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In our last post, we examined the numerous reasons for which the Supreme Court found the State’s evidence to be lacking in the case of Brown v. Entertainment Merchants Association. This week we will examine the evidence in the social media debate keeping in mind the qualities that the Supreme Court found to be problematic in establishing a connection between video games and violence.

Read the full piece here.

As seen in Scalia’s critique, one of the main flaws in the research used by the state of California in Brown v. Entertainment Merchants Association was its lack of causational evidence. Most of the research concerning the relationship between violent video games relied upon correlational evidence. Correlational studies measure two variables and their relationship to one another. Establishing a correlation between two variables often serves as a starting point for research, but it does not prove causation. Consider the case of ice cream sales and violent crime—as one rises so does the other. The two are correlated, but no one is seriously considering banning ice cream. That is because, upon deeper analysis, it was determined that there is a third cause that drives an increase in both: higher temperatures.

Read the full piece here.

In 2005, California proposed legislation to ban the sale of violent video games to minors. This law was a culmination of growing concerns that violent video games were causing children to become more aggressive. Commentators noted that perpetrators of mass shootings, as in the case of Columbine, Heath High School, and Sandy Hook, often played video games considered to be violent such as Doom, Grand Theft Auto, and Call of Duty.1 Studies on the connection between video games and aggression came pouring out. In response, policymakers began to introduce laws banning or otherwise regulating the sale of violent video games to minors.

This would seem to be the ideal result. Lawmakers were able to come together and pass a law that addressed the issue at hand. The only problem is that there is little to no evidence that video games, even violent ones, lead to increases in aggressive behavior let alone that they are a driving factor behind school shootings.

Read the full piece here.

Today marks the release of a white paper I have been working on for a long time, titled “Knowledge and Decisions in the Information Age: The Law & Economics of Regulating Misinformation on Social-Media Platforms.” In it, I attempt to outline an Austrian law & economics theory of state action under the First Amendment, and then explain why it is important to the problem of misinformation on social-media platforms.

Read the full piece here.

It seems that large language models (LLMs) are all the rage right now, from Bing’s announcement that it plans to integrate the ChatGPT technology into its search engine to Google’s announcement of its own LLM called “Bard” to Meta’s recent introduction of its Large Language Model Meta AI, or “LLaMA.” Each of these LLMs use artificial intelligence (AI) to create text-based answers to questions.

Read the full piece here.

SUMMARY OF ARGUMENT

An interactive computer service’s automated recommendations qualify for statutory immunity under Section 230(c)(1). Congress enacted this policy choice in clear text, supported by powerful statutory context, including express findings and purposes that it wrote into the statute itself. And Congress did so in service of a national policy favoring free and open discourse on the still developing internet—a policy that has proved enormously successful in the years since. This Court should resist Petitioners’ invitation to impose sweeping changes on the Nation’s internet policy, and instead leave any such changes if they ever prove necessary—to Congress.

Section 230’s text should decide this case. Section 230(c)(1) immunizes the user or provider of an “interactive computer service” from being “treated as the publisher or speaker” of information “provided by another information content provider.” And, as Section 230(f)’s definitions make clear, Congress understood the term “interactive computer service” to include services that “filter,” “screen,” “pick, choose, analyze,” “display, search, subset, organize,” or “reorganize” third-party content. Automated recommendations perform exactly those  functions, and are therefore within the express scope of Section 230’s text.

Section 230(c)(1)’s use of the phrase “treated as the publisher or speaker” further confirms that Congress immunized distributors of third-party information from liability. At common law, a distributor of third-party information could be held liable only when the doctrine permitted the distributor to be treated as the publisher. As Petitioners and the United States agree, Congress understood and incorporated that common-law meaning of “treated as the publisher” into Section 230(c)(1). Given that a distributor cannot be “treated as the publisher” of certain third-party information, however, there is no alternative mechanism for holding the distributor liable based on the improper character of the information. Indeed, Congress enacted Section 230(c)(1) specifically to avoid the sweeping consequences that the common-law regime of knowledge-based distributor liability would inflict on the developing internet.

Section 230(c)(1)’s surrounding and subsequent statutory context bolsters this conclusion. Section 230(c)(1) provides the same protection to “user[s]” as to “provider[s]” of interactive computer services. Petitioners do not defend the position that users who like, retweet, or otherwise amplify third-party content should be held liable for the character of that content, but Section 230(c)(1)’s text renders that an inescapable consequence of their argument. The better inference is that Congress chose to protect a wide range of speech and speech-promoting conduct for providers and users of interactive computer services alike. In addition, other statutory enactments illustrate that Congress knew how to impose liability on distributors when it wanted to—such as in the Digital Millennium Copyright Act, for example, where Congress also wrote a detailed notice-and-takedown framework into the statute to ensure that distributors received adequate procedural protections as well.

Petitioners’ and the United States’ attempts to distinguish between mere automated recommendations (for which distributors purportedly could be liable) and the recommended content (for which they could not) find no support in the text. To the contrary, the text makes clear that even a bare automated recommendation constitutes “pick[ing]” or “choos[ing]” content, an activity expressly contemplated by Section 230. Moreover, to hold a distributor liable based in part upon the improper content of information created by a third party would conflict with the common-law meaning of the terms Congress chose.

Congress enacted Section 230(c)(1) to protect the continuing development of the internet and ensure that it would remain a national forum for the free exchange of ideas. This is a case where the statutory text successfully implements Congress’s purposes by providing broad protections to automated recommendations of third-party information. But this Court need not guess at Congress’s purposes here, as it might be reluctant to do in a different case, because Congress enacted its purposes into the statute itself. Those purposes are part of the statutory text like any other statutory text, and deserving of the respect this Court would give to any text that passed through bicameralism and presentment into law. If any changes to our Nation’s statutory regulation of the internet are necessary, this Court should leave them to Congress.

Read the full brief here.

Later next month, the U.S. Supreme Court will hear oral arguments in Gonzalez v. Google LLC, a case that has drawn significant attention and many bad takes regarding how Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act should be interpreted. Enacted in the mid-1990s, when the Internet as we know it was still in its infancy, Section 230 has grown into a law that offers online platforms a fairly comprehensive shield against liability for the content that third parties post to their services. But the law has also come increasingly under fire, from both the political left and the right.

Read the full piece here.

“Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in!” says Al Pacino’s character, Michael Corleone, in Godfather III. That’s how Facebook and Google must feel about S. 673, the Journalism Competition and Preservation Act (JCPA).

Read the full piece here.

Background…

As leaders of the U.S. Senate work to pass the National Defense Authorization Act (NDAA) in the ongoing lame-duck session, some reports suggest that S. 673, the Journalism Competition and Preservation Act (JCPA), could be added to the legislative package. Approved in September 2022 by the Senate Judiciary Committee, the JCPA aims to boost the fortunes of traditional media companies by forcing “covered” online platforms to pay for digital journalism accessed via their services. The bill would require that platforms continue to display digital journalism, while setting out an intricate process whereby digital-journalism providers would collectively negotiate the price of content with platforms.

But…

This quixotic attempt to prop up flailing media firms will create legally sanctioned cartels that harm consumers, while forcing online platforms to carry and pay for content in ways that violate long-established principles of intellectual property, economic efficiency, and the U.S. Constitution.

Read the full explainer here.