government.

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taiwan says no

P01-students1012.jpg This is an amazing story of activism and political will. Lots to learn from this amazing nation.

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from the front line

So there’s an extraordinary (and extraordinarily interesting) range of reporting about the argument before the Court. As I was on the front line, let me add a bit more. My hope in doing this is to put this in a bit of context, and to highlight at least what we should be looking for. (EV predicts a 6-3 victory, which is significant, because he and I have a bet, and he took the other side.)

Aaron reports Brewster’s statement to him that “it was a dance for which I don’t know the steps.” That’s close. I think the better analogy for someone viewing an oral argument for the first time is the first time you see a cricket match. There are some moves you are certain you know are bad (a swing and a miss); but there’s lots that plays into something you can’t quite get till you know the context of the game. Here, then, the context of the game, as well as the moves from last Wednesday.

the aim

Our aim from the start was to get this Court to view this case in the same frame that they viewed another important line of cases limiting Congress’s power — the commerce clause. In those cases, the Court has said, ours is a constitution of enumerated powers (i.e., the only powers congress has are the powers the constitution gives it); it follows that Congress’s power must therefore be interpreted in a way that is limited; in the context of the Commerce Power, the government had argued for a standard (Congress can regulate anything that “affects” interstate commerce) that essentially meant it had no limit; therefore, in a line of cases beginning with Lopez, the Court said we need a different interpretation of “commerce” that actually recognizes limits. Limits, not control of Congress’s discretion. Congress has discretion within the limits set by the constitution; but it has no discretion over what, or where, the limits sit.

We want the Court to think in the same way about the Copyright Clause. As Judge Sentelle argued in dissent in the Court of Appeals, the Copyright Clause too is an enumerated power. It too therefore must have limits. But under the government’s interpretation of that clause, “limited times” has no limits. Under its interpretation, Congress has a perpetual power to extend subsisting terms. Thus, under the Lopez-line of reasoning, that interpretation must be wrong. Instead, we wanted the court to adopt one of the plain meanings of the term “limited” (limited as in limited edition print) that would also produce an effective limit on Congress’s power (that it could not extend existing terms) and would also achieve the ends that the framers sought to achieve (no continuing incentive of Congress to reward, as the Supreme Court said in Graham, “court favorites,” but instead to create an incentive for “new” creativity only).

Now that strategy was controversial from the start, especially because some of our natural allies (Stevens, Souter, Breyer) were so strongly opposed to the Lopez line of cases. But our call early on in this case was that they could be brought around to see that even if they oppose the results in Lopez, there was no reason to oppose the same reasoning in this case. Indeed, they could use this case to show why they were right in Lopez: They could argue that unlike the Copyright Clause, the Commerce Clause has no express limitation built into it; unlike the Copyright Clause, the limit the Court has found is wholly implied; thus, they could say, it is not appropriate to imply limits where not expressed. But, they could also say, where a limit is plainly express (as it is in the copyright clause, which is one of only six clauses in Article I, sec. 8 (the part of the constitution with the core grants of power to Congress) that expressly limits a grant of power (the others are clauses 1, 12, 15, 16, 17)), then it is appropriate for the Court to find a way to enforce those limits. In other words, they could write, “for the reasons given in Lopez, you were wrong in Lopez, but it would be right to limit Congress here.”

the fear

The greatest fear we had about this strategy (beyond the backfiring point) was that it all presupposed that the Court got it. It presupposed that the Court understood the problem with extensions of existing terms; that it understood the harm that would do to the internet, and the ability of people to build on the internet; that it saw the law as useless. And before the argument we struggled over and over again with how best to focus the Court on the costs, if in fact they didn’t get it.

the argument

(1) The most important first indication that was absolutely clear from the argument is that our fear was misplaced. The Court clearly got it. Though the other side had written literally 300 pages trying to show all the good CTEA did (and pronounce it like it is a disease — sateeeya), the Court hadn’t bought any of it. Congress was not acting to promote progress, it was acting to reward “court favorites.” The only question the Court was struggling with is whether it has the power to do anything about it.

Now pause for a second to think about how important and good this struggle is. First: It is a rare but valuable exercise for any branch of government to worry about the scope of its own power. And the greatest virtue the Court exercises is the virtue of self-restraint. This is a reason to respect the Court, not criticize it (though how they exercise their restraint, or where, can be criticized, as I suggest below). But the general idea that it will restrain itself, despite believing a law is stupid, is a feature, not a bug in our constitutional tradition.

And second: that they are struggling with this question of restraint means they clearly get the problem. They are motivated to do the right thing; they are resisting the right thing for the right reasons. Both sides are good.

(2) Though it took some hammering, they clearly understood by the end of my argument the dynamic of the argument that we were making. I said, over and over again, that we were advancing an interpretation of “limited times” that had the virtue of actually imposing limits, because otherwise the clause would have no limits. The aim, and I think effect, was to repeat this idea so many times that they had in their heads a simple picture: There was a way to read “limited” so that Congress would not have unlimited power.

Thus, for example, when I said that limited should be read like “limited edition print,” Justice Souter interrupted to say that this was a different kind of case (not a contract, etc.), and I said, yes, but we are simply showing you that there is a plain meaning of the term “limited” that actually produces a limit. He’s a very careful justice; he got the point, as did the court by the end. That’s not to say he bought it, but he clearly gets the dynamic of the argument: if you believe you must impose a limit on Congress’s power, here’s a way to impose that limit.

(3) The government then helped us immensely by simply confirming what we had said: under their theory of the case, there was no constitutional limit on Congress’s power to extend terms; it was always a matter of Congress’s discretion. Congress could perpetually extend existing terms; it could even extend a copyright to works within the public domain.

The Court clearly did not like this answer. They had bought the idea that the Constitution intended there to be a limit; the government’s interpretation meant that this was a limit that was solely a matter of legislative grace. (Compare: “Under our written Constitution the limitation of congressional authority is not solely a matter of legislative grace.”) They were not comfortable with the idea that they would simply say that though the constitution expressly limits Congress’s power, it is Congress that gets to say what that limit is.

(4) This gave me the opening I wanted in the rebuttal to say: On the government’s view, the Copyright Clause means Congress has total discretion; but that is plainly inconsistent with 125 years of Supreme Court authority. The very first time the Supreme Court ever struck down a law of Congress because it exceeded a particular grant of power in Article I, sec. 8, was in 1879 in a Copyright Clause Case. Since that time, the Court has repeatedly and unanimously imposed limits on Congress’s power in the name of Copyright Clause. All of those limits so far have been implied limits. The Court has held that of all the “authors” and “writings” that might be granted copyright, only those that are “original” are allowed copyright; and it has held that of all the inventions or writings that can get patent or copyright protection, only works that are not in the public domain can get the benefit of the copyright and patent clause protection. Both of these limits are implied. Yet here, with the only express limit on Congress’s Copyright Clause power, the government was arguing that in effect, the limit was limitless. This, I argued, is fundamentally inconsistent with this 125 year history, and shows the government must be wrong in its view.

(5) Finally, the government’s repeated invocation of the “delicate balance” that Congress has struck became too much to ignore by the end. My final point before the Court is ultimately the most compelling politically, though not directly relevant to the constitutional argument: Under the current term of 95 years, under the most conservative assumptions about royalty income and interest rates, the current term gives authors 99.8% of the value of a perpetual term. Put differently, the current “delicate balance” between author and the public is 99.8% to the author, .2% to the public. (Check out footnote 6, page 6 of the economists’ brief if you want to do the numbers.)

after thoughts and advice on interpretation (read: clues on the game)

Lots of people have made tons of noise about what the court asked questions about and what it did not ask questions about. In my experience, this is not an indicator of anything. One hour is an extraordinarily small amount of time to consider the issues in this case. They ask question about things that need to be discussed. They let go things that they get from the briefs. When I clerked, oral argument was irrelevant to 90% of the cases; that is because they do their work based on the writing, and unlike most branches of government, they actually do their work.

That said, there was lots I was unhappy we didn’t get more of a chance to discuss. Here’s an enumeration of what’s open and what we’ve got to win.

(1) 1790 Act: We lose if they are not careful about the interpretation of the 1790 Act. We need the originalists; we therefore need to defeat the government’s claim that “CTEA = the 1790 Act.” The arguments here are not even close if you pay attention to the history. It is simply and absolutely false to say that the 1790 Act “undoubtedly extended existing terms” as the government says. The 1790 Act (1) did not extend any term (since there was no federal term before 1790); (2) it did not, on balance, effectively extend existing terms (because the law at the time included both state common law and statutory law granting copyrights, and while it may have extended the term of the works protected by the state statutes, it shortened the term of works protected under the common law); and finally (3) even for works protected under the state statute, 3 states expressly stated they didn’t mean their statute to displace the common law. Thus, it is more likely the 1790 Act shortened, not lengthened, terms.

That conclusion is supported by the numbers reported by William Maher. He actually counted the number of copyrights granted to works published before 1790. Of the 21,000 works published between 1790 and 1800, we have record of just 699 copyrights. Of the 699 copyrights, only 12 are for works published before 1790. Of the 12, 5 are for works protected by state statute. The remaining 7 were presumptively protected by the common law. Thus, of the records we have, the majority of terms were plainly shortened, rather than lengthened. And the clearest reading of what the framers thought they were doing was simply moving to a new federal regime, and ending the continuing effect of the old state regime.

We need to win this point. Of all the arguments in this case, it is the only one that I am 100% certain of (the rest I’m at 99.8%). But it wasn’t discussed much, which creates lots of anxiety.

(2) The Lopez-Eldred link: The other point that seemed lost on the Chief Justice was that this was a Lopez case — or more importantly, it was a Lopez-plus case. If the Commerce Clause must be interpreted to imply limits, then the Copyright Clause must be interpreted to give effect to express limits. There is no principled way to distinguish them, except to say that between the two, it is the Copyright Clause that more clearly demands judicial enforcement of its limits. Yet the Chief Justice (author of Lopez and this line of authority) didn’t seem to recognize the link. If it is not made, then again, we lose. Yet of all the parts of this that will be hardest to accept, it would be a decision that is inconsistent in just this way that would be worst. What possible reason of principle could there be for restricting Congress when it comes to federalism interests, but not when it comes to the public domain, except the ugly reasons? For someone who must teach constitutional law every year, this is the part I fear most.

(3) Which Bright Line: Justices Souter and Scalia were trying to figure out which bright line made most sense: that Congress can’t restore copyright to works in the public domain, or that Congress can’t extend the term of existing copyrights. The obvious question which no one asked is: Why do we expect works will be allowed to pass into the public domain again? Look at the pattern:

The effect of term extension is to toll (stop) the passing of works into the public domain. In the first 100 years of the republic, the public domain was tolled like this for only 14 years (14%). In the next 50 years, the public domain was tolled for 14 years again (28%). But when CTEA expires, the public domain will have been tolled for 39 out of 55 years, or 70% of the time since 1962. If the Supreme Court says ok to this, then why would anyone expect 70% won’t become 100%? The line that says Congress can’t restore copyrights to works in the public domain may be bright, but it is in a very dim world indeed.

final thoughts

I am obviously extremely happy with where we are. The Court is struggling with the right issue; they are motivated to get the right answer; they have a clear and simple way to give the right answer; the government has made it very hard to accept its answer. It is always hard to get the Court to strike a law of Congress, but this law is so universally flawed, and the case against it is so universally strong, that I continue to be confident that the Court could choose to strike the law.

I am obviously also unhappy with those “swings-and-a-miss” that happened in the argument. As I said before the argument, if we win it will be because 4 years of activism by many many people have changed the public’s view about the importance of these issues. But as someone who believes this the rare case where the law, properly and carefully read, yields one right answer, there is no way I will ever be able to escape the thought that if we lose, it is because I am not the advocate that some could have been. It is the particular hell for lawyers that after an argument, we live in the purgatory of constantly reliving the argument. Every night since Wednesday I have awoken in the middle of the night, to spend the rest of the night reanswering Justice Ginsburg, or asking Chief Justice Rehnquist just how he could distingiush Commerce from Copyright. The kind words of so many notwithstanding, I know and have always known I am not Larry Tribe, or Kathleen Sullivan. And if, after getting this so close to the right result, I have lost this by not being them, then I am not quite sure how I will live with that fact.

So please, no more of the bullshit about “rockstars” or “visionary.” I’ve lived this struggle every moment of the last 4 years; it will take a long time for me to escape it, especially if we don’t prevail. I want to turn my head elsewhere, and my heart elsewhere too. So I apologize if I don’t follow up on this, or the arguments this might begin. Please, in the spirit of the best of this sphere, carry these argument along, and correct the many mistakes I have made. But I need a night when the limits of this lawyer don’t keep this lawyer awake.

I am grateful to an extraordinary number of people, most importantly, Eric Eldred, but also the hundreds who have worked on this case, the people, like Lisa, who slept out at the court to watch this argument, and Brewster who drove across the country to teach the lessons — too many to count. If we have won, it is your work that has made this happen. That the press chooses to focus differently does not change that fact. At least this space can speak the truth about this fact.

Peace, quiet, and may terms be limited.

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keeping focus

Tomorrow the Supreme Court will hear arguments in Eldred v. Ashcroft. In the past weeks, and especially the past week, I’ve received an extraordinary amount of mail, ranging from wishes of good luck, to demands that I “win.” And as well has the press been extraordinary. (Check out Google’s cool new service for a list. Even Declan is reporting the story, if only to report that the Ayn Rand Institute has pronounced me a Marxist (along with Milton Friedman, Ronald Coase, James Buchanan and Phyllis Schlafly I assume.)).

When we brought this case 4 years ago, there were many allies who said that there was no way we could win. The reason they were right four years ago is that the world did not yet see how important these issues are, and just what’s at stake. In four years, that has changed. Not because we brought this case, or because of anything I’ve done in this case, but because of an extraordinary number of people who have been pushing to make this issue understandable.

It is extremely hard to win a case like this. I have given it everything I have, and I believe we are right, and have a good shot in showing it. But the important lesson from the attention this case is getting now is this: There is an extraordinary passion and energy out there for the ideals that Eric Eldred and others represent, and that if we do something to push these ideas, we can have an effect.

Thank you for the extraordinary outpouring of support. But please, regardless of what happens here, let us not lose the momentum. Freeing culture is what our framers did; we can do it again, regardless of what 5 justices on the Supreme Court say.

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extremely funny parody

of my Red Herring piece by a favorite boy genius.

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