The High Court ruling which could break the internet

Could linking to a website be copyright infringement?

The Newspaper Licensing Agency (NLA) is a little-known victim of the disruptive forces of the internet, but in trying to fight for survival, they may just have broken the whole thing. 

Created as a private company owned by a consortium of news organisations in 1988, it oversees the granting of blanket licenses to the copyright of newspapers. Their primary purpose is to grant media monitoring agencies (companies monitor the press for clients, usually PR firms) the permissions they need to send out copies of newspaper articles without having to negotiate payment for every clipping.

For obvious reasons, this revenue stream has come under attack in the age of the internet. Why pay for permission to make a photocopy of the Guardian when you can just send your client a link to the story on Guardian.com? But the NLA decided to carry on making media monitors, even ones which operated entirely online, pay for a license, and last year sued a holdout firm, Meltwater News, in a test case.

The issue eventually made it to the Court of Appeal, where it was decided that the NLA did have the authority to force Meltwater, and other media monitors, to pay the fees. In itself, the case is small-fry – media monitoring agencies are not, after all, a massive part of the economy. But the legal reasoning behind the judgement is far more wide-ranging, and coming from the Court of Appeal, now constitutes a key part of the case law that drives the legal system of England and Wales.

In the High Court, the activities of media monitoring firms were held to require licenses because the mere act of visiting a website involves making a local copy of that page. That copy, it was decided, is normally provided under an implicit license from the site-owner, but when a media monitor visits the page, they need to pay for an explicit license. In addition, there was a second, even more damaging, claim. It was decreed that a headline was a literary work independent of its article, and that again, media monitoring firms had to pay for a license to distribute it. The High Court also ruled that Meltwater's clients – mainly PR agencies – needed their own license to browse through the links sent to them.

Much of the ruling seemed at odds with existing copyright law. The technological necessity of downloading a copy of a webpage in order to view it has historically been allowed as a "transient copy" under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, while titles – of which headlines are surely a subset – have never been copyrightable

Moreover, the European Union accepts that the act of visiting a website necessitates the creation of a copy. As a result, it requires that fees not be charged if the temporary copies made are "carried out for the sole purpose of enabling... a lawful use of a work". In fact, this exemption is the only one which is mandatory. Yet the Court ignored the directive, and decided instead that Meltwater's clients had made "a prima facie copyright infringement" by clicking on the links in Meltwater's briefing.

Just think about that. Clicking on a link, even one which leads to entirely legal content, could nonetheless constitute copyright infringement. The ruling puts at risk the basic skeleton of the internet.

The NLA has no plans to actually do anything but enforce their existing licensing authority online. But the whole point of case law is that it applies to more than just the participants in the original case. There's no telling who the next person to attempt to use this law will be. And of course, it's not like relying on the discretion of the authorities works out particularly well.

The law needs to be changed. But when an amendment to the Enterprise and Regulatory Reform bill was proposed last month which would do just that, the minister in charge, George Lamb, abdicated responsibility, arguing that "ultimately, the matter is for the courts to determine."

The Supreme Court won't hear the case until February 2013, leaving months of legal uncertainty. But in the end, that is besides the point. The question is not what the law does, in fact, say, but what it ought to say. The government does not need to wait for the Supreme Court to decide on the law as it stands to change the law to make it absolutely explicit that linking with a headline is not infringing, and to clarify that viewing a website does not involve making an actionable copy. It should have got moving on that the minute the case made it to the High Court; instead, it seems determined to put it off as long as possible.

Update: The NLA responds

David Pugh, the Managing Director of the NLA, writes:

Alex, I think the internet is made of sterner stuff than you suggest!

I don’t think it is in any danger of falling over any time soon as a result of the NLA v Meltwater case, which simply established that media monitoring companies that copy published content and use it to provide a paid-for ‘web cutting’ service for clients need a licence – and so do the clients paying for the service. That simply ensures a fair return for publishers.

The ruling does not mean that anyone clicking on a news website or sending a link to a friend is now a criminal!

The government has not been swayed by the minority lobby that was unhappy with the decisions of the High Court and Court of Appeal and now seeks to encourage MPs to use the Enterprise and Regulatory Reform Bill to rush through ill-conceived legislation that is not required.

I hope Pugh is right that the internet is strong enough to resist, but I disagree with his characterisation of the case. What he describes is all the NLA wanted to establish; but in doing so, a precedent was set which greatly expanded the scope of copyright online.

And while no-one involved is criminalised (this is a matter of civil, not criminal law), there is the chance this new precedent will be used in unforseen ways. As an example, earlier this year, Wonga received extraordinarily bad PR over a page they had set up on their website aimed at selling loans to students. I, as with many other journalists, linked to that page, with the headline. The precedent set by NLA v Meltwater could provide them grounds to sue for infringement.

That cannot be allowed to happen. If our current copyright legislation is open to interpretation that it does, then it is out-of-date for the internet age, and must be refreshed.

Photograph taken from Etsy user pixelparty

A sad mac. Photograph: Etsy/pixelparty

Alex Hern is a technology reporter for the Guardian. He was formerly staff writer at the New Statesman. You should follow Alex on Twitter.

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The joy of only winning once: why England should be proud of 1966

We feel the glory of that triumphant moment, 50 years ago, all the more because of all the other occasions when we have failed to win.

There’s a phrase in football that I really hate. It used to be “Thirty years of hurt”. Each time the England team crashes out of a major tournament it gets regurgitated with extra years added. Rather predictably, when England lost to Iceland in Euro 2016, it became “Fifty years of hurt”. We’ve never won the European Championship and in 17 attempts to win the World Cup we have only won once. I’m going to tell you why that’s a record to cherish.

I was seven in 1966. Our telly was broken so I had to watch the World Cup final with a neighbour. I sat squeezed on my friend Colin’s settee as his dad cheered on England with phrases like “Sock it to them Bobby”, as old fashioned now as a football rattle. When England took the lead for the second time I remember thinking, what will it feel like, when we English are actually Champions of the World. Not long after I knew. It felt good.

Wembley Stadium, 30 July 1966, was our only ever World Cup win. But let’s imagine what it would be like if, as with our rivals, we’d won it many times? Brazil have been World Champions on five occasions, Germany four, and Italy four. Most England fans would be “over the moon” if they could boast a similarly glorious record. They’re wrong. I believe it’s wonderful that we’ve only triumphed once. We all share that one single powerful memory. Sometimes in life less is definitely more.

Something extraordinary has happened. Few of us are even old enough to remember, but somehow, we all know everything that happened that day. Even if you care little about the beautiful game, I’m going to bet that you can recall as many as five iconic moments from 50 years ago. You will have clearly in your mind the BBC commentator Kenneth Wolstenholme’s famous lines, as Geoff Hurst tore down the pitch to score his hat-trick: “Some people are on the pitch. They think it’s all over. It is now”. And it was. 4 - 2 to England against West Germany. Thirty minutes earlier the Germans had equalised in the dying moments of the second half to take the game to extra time.

More drama we all share: Geoff Hurst’s second goal. Or the goal that wasn’t, as technology has since, I think, conclusively proved. The shot that crashed off the cross bar and did or didn’t cross the line. Of course, even if you weren’t alive at the time, you will know that the linesman, one Tofiq Bakhramov, from Azerbaijan (often incorrectly referred to as “Russian”) could speak not a word of English, signalled it as a goal.

Then there’s the England Captain, the oh-so-young and handsome Bobby Moore. The very embodiment of the era. You can picture him now wiping his muddy hands on his white shorts before he shakes hands with a youthful Queen Elizabeth. Later you see him lifted aloft by his team mates holding the small golden Jules Rimet trophy.

How incredible, how simply marvellous that as a nation we share such golden memories. How sad for the Brazilians and Germans. Their more numerous triumphs are dissipated through the generations. In those countries each generation will remember each victory but not with the intensity with which we English still celebrate 1966. It’s as if sex was best the first time. The first cut is the deepest.

On Colin’s dad’s TV the pictures were black and white and so were the flags. Recently I looked at the full colour Pathe newsreel of the game. It’s the red, white and blue of the Union Jack that dominates. The red cross of Saint George didn’t really come into prominence until the Nineties. The left don’t like flags much, unless they’re “deepest red”. Certainly not the Union Flag. It smacks of imperialism perhaps. In 1966 we didn’t seem to know if we were English or British. Maybe there was, and still is, something admirable and casual about not knowing who we are or what is our proper flag. 

Twelve years later I’m in Cuba at the “World Festival of Youth” – the only occasion I’ve represented my country. It was my chance to march into a stadium under my nation’s flag. Sadly, it never happened as my fellow delegates argued for hours over what, if any, flag we British should walk behind. The delegation leaders – you will have heard of them now, but they were young and unknown then – Peter Mandelson, Trevor Phillips and Charles Clarke, had to find a way out of this impasse. In the end, each delegation walked into the stadium behind their flag, except the British. Poor Mandelson stood alone for hours holding Union Jack, sweltering in the tropical sun. No other country seemed to have a problem with their flag. I guess theirs speak of revolution; ours of colonialism.

On Saturday 30 July BBC Radio 2 will commemorate the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final, live from Wembley Arena. Such a celebration is only possible because on 16 occasions we failed to win that trophy. Let’s banish this idea of “Fifty years of hurt” once and for all and embrace the joy of only winning once.

Phil Jones edits the Jeremy Vine Show on BBC Radio 2. On Saturday 30 July the station celebrates the 50th anniversary of the 1966 World Cup Final live from Wembley Arena, telling the story of football’s most famous match, minute by minuteTickets are available from: www.wc66.org