Copyfraud, Watermarks, and Terms of Use

But they’re wrong. If we assume, for the sake of the discussion, that the Bridgeman ruling is actually relevant, and that prior Supreme Court determinations about the underlying reasons for granting copyright should be taken into account, then it’s pretty clear that slapping a generic watermark on a public-domain work does not transform that work in any meaningful way. The watermark is placed there for nothing more than the purpose of claiming ownership; adding it to the image does not involve any “creative spark” and does not create an original work in the sense that copyright was designed to cover.

As I noted above, we can never be 100 percent sure of what a court will do, and copyright cases are difficult precisely because they are so context-specific and fact-dependent. But I would be incredibly surprised if any court upheld the idea that the simple addition of a watermark confers new copyright. Of course, this doesn’t stop the library from filing a suit, and if you’re the defendant, you then have to decide whether it’s worth spending the money to defend the suit. Even if it gets thrown out of court, you might spend hundreds or thousands of dollars to get your judgment.

They would probably have a claim against you for violating the terms of the contract. Again, as in the above case, they could take the claim to court, and the issue would turn on the exact language of the agreement that you signed, and what you did with the image. That’s the problem with having broad, hypothetical discussion about copyright law; they’re often difficult precisely because of the specificity of each particular case.

But, as in the case of watermarks, we also have to consider the practicalities. Lawsuits are not just expensive to defend; they are also expensive to file and pursue. The library or museum would need to calculate whether a victory would end up costing them more in legal fees than any amount they might be able to recover from the person who violated the agreement.

As the doper I referenced above, Una Persson, has noted in talking about their experiences with this issue, what generally happens is that you get a warning from the institution with a whole bunch of scary and threatening legal language, but if you actually press them to state a clear legal claim, or ask them exactly what copyright they are asserting, they fire off a last piece of bluster and then leave you alone. This type of threaten-then-retreat strategy appears to be pretty standard among a lot of libraries and museums.

Here’s a post that Una made on the issue in a previous thread, from about ten years ago: