Trademark

Who Owns Taco Tuesday?

Did you know that every time you say “Taco Tuesday,” you’re using someone’s trademark?

At least for right now… But a new legal petition is looking to change that. In May, Mexican fast-food behemoth Taco Bell filed a proceeding with the United States Patent and Trademark Office (“USPTO”) against Taco John’s, a Wyoming-based fast-food chain that, unbeknownst to the average burrito lover, actually trademarked the phrase “Taco Tuesday” way back in 1989. 

Taco Bell’s petition is a rare work of legal writing — written, at times, in colloquial English, it has moments where it’s even pretty funny. One extract: “People like tacos on Tuesday. They just do. It’s even fun to say: ‘Taco Tuesday.’ Tacos have the unique ability to bring people together and bring joy to their lives on an otherwise mediocre day of the week.” (For another great example of this kind of “brand voice” legal writing, see this Netflix cease and desist letter.) In support of its campaign, Taco Bell has even enlisted LeBron James, who himself tried to trademark the phrase “Taco Tuesday” in 2019, but had his application rejected because the USPTO found the term to be too common to serve as a trademark. 

Suffice it to say that Taco John’s, which currently owns the trademark for “Taco Tuesday” in every state except New Jersey (don’t ask; that’s a topic for another blog post), is not amused. It responded to Taco Bell’s petition to cancel its trademark by noting, among other things, that Taco Bell is not seeking to cancel Taco John’s trademark in order to bring people happiness, but rather “in an effort to sell more tacos.” 

In a statement released by Taco Bell, James — the NBA’s all-time leading scorer and self-appointed taco promoter — said, “‘Taco Tuesday’ is a tradition that everyone should be able to celebrate. All restaurants, all families, all businesses — everybody…it’s a celebration that nobody should own.”

Taco John’s will probably lose the right to prevent others from using the phrase “Taco Tuesday” because, as the USPTO pointed out in connection with James’ application, the phrase has become ubiquitous and, as such, has lost its ability to function as a trademark. This is what’s called “genericide,” when trademarks cease to be associated with a brand and the brand loses its rights. 

However this spicy little kerfuffle pans out, it’s a lesson in what trademark owners should and can do to prevent genericide from happening to them (NB: the following tips may be most productively read while enjoying a chalupa supreme): 

  1. Keep in mind the purpose of a trademark. Trademarks are intended to indicate the source of a good or service. When, for example, the Xerox Corporation started making photocopiers, the intent was that a consumer who saw the word “Xerox” on a copy machine would know that the machine was made by the Xerox Corporation and not some other manufacturer like Pitney Bowes. 
  2. Use your mark as a trademark and make sure others do too. Problems arise when a trademark is used to describe the thing or the service itself instead of a specifically-branded thing or service. For example, Xerox ran into trouble when consumers started using the word “Xerox” to refer to both the process of copying a document and the copied document itself, instead of a machine made by Xerox or a copy made by a Xerox machine. Once upon a time, the company addressed this through a clever ad campaign informing consumers “when you use ‘Xerox’ the way you use ‘aspirin,’ we get a headache.” (This was a clever play on the fact that “aspirin” was once a brand name but became generic.) Their goal was to get people to use the word “photocopy” instead of “Xerox,” and while the impact on conversation in the copy room is certainly debatable, Xerox maintained its trademark.
  3. Have a generic noun ready to go. When you develop your trademark make sure you have a generic noun to be used with the trademark when communicating your brand to consumers, competitors, and the media. For example, Xerox is careful to say “Xerox photocopiers,” not “Xeroxes.”
  4. Enforce your rights. It’s great to get a trademark, but that’s just half of the battle. If a trademark ceases to be associated solely with the company that owns it, the mark no longer identifies the source of the goods or services. This means that to keep a trademark, the party that owns it has to constantly stop others from using its trademark and not wait for years until someone disputes their right to it. Stopping others can be through sending cease and desist letters, bringing an action to enforce trademark rights, or opposing efforts by another company to register a similar trademark.
  5. Use the Ⓡ symbol. This lets others know that a word or a phrase has been registered as a trademark. But remember: if the word or phrase hasn’t been registered as a trademark with the USPTO, you can’t use the Ⓡ symbol.
  6. Keep detailed records. This includes records of your  advertising costs, revenue figures, and unsolicited press mentions, all of which help to prove “acquired distinctiveness.” 

However the taco case turns out, rest easy knowing nothing can stop us from eating tacos on Tuesday . . . or on any other day.

Artificial Intelligence on Trial

The last few months have seen an explosion in chatter about AI, specifically, freely available AI chatbots and apps like ChatGPT, DALL-E-2, Soundful and more that can create text, images, and music in response to prompts entered by a user. Internet forums are overflowing with examples of people using these apps to create “a love song that sounds like it was played by the Beatles in 1966” or “a painting of a three-legged horse in the style of Picasso” or “a 2,000-word story about colonizing the moon by Ernest Hemingway.” ChatGPT is already the fastest-growing app of all time and, naturally, people fear these AIs will quickly replace actual humans for the creation of commercial art and entertainment. We’re also starting to see some lawsuits involving AI-generated art infringing on copyrights. Everything is pretty much at the complaint stage, so there’s not too much to report on — yet. With that said, what follows are some of the places where I think we’re going to see legal battles. 

Before diving into the legal issues, it’s worth taking a step back and thinking about how AI works. At a high level, AI platforms take in a ton of information and “learn” patterns about that information. Show an AI a coffee cup, and it “knows” what a coffee cup is. “Feed” it a banana, and it can create another banana in any color or pattern a user asks of it. Everything an AI can do begins from something that already exists.

Ok. On to the legal issues that will have to be sorted out by creators or, ultimately, in the courts.

  1. How similar is the output of an AI platform to the material it was trained on? If it’s too close, the output could be infringing. On the other hand, if the output is based on unprotectable components, then there’s no infringement. However, the line between copyrighted and unprotected is not always clear. 
  2. Do AI platforms need to license the underlying materials used to create a new image or song to avoid claims of copyright infringement? In order for an AI platform to review information, it needs to make a copy of it. If work being used as a basis for an AI-generated product is copyrighted (or copyrightable), unless the platform has obtained a license, the act of copying may be infringing. 
  3. If AI imitates an artist, does the output infringe on the artist’s right of publicity which, in some states, extends to an artist’s persona?
  4. What happens if the output from an AI platform includes a trademark? It’s not hard to imagine AI creating works that include trademarks. One doubts trademark owners will be happy about this. 
  5. Sometimes the AI platforms are just wrong or false. These statements could be defamatory, but who is legally responsible? The platform, or the person who gave the platform the prompts? 

We’ll follow the action here as it unfolds. 

The “Metabirkin” Decision: That Ain’t Art

Following up on an earlier blog post, on February 2, 2023, the Court in Hermès’ trademark suit against the artist known as Mason Rothschild issued a decision explaining his denial of both parties’ motions for summary judgment. If you want a refresher about this case, you can find the earlier blog post here 

On February 8, 2023, after an eight-day trial, a federal jury found in favor of Hermès and awarded the fashion company $133,000 in damages. Fundamentally, the jury decided the digital images were not art, not protected by the First Amendment and, as such, subject to trademark laws. This is an important case as it is the first trial to look at trademark infringement and NFTs. 

Let’s dig into both decisions. 

     The Judge’s Order 

There are a couple of interesting elements in the judge’s decision. 

Hermès argued that Rothschild’s work was devoid of any artistic value because he could at any time replace the digital images of fake fur bags with other images. According to Hermès, this meant the term “MetaBirkins” referred to the NFTs and not the digital images themselves. Judge Jed Rakoff rejected this’ argument, finding that potential consumers believed they were purchasing ownership of the digital image, not just the NFT. Therefore, he concluded that the term “Metabirkin” “should be understood to refer to both the NFT and the digital image with which it is associated.”

Judge Rakoff also (again) concluded that this case was governed by Rogers v. Grimaldi because Metabirkins originated, at least in part, “as a form of artistic expression,” and the fact that Rothschild may have also had commercial motives didn’t remove First Amendment protections.

In rejecting the parties’ motions for summary judgment, the judge held that a jury needed to decide whether Rothschild viewed the Metabirkins project as primarily one of artistic expression or whether, as Hermès, argued, his motives were purely pecuniary and he fabricated the claim of artistic expression in order to seek refuge in the First Amendment.

The judge also noted that the Second Circuit Court of Appeals hadn’t provided a lot of guidance as to what “artistically relevant,” as used in Rogers, means. Despite this, the judge concluded that the central inquiry in determining whether something is “artistic” is whether “the trademark was used to mislead the public about the origin of the product or the parties that endorse or are affiliated with it.” And that, he determined, required a jury to consider the so-called Polaroid factors. He also noted that the likelihood of confusion under these factors must be particularly compelling in order to abrogate First Amendment protection. 

     The Jury’s Decision

It’s impossible to know exactly why the jury reached its verdict, but looking at the Court’s Instructions of Law to the Jury and the jury’s verdict sheet, an educated guess (at least on the trademark claim) is that the jury concluded there was a likelihood consumers would believe that Rothschild’s MetaBirkins were sponsored or otherwise connected with or approved by Hermès and that Hermès had proved that Rothschild intended to confuse potential consumers.

Interestingly, in instructing the jury on the applicability of Rothschild’s First Amendment defense, the court seemed to assume that Rothschild’s use of the term “Metabirkin” was artistically relevant. 

A few other things here: (1) the judge did not instruct the jury that it should look to the Polaroid factors to determine if something was explicitly misleading; (2) the jury instructions dropped any reference to the Polaroid factors from the discussion of whether the MetaBirkin NFTs were explicitly misleading; and (3) the judge seems to have substituted the “explicitly misleading” language from Rogers with an instruction that the jury needed to determine whether “Hermès had prove[n] that Mr. Rothschild actually intended to confuse potential customers” and, if it had, that he had waived his First Amendment protection.

In its verdict, the jury found Rothschild liable for trademark infringement, trademark dilution and “cybersquatting” (using a brand name in bad faith with the intent of making a profit from a trademark belonging to someone else). 

We’ll see if Rothschild appeals (he and his lawyers have stated they will) and, if so, whether he raises those issues on appeal. 

Some Bored Apes Walk Into A Courtroom

In November, we wrote about the Hermès International vs. Rothschild “MetaBirkin” NFT lawsuit which, among other things, involves questions about whether an artist’s use of trademarks is protected under the Rogers vs. Grimaldi test for trademark infringement. Another case involving NFTs now raises some of the same issues, but with numerous interesting elements all its own. 

Yuga Labs launched the Bored Ape Yacht Club (BAYC) NFTs in 2021. This project consists of 10,000 images of — you guessed it — bored apes generated by an algorithm. Sales of the NFTs in this project total more than $1 billion, making it one of the most financially successful NFT projects to date. 

But, while BAYC NFTs became hot commodities among celebrities and wealthy collectors, Ryder Ripps, a conceptual artist, interpreted the BAYC’s logo and elements of the ape images as promoting racist stereotypes and incorporating Nazi and neo-Nazi imagery and ideas. In Ripp’s view, Yuga is trying to infiltrate mainstream society with toxic imagery through superficially harmless cartoon art. For example, Ripps noted: similarities between the BAYC and the Waffen SS logos; the ape skull on the Yuga Labs logo has 18 teeth and 18 is code for Adolf Hitler; and the expression “surf the Kali Yuga” is used by white supremacists. 

He published these opinions online and, last May, launched an NFT collection called RR/BAYC.

The RR/BAYC NFTs link their own crypto tokens to the BAYC images and sell for about $200 each. According to Ripps’ website, the project “uses satire and appropriation to protest and educate people regarding The Bored Ape Yacht Club and the framework of NFTs.” 

Unsurprisingly, especially because of the value of the original BAYC NFTs, in late-June 2022, Yuga Labs sued Ryder Ripps and others involved with RR/BAYC. Yuga Lab’s Complaint alleges false advertising, trademark infringement, and cybersquatting, among other things. According to Yuga Labs, the RR/BAYC “is a deliberate effort to harm Yuga Labs at the expense of consumers by sowing confusion about whether these RR/BAYC NFTs are in some way sponsored, affiliated, or connected to Yuga Labs’ official Bored Ape Yacht Club.” 

Notably, despite elsewhere claiming that RR/BAYC NFTs infringed Yuga Lab’s copyrights, the Complaint does not include a claim for copyright infringement. Nor does it include a claim for defamation against Ripps and others involved with RR/BAYC.

Ripps and the other defendants in the lawsuit moved to dismiss the Complaint. They argue RR/BAYC is an expressive artistic work protected by the First Amendment and, therefore, not actionable under Rogers. They also claim that Yuga Lab’s Complaint must be dismissed because RR/BAYC buyers “understood that their NFT was being minted as a test against and parody of BAYC, and no one was under the impression that the BAYC NFTs were substitutes for BAYC NFTs or would grant them access to Yuga’s club. They explicitly acknowledged a disclaimer when they purchased [the NFTs].” Ripps also filed an anti-SLAPP motion, claiming Yuga Labs is trying to silence him through its lawsuit. 

In December, the Court denied defendants’ motions. It held Rogers did not apply as the RR/BAYC NFTs did not “express an idea or point of view, but, instead, merely ‘point to the same online digital images associated with the BAYC collection.’” It also concluded defendants’ use of Yuga’s marks isn’t nominative fair use because defendants are using the marks to sell their own NFTs, not plaintiff’s NFTs.

As for the anti-SLAPP motion, Judge Walter wrote, Yuga Labs had “not brought claims against Defendants for defamation, slander, or libel. Instead, Plaintiff’s claims are limited to and arise out of Defendant’s unauthorized use of the BAYC Marks for commercial purposes.” 

And that’s what’s so interesting here: Yuga sued solely for trademark infringement and not for defamation or copyright infringement. Why? On defamation, maybe to prevent anyone from looking too deeply at whether Yuga Labs’ imagery is, in fact, racist or relies on white supremacist imagery and ideas. However, this strategy seems to have backfired as the Court recently required the founders of Yuga Lab to sit for a deposition. Presumably, defendants’ lawyers used this opportunity to specifically address this issue. 

On copyright, it seems likely that Yuga Labs didn’t bring a claim because any copyrights belong to the NFT purchasers, not Yuga. Yuga may have also avoided bringing a copyright claim to skirt the issue of whether algorithm-generated NFT collections like BAYC are sufficiently original to qualify for copyright protection. 

In any event, stay tuned. If the parties don’t settle, this case will likely go to trial later this year.

A Meta Dispute Raises Mega Questions

Over the past few years, NFTs have emerged from nowhere to become a big deal — even if a lot of people are fuzzy on the details of what an NFT is. And, as with any new creation, especially one that reaches across art, entertainment, finance and culture, conflicts over NFTs raise new legal issues. On this, I’m especially fascinated by Hermès International vs. Rothschild, 22 Civ. 384 (S.D.N.Y.). It raises so many questions: What is art? Who is an artist? What is an NFT? How do art and commerce interact and where does the First Amendment fit into all this?

This is a very “meta” case (in more ways than one).

It’s a simple story. In 2021, Mason Rothschild, a Los Angeles-based digital artist, launched his “MetaBirkin” project. The project involved the sale of 100 NFTs, each linked to a digital image created by Rothschild. The images are of imaginary, Birkin-style bags covered in distinctively colored fur. (Birkin bags are very expensive handbags made by Hermès, the French luxury fashion brand. They are often made from leather or exotic animal skins and can cost more than $100,000.)

Rothschild promoted MetaBirkins on social media with hashtags like #NotYourMothersBirkin and #MetaBirkin and created a Discord group for followers. His stated intention was to use the NFTs to raise awareness of the fashion world’s “fur-free” initiatives and promote the use of ethical textiles. Sales of these NFTs quickly took off.

Hermès was not amused and sent Rothschild a cease and desist letter. A few weeks later, it filed suit, claiming, among other things, trademark infringement, unfair competition and cybersquatting stemming from the use of “MetaBirkin” and hashtags containing the word “Birkin.” OpenSea, the world’s largest NFT marketplace, removed the MetaBirkins from its site and resale prices, which had reached as high as $46,000 for a single NFT, plummeted.

Hermès makes several arguments, but its central claim is that Rothschild is misleading consumers into thinking Hermès authorized the NFTs and otherwise trading on Hermès’ goodwill. Here, the company points to posts on Rothschild’s social media accounts and in the news indicating confusion over Hermès’ relationship to MetaBirkins.

It also vehemently argues that the Court should ignore Rothschild’s images of fanciful, fake fur covered Birkin-style bags because “[t]he MetaBirkin NFTs are data recorded on the Ethereum blockchain,” which Rothschild could swap out for something completely different and unrelated. In other words, Hermès argues Rothschild’s work is just bits of code that can be disassociated from the images. Thus, according to Hermès, his work is not art and, therefore, outside the scope of the First Amendment. In support of this claim, Hermès notes that when the MetaBirkins were first minted, the image was covered in a shroud and didn’t show the actual picture being sold. It also repeatedly claims that Rothschild is a marketer and not an artist.

In response, Rothschild asserts the First Amendment allows him to make and sell art that depicts Birkin bags. In his words: “I am not creating or selling fake Birkin bags. I’ve made works of art that depict imaginary, fur-covered Birkin bags. I have the right also to use the term ‘MetaBirkins’ to describe truthfully what that art depicts, and to comment artistically on those bags and the Birkin brand.” What’s more, he goes on, “[t]he fact that I sell the art using NFTs doesn’t change the fact that it’s art.”

Mason Rothschild also claims his use of “Meta” is an indication that the images are part of a commentary and argues that Rogers v. Grimaldi, 875 F.2d 994 (2d Cir. 1989) requires the Court to dismiss Hermès’ case.

As a refresher, the dancer Ginger Rogers sued the makers of a movie called “Ginger and Fred,” claiming that the movie’s use of her name impermissibly implied that she sponsored the movie, which was about fictional cabaret performers named Ginger and Fred. The Second Circuit rejected her claims. It held that the First Amendment requires courts to dismiss trademark claims involving artistic works unless the public’s interest in avoiding consumer confusion outweighs the public interest’s in free expression. With celebrity names in titles, the court held that a trademark claim must be dismissed unless “the title has no artistic relevance to the work whatsoever, or if it has some artistic relevance, unless the title explicitly misleads as to the source or content of the work.”

Based on this, Rothschild argues that the images associated with his NFTs have sufficient artistic content to bring this case within the ambit of Rogers and he has not explicitly misled anyone about the source of the NFTs. Specifically, he notes that it is not in his interest to have consumers think the NFTs were created by Hermès because he wants to be credited as the artist.

It’s hard to say where the court is going to come out on this, but it doesn’t seem terribly likely that Hermès will prevail here. Courts don’t want to be in the business of deciding what is and isn’t art and are likely to err on finding something is art. Moreover, the lengths to which Hermès goes to try to disassociate the images from the NFTs would seem to support a conclusion that the images are, in fact, art.

And, while it’s true that Rothschild could substitute the images linked to the NFTs, that’s pure speculation and doesn’t bear any relationship to the actual facts here. If anything, the fact that in the minting process the NFTs were associated with images on a pedestal covered with a shroud make it seem even more like these digital images are, in fact, art because that specifically calls to mind the unveiling of a statue or other artwork.

Thus, for Hermès to prevail, it’s going to have to show the NFTs explicitly misled people about their source. It’s hard to see that happening.

This will be fascinating to see where the court comes out and watch for this case’s impact on the new, evolving world of NFTs, the market for them, and how they further develop.