Summary Contents
US bankruptcy law can be invoked voluntarily or involuntarily when a company (a debtor) is unable to meet its obligations to its creditors. The law is designed to protect both debtors and creditors by modifying the relationship between a debtor’s assets and its obligations. Two general types of bankruptcy proceeding are available under the US Bankruptcy Code: liquidation under Chapter 7 and reorganization under Chapter 11.Footnote 1
In a Chapter 7 liquidation the debtor ceases all operations and its assets are collected and sold by a court-appointed trustee. The order in which the proceeds from this sale are distributed to the creditors depends on the type of debt owed. The filing of a bankruptcy proceeding initiates this process by creating a bankruptcy “estate” to which the debtor’s property is transferred and assigning a trustee to manage the property. These actions are taken to protect the interests of the creditors during the pendency of the proceeding.
In contrast, under Chapter 11 the debtor continues to operate its business as a “debtor in possession” (DIP) with a fiduciary duty to maintain its assets for the benefit of its creditors. In the proceeding, the debtor’s liabilities and obligations are reorganized in a manner that is designed to optimize the debtor company’s ongoing value. As part of the proceeding, the debtor’s plan of reorganization must be approved by both the creditors and the court. Once the proceeding is concluded, the debtor’s business, obligations and debts are restructured and it may continue operations as an independent company.
21.1 Automatic Stay of Proceedings
The filing of a bankruptcy petition in the United States triggers an automatic stay of most efforts to collect from, enforce rights against or take or use property of the bankruptcy estate.
(a) Except as provided in subsection (b) of this section, a petition filed under [this title] operates as a stay, applicable to all entities, of –
(1) the commencement or continuation, including the issuance or employment of process, of a judicial, administrative, or other action or proceeding against the debtor that was or could have been commenced before the commencement of the case under this title, or to recover a claim against the debtor that arose before the commencement of the case under this title;
(2) the enforcement, against the debtor or against property of the estate, of a judgment obtained before the commencement of the case under this title;
(3) any act to obtain possession of property of the estate or of property from the estate or to exercise control over property of the estate;
(4) any act to create, perfect, or enforce any lien against property of the estate;
(6) any act to collect, assess, or recover a claim against the debtor that arose before the commencement of the case under this title;
The automatic stay under the Bankruptcy Code is a powerful tool. It demonstrates the priority that bankruptcy proceedings have over other actions, precluding otherwise lawful actions unless the actor obtains permission from the Bankruptcy Court. As explained by the Ninth Circuit, its purpose is “to give the debtor a breathing spell from creditors, to stop all collection efforts, and to permit the debtor to attempt repayment or reorganization.”Footnote 2 Thus, any other legal actions that may impact a bankruptcy proceeding by removing property from the bankruptcy estate are frozen as of the date the proceeding commences.
Keep these principles in mind as you read the following case involving the automatic stay.
932 F.2d 1467 (D.C. Cir. 1991)
WILLIAM, CIRCUIT JUDGE
Inslaw, Inc., after filing for reorganization under Chapter 11 of the Bankruptcy Code, invoked § 362(a) to secure bankruptcy court adjudication of … its prolonged dispute with the Department of Justice over the Department’s right to use a case-tracking software system that Inslaw had provided under contract. Inslaw claimed that the Department had violated the stay provision by continuing, and expanding, its use of the software [PROMIS] in its U.S. Attorneys’ offices [after the bankruptcy filing]. The bankruptcy court found a willful violation and the district court affirmed on appeal. [We reverse.]
[Inslaw’s] major allegation concerns the Department’s use of enhanced PROMIS after the filing of the bankruptcy petition. The bankruptcy court concluded first that the privately-funded enhancements to PROMIS were proprietary trade secrets owned by Inslaw, and then that the Department’s continued use of these enhancements, and in particular its post-petition installation of enhanced PROMIS in 23 U.S. Attorneys’ offices (in addition to the 22 where Inslaw had made installations), were a “willful exercise of control over the property of the estate.”
The automatic stay protects “property of the estate.” This estate is created by the filing of a petition and comprises property of the debtor “wherever located and by whomever held,” including (among other things) “all legal or equitable interests of the debtor in property as of the commencement of the case.” 11 U.S.C. § 541(a)(1) (1988). It is undisputed that this encompasses causes of action that belong to the debtor, as well as the debtor’s intellectual property, such as interests in patents, trademarks and copyrights. The estate also includes property recoverable under the Code’s “turnover” provisions, which allow the trustee to recover property that “was merely out of the possession of the debtor, yet remained ‘property of the debtor.’”
In its brief, Inslaw refers rather vaguely to its interest in the enhanced PROMIS software as the “property of the estate” over which the Department supposedly exercised control. But for meaningful analysis, Inslaw’s interests must be examined separately. One set of interests consists of (1) the computer tapes containing copies of the source and object codes that Inslaw sent to the Department on April 20, 1983 and (2) the copies of enhanced PROMIS that Inslaw installed on Department hardware between August 1983 and January 1984. As to these, Inslaw held no possessory interest when it filed for bankruptcy on February 7, 1985. Nor can it claim a possessory interest over them through the Code’s turnover provisions, [because] as Inslaw freely admits, the Department held possession of the copies under a claim of ownership (its view of the contract …) and claimed the right to use enhanced PROMIS without further payment. [A] debtor cannot use the turnover provisions to liquidate contract disputes or otherwise demand assets whose title is in dispute. Indeed, Inslaw never sought possession of the copies under the turnover provisions.
The bankruptcy court instead identified the relevant property as Inslaw’s intangible trade secret rights in the PROMIS enhancements. It then found that the Department’s continuing use of these intangible enhancements was an “exercise of control” over property of the estate.
If the bankruptcy court’s idea of the scope of “exercise of control” were correct, the sweep of § 362(a) would be extraordinary – with a concomitant expansion of the jurisdiction of the bankruptcy court. Whenever a party against whom the bankrupt holds a cause of action (or other intangible property right) acted in accord with his view of the dispute rather than that of the debtor-in-possession or bankruptcy trustee, he would risk a determination by a bankruptcy court that he had “exercised control” over intangible rights (property) of the estate.
[Such] assertions of bankruptcy court jurisdiction raise severe constitutional problems. Even apart from constitutional concerns, Inslaw’s view of § 362(a) would take it well beyond Congress’s purpose. The object of the automatic stay provision is essentially to solve a collective action problem – to make sure that creditors do not destroy the bankrupt estate in their scramble for relief. Fulfillment of that purpose cannot require that every party who acts in resistance to the debtor’s view of its rights violates § 362(a) if found in error by the bankruptcy court. Thus, someone defending a suit brought by the debtor does not risk violation of § 362(a)(3) by filing a motion to dismiss the suit, though his resistance may burden rights asserted by the bankrupt. Nor does the filing of a lis pendens violate the stay (at least where it does not create a lien), even though it alerts prospective buyers to a hazard and may thereby diminish the value of estate property. And the commencement and continuation of a cause of action against the debtor that arises post-petition, and so is not stayed by § 362(a)(1), does not violate § 362(a)(3). Since willful violations of the stay expose the offending party to liability for compensatory damages, costs, attorney’s fees, and, in some circumstances, punitive damages, see 11 U.S.C. § 362(h) (1988), it is difficult to believe that Congress intended a violation whenever someone already in possession of property mistakenly refuses to capitulate to a bankrupt’s assertion of rights in that property.
[Our] understanding of § 362(a) does not expose bankrupts to any troubling hazard. Here, for example, Inslaw retains whatever intangible property rights it had in enhanced PROMIS at the time of filing. If the Department has violated the [contract,] Inslaw as debtor-in-possession has all the access to court enjoyed by any victim of a contract breach by the United States government. If [the alleged modification of the contract] was induced by fraud, [then] Inslaw has its contract remedies or perhaps a suit for conversion. Assuming that its privately-funded enhancements to PROMIS qualify as proprietary trade secrets, [it] may be able to sue the government under the Trade Secrets Act or even under the Administrative Procedure Act for improper disclosures of its trade secrets by government officials.
[Because] the Department has taken no actions since the filing of the bankruptcy petition that violate the automatic stay, the bankruptcy court must, as both a statutory and constitutional matter, defer to adjudication of these matters by other forums. So ordered.
Notes and Questions
1. The Inslaw saga. The Inslaw decision excerpted above is just one small piece in a sprawling legal dispute that improbably combines software licensing with international espionage, illicit arms deals and government cover-ups. According to Inslaw, the Department of Justice played a significant role in forcing the company into bankruptcy, which led to the above litigation regarding the DOJ’s rights following Inslaw’s filing. According to news reports, television programs and fragments of the case record, Inslaw licensed its PROMIS software to the US Department of Justice (DOJ) to help prosecutors monitor case records. But the DOJ, possibly with the help of the National Security Agency (NSA), modified the software without Inslaw’s permission to enable it to spy on its users. The DOJ, possibly in coordination with high-ranking officials of the Reagan Administration, then allegedly distributed copies of the software to US allies, including the UK, Israel and Australia, using it to collect information surreptitiously from these countries.Footnote 3
2. Exercise of control. The Bankruptcy Court in Inslaw found that the DOJ’s continued use of the proprietary PROMIS software after Inslaw’s bankruptcy filing constituted an “exercise of control” over Inslaw’s trade secrets, which was subject to the automatic stay. The DC Circuit reversed, holding that the DOJ’s use of property was not the exercise of control over that property. Given this holding, what kind of activity would constitute the attempted exercise of control of a software program licensed by the debtor to a third party?
3. Post-petition actions not stayed. In Inslaw, the court notes that the automatic stay does not prohibit a defendant from defending against a suit brought by the debtor-in-possession, nor does it prohibit “the commencement and continuation of a cause of action against the debtor that arises post-petition.” By the same token, the court suggests that Inslaw could bring a post-petition action for damages or intellectual property infringement against the DOJ for its unauthorized use of the PROMIS software. Even so, the DOJ’s use of the software, even if unauthorized, does not fall within the scope of the automatic stay in bankruptcy.
4. Actions barred. In Computer Communications, Inc. v. Codex Corp., 824 F.2d 725 (9th Cir. 1987), CCI and Codex were parties to a contract whereby Codex would purchase computer equipment from CCI. Shortly after CCI filed for bankruptcy, Codex sought to terminate the agreement in accordance with its terms. Among other things (see Section 21.5 for a discussion of the rule against ipso facto bankruptcy clauses), CCI argued that Codex was barred by the automatic stay from terminating the contract without permission of the bankruptcy court. The Ninth Circuit agreed with CCI, holding that the termination of a contract constituted an attempt to exert control over an intangible asset of the debtor (the contract). It explained:
The legislative history emphasizes that the stay is intended to be broad in scope. Congress designed it to protect debtors and creditors from piecemeal dismemberment of the debtor’s estate. The automatic stay statute itself provides a summary procedure for obtaining relief from the stay. All parties benefit from the fair and orderly process contemplated by the automatic stay and judicial relief procedure. Judicial toleration of an alternative procedure of self-help and post hoc justification would defeat the purpose of the automatic stay. Accordingly, we affirm the bankruptcy and district courts on the ground that Codex violated the automatic stay by unilaterally terminating the contract …
5. Congressional intent? The court in Inslaw notes that “it is difficult to believe that Congress intended a violation [of the automatic stay] whenever someone already in possession of property mistakenly refuses to capitulate to a bankrupt’s assertion of rights in that property.” What situation was the court referring to?
Problem 21.1
Which of the following actions would most likely be permitted in view of the automatic stay created by the debtor’s filing for bankruptcy?
a. A licensor delivers the debtor a notice terminating a copyright license one day prior to filing for bankruptcy.
b. A licensor files an action in state court, one week after the debtor’s filing for bankruptcy, seeking an injunction against the debtor who has licensed the licensor’s trademarks and trade name.
c. A licensor files a lawsuit for patent infringement against the debtor one week prior to the debtor’s filing for bankruptcy.
21.2 The Bankruptcy Estate
As noted above, filing a bankruptcy petition causes an immediate and automatic transfer of all the debtor’s “property” into the bankruptcy estate. This transfer has an immediate impact on entities dealing with the debtor and can substantially change the terms on which their relationship was built. Since the goal of a bankruptcy proceeding is to maximize value for creditors, the description of “property” included in the bankruptcy estate is broad.
Section 541(a) of the Bankruptcy Code provides that the bankruptcy estate “is comprised of … all legal or equitable interests of the debtor in property as of the commencement of the case [and various designated types of property acquired after commencement of the case].” The key point in time for this purpose is thus the commencement of the bankruptcy case.
“Property of the estate” generally includes intellectual property (IP) rights, license rights, lawsuits and all other tangible and intangible assets of potential value at the time of a bankruptcy filing, as well as all “proceeds, product, offspring, rents, and profits of or from property of the estate.” The definition of proceeds is quite important in determining what assets the creditors have access to.
Thus, in Keen, Inc. v. Gecker, 264 F. Supp. 659 (N.D. Ill. 2003), the court held that a patent application pending at the time of a bankruptcy filing was the property of the bankruptcy estate, as were any royalties earned after the patent issued (i.e., as “proceeds” arising from that property). In contrast, if the debtor begins a new line of research after the bankruptcy filing, and that research leads to an important new discovery that the debtor patents, that patent and its proceeds would not form part of the bankruptcy estate, as they arose after the filing.
The question of what assets are included in the bankruptcy estate is important for several reasons, including the degree to which the creditors of the bankrupt debtor are entitled to receive the proceeds of those assets.
Problem 21.2
Spendthrift Corp. is a producer of industrial chemicals. Suppose that in January 2013, Spendthrift discovers and files a patent application for a new nontoxic solvent. In December 2014, Spendthrift then files for reorganization under Chapter 11 of the Bankruptcy Code. The patent issues in March 2015, and in April the DIP licenses the patent to Ajax Corp. for an up-front royalty of $1 million. In June 2015, the DIP sells the patent to Bromide Corp. for $2 million. In August 2015, the DIP hires Rita Reagent, a world-renowned chemist. Rita immediately invents a heat-resistant lubricant compound and the DIP files a patent application on the invention. The lubricant patent issues in record time in July 2016. The DIP then sells this patent to Lubrizol, Inc. for $3 million. In October 2016, the DIP enters into a consulting agreement with Bromide relating to the manufacture of solvents made using the technology claimed in the 2015 patent. Which assets are included in Spendthrift’s bankruptcy estate, and which are not?
21.3 Executory Contracts and Section 365(n)
Among the debtor’s assets and property that are transferred to the bankruptcy estate are contract rights that existed at the time of filing for bankruptcy. However, in the case of contracts that have not been fully performed at the time of filing (so-called “executory” contracts), Section 365 of the Bankruptcy Code gives the trustee in bankruptcy or the debtor in possession the right to choose whether or not to assume such contracts.
The purpose of this powerful right is to allow the trustee to maximize the value of the estate’s assets. As such, it may assume those contracts that would be beneficial to the debtor, while rejecting those that would be burdensome or uneconomical to perform.
If a contract is assumed, the responsibilities of the contract may be retained or assigned by the trustee, subject to court approval. If a contract is rejected, the debtor ceases its performance. Such nonperformance may constitute a breach of the contract, leaving the other contracting party with a claim for monetary damages against the estate that is adjudicated along with the claims of other creditors.
Originally, the Bankruptcy Code did not give much guidance regarding the treatment of IP licenses under Section 365. On one hand, the most significant legal event to occur under a licensing agreement – the grant of the license – occurs upon execution of the agreement. On the other hand, most licensing agreements include a range of ongoing commitments by the parties, including the payment of running royalties, confidentiality, indemnification and so forth. Given these factors, should an IP licensing agreement that was in place before a filing for bankruptcy generally be considered an executory contract or not? And if it is an executory contract, may a trustee in bankruptcy reject it long after the license has been granted?
The Fourth Circuit considered this question in the well-known case Lubrizol Enterprises, Inc. v. Richmond Metal Finishers, Inc., 756 F.2d 1043 (4th Cir. 1985). In that case, Richmond Metal Finishers (RMF) granted Lubrizol a nonexclusive license to utilize a metal coating process technology. The agreement required Lubrizol to pay periodic royalties to RMF. A year after the license was granted, RMF filed for bankruptcy under Chapter 11. As part of its plan to emerge from bankruptcy, RMF sought, pursuant to § 365(a), to characterize the agreement as executory and to reject it in order to facilitate a sale or licensing of the technology at a more favorable price. Lubrizol, not wishing to lose its rights under the agreement, argued that the agreement was largely performed and thus not executory.
The Fourth Circuit disagreed. First, it noted that under prevailing precedent, “a contract is executory if the obligations of both the bankrupt and the other party to the contract are so far unperformed that the failure of either to complete the performance would constitute a material breach excusing the performance of the other.” Next, it outlined the as-yet unperformed duties of each of the parties:
RMF owed the following duties to Lubrizol under the agreement: (1) to notify Lubrizol of any patent infringement suit and to defend in such suit; (2) to notify Lubrizol of any other use or licensing of the process, and to reduce royalty payments if a lower royalty rate agreement was reached with another licensee; and (3) to indemnify Lubrizol for losses arising out of any misrepresentation or breach of warranty by RMF. Lubrizol owed RMF reciprocal duties of accounting for and paying royalties for use of the process and of cancelling certain existing indebtedness.
Given these continuing obligations of both parties, the court held that the agreement was executory and permitted RMF to cancel it, leaving Lubrizol without the license that it had already paid a significant amount to secure.
The Lubrizol case led to a significant outcry in the technology sector, as firms quickly realized that the rights that they had under license were vulnerable to cancelation if their licensor entered bankruptcy proceedings. As a result, Congress convened hearings and three years later enacted the Intellectual Property Bankruptcy Act of 1988, which was codified as Section 365(n) of the Bankruptcy Code. As explained by one commentator:
In enacting section 365(n), Congress recognized that technological development and innovation are advanced by encouraging solvent licensees to invest in start-up companies. Indeed, the economic reality is that intellectual property is often developed by undercapitalized companies relying on the financial support of solvent licensees to provide “venture capital” for development. To encourage investment in intellectual property and to protect the rights of licensees who contribute financing, research, development, manufacturing, or marketing skills, Congress limited the power of debtor-licensors to “reject” licenses as executory contracts.
As the judiciary committees observed, it would be inequitable if a licensee who funded the development of the intellectual property, or who invested substantial monies in anticipation of using or marketing the technology, were denied the benefit of its bargain. It would also be unjust if the debtor or creditors’ committee could unilaterally disclose jointly developed trade secrets, patents, or copyrightable information. Such disclosures would have a devastating effect on the licensee’s business, possibly even causing its bankruptcy. The judiciary committees compared the licensee’s predicament to that of a lessee of real property because in both instances the consequences of the debtor’s breach is not compensable in monetary damages.Footnote 4
Section 365(n), which is reproduced below, effectively eliminates the effect of a bankrupt licensor’s rejection of an executory IP license by allowing the licensee to continue to enjoy the benefits of that license, so long as it continues to make all required payments (the subject of the Prize Frize case excerpted below).
(1) If the trustee rejects an executory contract under which the debtor is a licensor of a right to intellectual property, the licensee under such contract may elect –
(A) to treat such contract as terminated by such rejection if such rejection by the trustee amounts to such a breach as would entitle the licensee to treat such contract as terminated by virtue of its own terms, applicable nonbankruptcy law, or an agreement made by the licensee with another entity; or
(B) to retain its rights (including a right to enforce any exclusivity provision of such contract, but excluding any other right under applicable nonbankruptcy law to specific performance of such contract) under such contract … to such intellectual property … as such rights existed immediately before the case commenced, for (i) the duration of such contract …
(2) If the licensee elects to retain its rights, as described in paragraph (1)(B) of this subsection, under such contract –
(A) the trustee shall allow the licensee to exercise such rights;
(B) the licensee shall make all royalty payments due under such contract for the duration of such contract …
(3) If the licensee elects to retain its rights, as described in paragraph (1)(B) of this subsection, then on the written request of the licensee the trustee shall –
(A) to the extent provided in such contract … provide to the licensee any intellectual property … held by the trustee; and
(B) not interfere with the rights of the licensee as provided in such contract … to such intellectual property … including any right to obtain such intellectual property … from another entity.
32 F.3d 426 (9th Cir. 1994)
NOONAN, CIRCUIT JUDGE
This case, of first impression in any circuit, turns on whether license fees, paid by a licensee for the use of technology, patents, and proprietary rights, are “royalties” within the meaning of 11 U.S.C. § 365(n)(2)(B) and, as such, must continue to be paid after the licensor in bankruptcy has exercised its statutory right to reject the contract.
Facts
The debtor, Prize Frize, Inc., is the owner and licensor of all technology, patents, proprietary rights and related rights used in the manufacture and sale of a French fry vending machine. On March 6, 1991, the debtor entered into a License Agreement granting an exclusive license to utilize the proprietary rights and to manufacture, use and sell the vending machine. In consideration for the license to use the proprietary information and related rights, the licensee agreed to pay the debtor a $1,250,000 license fee – $300,000 to be paid within ten days of execution of the agreement with the balance due in $50,000 monthly payments. The licensee also agreed to pay royalty payments based on a percentage of franchise fees, of net marketing revenues and of any sales of the machines or certain related products. The license agreement also provided that if there was a failure of design and/or components of the machines to the extent that they were not fit for their intended use and were withdrawn from service, then the licensee’s obligations would be suspended for a period of 180 days, during which time the debtor was entitled to cure any defect. Encino Business Management, Inc. (EBM) is the successor licensee under this license.
The debtor filed its Chapter 11 petition on March 12, 1991. In September of 1991, EBM, which had become the licensee, stopped making the $50,000 per month license fee payments and has made no payments since. EBM contends that there is a design defect in the machines which caused the machines to be withdrawn from service and which allowed the suspension of its obligation to pay the debtor.
The debtor subsequently filed a motion to reject the license agreement with EBM and to compel EBM to elect whether it wished to retain its rights under section 365(n)(1). EBM did not file a written response to the motion. At the hearing, EBM’s counsel indicated that he did not oppose rejection. He disputed, however, that EBM should be required to immediately pay $350,000 in past due license fee payments, contending that the obligation to make such payments was suspended because of the purported design defect.
The bankruptcy court entered an order indicating that the debtor might reject the agreement, that EBM might elect whether to retain its rights under the agreement pursuant to section 365(n)(1) and that if EBM elected to retain its rights under the agreement it must do the following: (1) make all license fee payments presently due in the amount of $350,000 within seven days of its election; (2) pay the $400,000 balance of the license fee in monthly installments of $50,000; and (3) waive any and all rights of setoff with respect to the contract and applicable non-bankruptcy law and any claim under section 503(b) arising from performance under the agreement. The court’s order also stated that assuming, arguendo, that EBM’s payment obligations were properly suspended, the 180-day suspension period had ended and the September to March monthly payments were now due.
EBM appealed.
Analysis
Section 365 of the Bankruptcy Code is an intricate statutory scheme governing the treatment by the trustee in bankruptcy or the debtor-in-possession of the executory contracts of the debtor. There is no dispute that the license agreement between EBM and the debtor was executory, i.e. there were obligations on both sides which to some extent were unperformed. Consequently, the debtor had the right to reject the contract. However, section 365(n)(1) qualifies this right when the debtor is “a licensor of a right to intellectual property.” There is no dispute that the debtor is such a licensor. Consequently, EBM as “the licensee under such contract” could make an election. § 365(n)(1). EBM could either treat the contract as terminated as provided by (n)(1)(A), or EBM could retain its rights to the intellectual property for the duration of the contract and any period for which the contract might be extended by the licensee as of right under applicable nonbankruptcy law.
EBM elected to retain its rights. It was then obligated to “make all royalty payments due under such contract.” By the terms of the statute EBM was also “deemed to waive any right of setoff it may have with respect to such contract under this title or applicable nonbankruptcy law.”
Section 365(n) has struck a fair balance between the interests of the bankrupt and the interests of a licensee of the bankrupt’s intellectual property. The bankrupt cannot terminate and strip the licensee of rights the licensee had bargained for. The licensee cannot retain the use of those rights without paying for them. It is essential to the balance struck that the payments due for the use of the intellectual property should be analyzed as “royalties,” required by the statute itself to be met by the licensee who is enjoying the benefit of the bankrupt’s patents, proprietary property, and technology. [The] legislative history buttresses this commonsense interpretation of “royalties” in the statute.
EBM’s principal argument is that the licensing agreement itself makes a distinction between what the agreement calls “license fees” and what the agreement calls “royalty payments.” The “royalty payments” in the agreement are percentages payable on the retail sales price of each machine sold by EBM; the “license fees” in the agreement are the sums here in dispute which were to be paid for the license to manufacture and sell the vending machine. EBM’s argument is not frivolous. Nonetheless the parties by their choice of names cannot alter the underlying reality nor change the balance that the Bankruptcy Code has struck. Despite the nomenclature used in the agreement, the license fees to be paid by EBM are royalties in the sense of section 365(n). Section 365(n) speaks repeatedly of “licensor” and “licensee” with the clear implication that payments by licensee to licensor for the use of intellectual property are, indifferently, “licensing fees” or “royalties,” and, as royalties, must be paid by the licensee who elects to keep its license after the licensor’s bankruptcy. The same indifference to nomenclature in referring to a licensee’s lump sum or percentage-of-sales payments as royalties is apparent in patent cases.
EBM’s fallback position on appeal is that the debtor has been freed by its rejection of the contract from the obligations assumed by the debtor under Article V (“Representations, Warranties and Covenants by PFI”) of the agreement. These obligations included the debtor’s agreement to hold EBM harmless from any claim arising out of events preceding the agreement, to defend any infringement suit relating to technology or design included in the machine, and to prosecute at its own expense any infringers of the rights granted by the agreement. The debtor also represented that the design of the Stand-Alone Machine was free from material defects. These obligations raise the question whether it is proper to consider all of the license fees as royalties or whether some portion of the fees should be allocated to payment for the obligations assumed by the debtor. Neither the bankruptcy court nor the BAP addressed this possibility. They did not because EBM did not present this question to them. It is consequently too late to raise it here. EBM still has its unsecured claim for breach of the entire license agreement that § 365(g) accords it. As its appeal was non-frivolous, no attorney’s fees are awarded.
As what the licensing agreement denominates “license fees” must be regarded as “royalty payments” for purposes of § 365(n)(1)(B), the judgment [is] AFFIRMED.
Notes and Questions
1. Executory contracts: copyright. The issues discussed above are not unique to patent licenses. In Otto Preminger Films, Ltd. v. Quintex Entertainment, Ltd., 950 F.2d 1492 (9th Cir. 1991), the Ninth Circuit held that a contract relating to the colorization of several motion pictures was executory. Among other things, the contract required the licensor to: (1) refrain from selling the rights to subdistribute the movies to third parties; (2) indemnify and defend the licensee; and (3) exercise creative control over the colorization and marketing of the pictures. In addition, the licensee remained contractually obligated to give accountings and pay royalties for future sales of the pictures.
Likewise, in In re Select-A-Seat Corp., 625 F.2d 290 (9th Cir. 1980), the court held that an exclusive software license was executory because the licensee remained obligated to pay the licensor a portion of the licensee’s annual net return from use of the software, while the licensor remained obligated not to sell its software packages to other parties.
All things considered, do these agreements sound executory to you? If so, what obligations would need to be eliminated to make these agreements non-executory? Realistically, are there any IP licensing agreements that are not executory by these standards?
2. The Lubrizol effect. As noted above, Congress enacted Section 365(n) as a direct response to the Lubrizol decision. What was so wrong with Lubrizol? And if Section 365(a) allows the rejection of other executory contracts, why should IP licenses be treated differently?Footnote 5
3. The effect of 365(n). Do you agree with the court in Prize Frize that “Section 365(n) has struck a fair balance between the interests of the bankrupt and the interests of a licensee of the bankrupt’s intellectual property”?
4. Trademark licenses. Section 101(35A) of the Bankruptcy Code defines “intellectual property” as including trade secrets, patented inventions, plant varieties, copyrighted works and semiconductor mask works. Notably absent from this list are trademarks. One reason for this omission, it has been argued, is that a trademark licensor is required to exercise quality control over the goods and services sold under its mark (see Section 15.3). If a trademark licensor is in bankruptcy, and is required to allow its licensees to retain their right to use its marks, then the licensor will necessarily be required to exert effort to police the use of those marks – an effort that may not serve to maximize the value of the bankruptcy estate.
Courts were divided over the ability of a trademark licensor to reject trademark licenses in bankruptcy. The confusion was finally resolved by the Supreme Court in Mission Product Holdings v. Tempnology, LLC, 139 S. Ct. 1652, 1662 (2019). There, the Court looked not to Section 365(n), which admittedly does not include trademarks within its ambit, but to the effect of breach on licenses outside of the bankruptcy context. That is, Section 365(g) of the Bankruptcy Code provides that if a trustee in bankruptcy rejects a debtor’s obligations under an executory contract, that rejection constitutes a breach of the agreement. But outside the bankruptcy context, a breach of contract by a licensor of IP does not automatically terminate the licensee’s rights. The licensee’s rights cease only if the licensee elects to terminate the contract for the licensor’s breach. Upon a licensor’s breach, the licensee gains a remedy in damages against the licensor, and may also continue to enjoy its rights under the agreement. Why, then, the Court asks, should a debtor licensor’s breach in bankruptcy change this situation? “A debtor’s property does not shrink by happenstance of bankruptcy, but it does not expand, either.” Accordingly, a bankrupt trademark licensor may reject and stop performing its obligations under an executory license, but it cannot “rescind the license already conveyed.” So, the Court concludes, “the licensee can continue to do whatever the license authorizes.” Do you agree with the Court’s reasoning in Mission Product? Why would the Court protect trademark licensees contrary to the Congressional intent made evident by leaving trademarks out of the IP exclusion under Section 365(n)? Should Congress again correct the courts, as it did after the decision in Lubrizol?
5. Contractual bankruptcy clauses. Never wishing to forego an opportunity to include new clauses in license agreements, transactional attorneys have developed contractual language directed to Section 365(n) which often takes the following form:
Rights in Bankruptcy. Licensor acknowledges and agrees that the licenses and rights granted in this Section by Licensor to Licensee with respect to the Licensed Rights are licenses and rights to “intellectual property” within the definition of Section 101(35A) of the Code. The parties hereto further agree that, in the event of the commencement of a bankruptcy proceeding by or against Licensor under the Code, Licensee shall be entitled, at its option, to retain all its rights under this Agreement, including without limitation [list], pursuant to Code Section 365(n). Rejection pursuant to Section 365 of the Code constitutes a material breach of the contract and entitles the aggrieved party to terminate upon written notice.
Is this language necessary? What advantages may lie in including it in an agreement?
21.4 Assignment by Bankrupt Licensee
In a bankruptcy proceeding, the “debtor in possession” (DIP) is technically considered a separate legal entity from the debtor company itself. Accordingly, when the DIP takes possession of the assets of the debtor (the bankruptcy estate), those assets are assigned from the debtor to the DIP. This transfer is described in Section 541(c) of the Bankruptcy Code, which provides that a contract of the debtor becomes property of the bankruptcy estate “notwithstanding any provision in an agreement, transfer instrument, or applicable nonbankruptcy law … that restricts or conditions transfer of such interest by the debtor.”
However, there is an exception for executory contracts. Section 365 of the Code provides:
(c) The trustee may not assume or assign any executory contract or unexpired lease of the debtor, whether or not such contract or lease prohibits or restricts assignment of rights or delegation of duties, if –
(A) applicable law excuses a party, other than the debtor, to such contract or lease from accepting performance from or rendering performance to an entity other than the debtor or the debtor in possession, whether or not such contract or lease prohibits or restricts assignment of rights or delegation of duties; and
(B) such party does not consent to such assumption or assignment
Thus, under Section 365(c)(1)(A), if applicable law does not permit the assignment of an executory contract, it may not be assigned by the trustee.
How does this rule apply to IP licenses? As discussed in Section 13.3, a licensee’s interest in a nonexclusive copyright or patent license may not be transferred without the consent of the licensor. In Everex Systems, Inc. v. Cadtrax Corp., 89 F.3d 673 (9th Cir. 1996), the Ninth Circuit confirmed that the rule of nonassignability applies in the bankruptcy context. In Everex, the court held that a nonexclusive patent license could not be assumed or assigned even though it was found to be an executory contract for bankruptcy purposes because, under federal law, a nonexclusive license is only assignable with the consent of the licensor.
But in Institut Pasteur v. Cambridge Biotech Corp., 104 F.3d 489 (1st Cir. 1997), the First Circuit refused to follow the Ninth Circuit’s lead. It held that when a debtor sought to assign a nonexclusive patent license to the DIP, the assignment did not run afoul of the rule against assignability, as the only difference between the pre-petition debtor and the post-petition DIP was pro forma:
Where the particular transaction envisions that the debtor-in-possession would assume and continue to perform under an executory contract, the bankruptcy court cannot simply presume as a matter of law that the debtor-in-possession is a legal entity materially distinct from the pre-petition debtor with whom the nondebtor party … contracted. Rather, sensitive to the rights of the nondebtor party … the bankruptcy court must focus on the performance actually to be rendered by the debtor-in-possession with a view to ensuring that the nondebtor party … will receive the full benefit of [its] bargain.
Notes and Questions
1. Assignment to one’s self. Considering the decisions in Everex and Institut Pasteur, what do you think of applying the prohibition on assignment to an assignment of an agreement from a pre-petition debtor to a post-petition DIP? Which court’s reasoning seems more practical?
2. Overriding prohibitions on assignment. Section 365(f)(1) of the Bankruptcy Code allows a trustee in bankruptcy (or a debtor in possession) to assign many of the debtor’s executory contracts even if the contracts themselves forbid assignment. What is the rationale for this rule? Why should a trustee be permitted to override the parties’ agreed prohibition on assignment of an agreement?
21.5 Ipso Facto Clauses
Section 365(e)(1) of the Bankruptcy Code provides that:
Notwithstanding a provision in an executory contract … or in applicable law, an executory contract … of the debtor may not be terminated or modified, and any right or obligation under such contract … may not be terminated or modified, at any time after the commencement of the case solely because of a provision in such contract or lease that is conditioned on -
(A) the insolvency or financial condition of the debtor at any time before the closing of the case;
(B) the commencement of a case under this title; or
(C) the appointment of or taking possession by a trustee in a case under this title or a custodian before such commencement.
In effect, this provision prohibits the parties to an executory contract, such as an IP license, from agreeing that the contract will terminate upon the initiation of a bankruptcy proceeding or other event under the Code (there are some exceptions to this rule, for example, for personal service contracts). Thus, under US law, ipso facto (by the very fact or act) bankruptcy termination clauses are facially invalid. This result was confirmed in Computer Communications, Inc. v. Codex Corp., 824 F.2d 725 (9th Cir. 1987), in which the parties entered into a technology development and purchase agreement that stipulated that certain events, including bankruptcy, would constitute default under the agreement. Two days after the parties executed the agreement, Computer Communications, Inc. (CCI) filed a petition for reorganization under Chapter 11. Shortly thereafter, Codex notified CCI that it was terminating the agreement under the bankruptcy clause. The district court held, however, that § 365(e)(1) prevented Codex from unilaterally terminating the contract. The Ninth Circuit affirmed, though on slightly different grounds.
Despite the relatively clear rule under § 365(e)(1), it is common to see ipso facto clauses in the termination sections of agreements, particularly IP licensing agreements. An example of such a clause follows.
Without prejudice to either party’s other rights and remedies, either party shall have the right to terminate this Agreement upon written notice to the other upon:
(a) the entry of an order for relief against the other party under Title 7 or 11 of the United States Bankruptcy Code (“Code”);
(b) the commencement of an involuntary proceeding under the Code against the other party, if not dismissed within 30 days after such commencement;
(c) the making by the other party of a general assignment for the benefit of creditors;
(d) the appointment of or taking possession by a receiver, liquidator, assignee, custodian, trustee, or other similar official of some or all of the business or property of the other party;
(e) the institution by or against the other party of any bankruptcy, reorganization, arrangement, insolvency or similar proceedings under the laws of any jurisdiction;
(f) the other party becoming insolvent or generally failing to pay its debts as they become due; or
(g) any action or omission on the part of or against the other party that would lead to the dissolution or winding up of substantially all of its business.
In order to enable the parties to exercise their rights under this Section __, each party hereby agrees to provide the other party with written notice promptly upon the occurrence of any of the events listed in Subsections (a) to (g) above.
Notes and Questions
1. Illegal or customary? Given that ipso facto bankruptcy termination clauses are invalid under US law, why are they so common in IP licensing agreements? Bankruptcy experts offer several explanations for this seeming discrepancy:
These clauses were permissible prior to the enactment of the 1979 Bankruptcy Act, and attorneys may simply include them in agreements due to force of habit.
Such clauses may be valid outside of the United States and thus remain useful in international agreements.
The US law prohibiting ipso facto clauses could change to recognize the validity of such clauses, so it is safest to retain the clauses against such a day.
The Code only prohibits termination that is triggered upon the filing or existence of a “case” under the Bankruptcy Code. Less formal indicia of a debtor’s insolvency may not run afoul of the ipso facto rule.
Which of these rationales is most convincing to you? Would you include an ipso facto bankruptcy termination clause in a contract you were drafting? Why or why not?
Problem 21.3
Your client, Acme Sports, licenses its trademarks, trade secrets and copyrights to third parties around the world in connection with the marketing and manufacturing of athletic wear. Acme Sports has entered into hundreds of these licensing agreements, all of which must be renewed every five years. Acme Sports would like to have the option to terminate a licensing agreement if the licensee files for bankruptcy. As the next round of renewals approaches, what would you, as Acme Sports’ lawyer, recommend? Would you recommend a provision in the contract specifying that Acme Sports may terminate the contract if the licensee becomes insolvent? What about a provision that terminates the contract if a party files for bankruptcy?
21.6 Bankruptcy and Escrow
A licensee of technology – particularly software – will often depend on the licensor to maintain, update and correct errors in the licensed technology throughout the licensee’s period of use. But what happens if the licensor becomes unable to perform those maintenance, updating and error correction services, either through insolvency, bankruptcy or otherwise? If the technology is complex and its inner workings are described in designs, documentation or computer “source code” (see Section 18.1) that are not provided to the licensee as part of its license, then the licensee has little chance of assuming these critical functions once the licensor is out of the picture. As a result, a very expensive technology system may become useless to the licensee that has paid for it.
To guard against this scenario, some licensees require the licensor to place software source code and other design information in “escrow” against the day when the licensor is no longer able to provide critical support and maintenance services.
Heather J. Meeker, 4th ed., 2018 at 90–93
An independent trustee—usually a firm in the business of doing technology escrows—is appointed as the escrow agent for licensor and licensee. The parties enter into a three-way agreement that is essentially a trust arrangement. The licensor delivers a copy of the source code to the escrow agent, and is usually required to deliver a source code update whenever it delivers a corresponding object code update to the licensee under the agreement. Upon occurrence of a triggering event, the escrow agent delivers the escrowed source code to the licensee. The escrow agreement, or the original license agreement, should include a license grant that is effective upon delivery by the escrow agent.
Most of the provisions of escrow agreements are not heavily negotiated. Sometimes the parties negotiate who will pay the fees. Typically the licensee pays these fees, if only because a licensor nearing bankruptcy may not place escrow fees at the top of its financial priorities, and the escrow agent may not be willing to release an escrow deposit with fees due in arrears. Parties also negotiate the dispute resolution mechanism if there is a disagreement over whether a triggering event has occurred. Licensees usually want fast arbitration, because obtaining the source code a year after a bug has appeared and maintenance has ended does not do much to address the licensee’s quiet enjoyment issue.
The heavily negotiated provisions are the trigger events. Some of them relate to bankruptcy, and some do not:
Filing of Chapter 7 (also cessation of business in the ordinary course, liquidation without filing of a bankruptcy provision). This trigger is ubiquitous and seldom controversial.
Filing of Chapter 11. The licensor may argue that, for the reasons discussed above, Chapter 11 will not be likely to interrupt maintenance services.
Breach of the Licensor’s Maintenance Obligations. Licensors are wary of agreeing to this, particularly if the maintenance obligations in the agreement are vague or stringent.
Change of Control of Licensor. This is a “poison pill” for an acquisition of the licensor, and the licensor usually tries to negotiate against it.
When drafting and negotiating licenses that involve escrows, the parties may attach an executed escrow agreement as an exhibit to the document. However, the parties often do not have time to set up the escrow or have the escrow agent sign the document before executing the underlying license. In those cases, you might use the following provision, which is drafted to favor the licensor:
Escrow. No later than 30 days after the Effective Date, the parties shall enter into a source code escrow agreement with [an escrow agent reasonably acceptable to both parties][name of escrow agent], pursuant to which Licensor shall make Licensee the beneficiary of source code and source materials embodying the Software that are deposited by Licensor with such agent. Licensor hereby grants to Licensee the right to use, reproduce, and prepare derivative works of the source code and source materials for the Software and derivative works thereof; provided that Licensee may exercise such rights only in the event of a release of such materials pursuant to such source code escrow agreement, and only for the purpose of maintaining and correcting errors in the Software. The parties agree that such release will take place only if and when Licensor ceases business in the ordinary course. Licensee shall pay all fees associated with such escrow account.
Note the present language of grant in the license: “Licensor hereby grants to Licensee … provided that Licensee may exercise such rights only in the event of a release of such materials pursuant to such source code escrow agreement.” This is the proper way to draft this provision, as opposed to: “Licensor shall grant to Licensee … upon a release of such materials pursuant to such source code escrow agreement.” This is an issue for the licensee’s counsel to spot. The obligation to grant a license may be more difficult to enforce, because it could require a court to mandate the granting of a license, and courts are reluctant to grant mandatory injunctions.
The Flow-Down Problem
There is a lurking issue in software escrows that is rarely considered by licensees. Few software developers today develop their entire product from scratch. Suppose a licensor (DevCo) provides an escrow for a licensee (DistyCo) that intends to redistribute the software. DistyCo’s customers also want an escrow of source code in the event DistyCo goes out of business. But part of the software provided by DistyCo to its customers belongs to licensors like DevCo. DistyCo’s escrow for its customers will not work, because DistyCo probably cannot grant its customers any rights in Devco’s source code. If it did, then in the type of escrow provision described above, a failure of the business of DistyCo would trigger release of the source code of DevCo. DevCo is likely to take a dim view of this.
If this problem arises, one way to solve it is as follows:
If Licensee is in material breach of its support obligations for the Software to any customer of Licensee to whom Licensee has licensed the Software under this Agreement, Licensor shall, at its sole option and discretion, either (a) assume Licensee’s rights and obligations for support of the Software with respect to such customer, including without limitation making such customer the beneficiary of and granting such customer the rights in Software source code and source materials of this Section ___, or (b) instruct the escrow agent to release the source code and source materials to such customer, and grant to such customer the right to use, reproduce, prepare derivative works of, perform, display and transmit the source code and source materials for the Software and derivative works thereof.
This will address the customer’s need for continuing access to technology, but not force DevCo to lose control of its source code.
Escrows in the 21st Century
Escrows have always had their issues. They are often not properly updated by the Licensor, so the binaries the Licensee is using does not correspond with the software in escrow. Source code is often poorly documented, and the Licensee often does not have the human resources to fix problems, even if it has access to source code. Software runs in a larger computing environment, and it is very difficult to capture that environment in an escrow.
Software escrows used to be ubiquitous in software licensing deals, but today, they are much rarer. One reason is that computing has tended to become vertically dis-integrated, so it may be easier to find substitutes for software whose vendor is no longer available. Another is that many technologists are skeptical about the value of escrows, for the reasons given above. Another reason is the rise of cloud computing or SaaS—it is nearly impossible to properly capture a SaaS product in an escrow. So, today, many licensees dispense with the escrow terms of license agreements.
The good news is that open source software has changed how escrows are done. It might be counterintuitive, but open source is great to put in escrow—mainly so that a licensee can capture the exact computing environment for the application it is licensing, with no worries about the right to include these third party components. Open source software has also changed the expectations of licensees; engineers now expect to get source code and not just binaries from vendors, so the function of escrows has changed.
Twenty years ago, asking for an escrow was an expected part of a software license. Today, if you demand an escrow on behalf of a licensee, the licensor may challenge you about why it is necessary, so be prepared to discuss the practicalities of software escrows.
Notes and Questions
1. Escrowed materials. The excerpt from Meeker above focuses on software source code. Do you think that the same considerations would apply to an escrow of other technical information, such as manufacturing diagrams for a mechanical part, bills of materials, ingredients lists and the like?
2. Escrow in practice. Escrow agents are risk-averse, and escrow agreements typically go out of their way to protect the escrow agent from any potential liability. Thus, if a triggering event occurs and the licensee makes a request to obtain source code or other materials from escrow, any objection on the part of the licensor will usually be sufficient to prevent the release until a court has ordered the escrow agent to comply. Why do escrow agents include these provisions in their agreements? Does waiting for a court order frustrate the entire purpose of the escrow?
3. Two-party versus three-party escrow. Technology escrow agreements often come in two flavors: two-party and three-party. Three-party agreements are among the licensor, licensee and escrow agent and specify the conditions under which the agent will release the escrowed materials to the licensee. Two-party agreements only involve the licensor and the agent. These agreements provide for the escrow of materials and payment of the agent’s fees. In addition, the licensor provides the agent with a list – updated periodically – of licensees who are permitted to make claims against the escrow account. Which of these contractual approaches would you prefer if you were the licensee? The licensor?
Summary Contents
What happens when an intellectual property (IP) license is granted, but the underlying IP is later found to be invalid? Is the license still in effect? More importantly, is the licensee still required to pay for it? The answer to these questions is generally “no.” Invalid IP is a legal nullity that cannot be licensed. Moreover, as we will see in Section 24.3, an IP holder commits misuse if it tries to charge royalties after a patent or copyright expires.
But when IP is licensed, who has the greatest incentive to challenge the validity of that IP? Validity challenges are often brought by infringers who are threatened or sued by the IP owner. But what if the infringers have all taken licenses? In many cases, the most logical, if not the only, party with an incentive and standing to challenge an IP right is one of its existing licensees, especially if that licensee is obligated to pay ongoing royalties for the continued use of that IP right.
It thus becomes important to understand when the licensee of an IP right can challenge the validity of licensed IP. And, if such challenges are legally permitted, can the licensee be contractually prohibited from making such a challenge? These seemingly straightforward questions have been the subject of extensive litigation and implicate the very foundations of IP law itself. In this chapter we will review the doctrines of assignor and licensee estoppel, then review the requirements for challenging licensed IP under the Declaratory Judgment Act. We conclude with a discussion of contractual clauses that limit IP challenges by licensees in agreements licensing patents, copyrights and trademarks.
22.1 Assignor Estoppel
To understand the restraints on a licensee’s ability to challenge IP that it has licensed, it is instructive to consider a related doctrine – assignor estoppel. This doctrine, which originated in England in the late eighteenth century, provides that one who sells a patent for valuable consideration may not thereafter challenge the validity of the patent that it has sold.Footnote 1 The idea harkens back to the real property doctrine of “estoppel by deed,” which holds that a seller of property by deed cannot later assert defects in the deed to claim back any right in the property. In effect, it prevents a seller from profiting by its own dishonesty. The Supreme Court recently revisited this ancient doctrine.
210 L. Ed. 2d 689 (U.S. 2021)
KAGAN, JUSTICEFootnote 2
In Westinghouse Elec. & Mfg. Co. v. Formica Insulation Co., 266 U. S. 342 (1924), this Court approved the “well settled” patent-law doctrine of “assignor estoppel.” That doctrine, rooted in an idea of fair dealing, limits an inventor’s ability to assign a patent to another for value and later contend in litigation that the patent is invalid. The question presented here is whether to discard this century-old form of estoppel. Continuing to see value in the doctrine, we decline to do so. But in upholding assignor estoppel, we clarify that it reaches only so far as the equitable principle long understood to lie at its core. The doctrine applies when, but only when, the assignor’s claim of invalidity contradicts explicit or implicit representations he made in assigning the patent.
The invention sparking this lawsuit is a device to treat abnormal uterine bleeding, a medical condition affecting many millions of women. Csaba Truckai, a founder of the company Novacept, Inc., invented the device—called the NovaSure System—in the late 1990s. He soon afterward filed a patent application, and assigned his interest in the application—as well as in any future “continuation applications”—to Novacept. The NovaSure System, as described in Truckai’s patent application, uses an applicator head to destroy targeted cells in the uterine lining. To avoid unintended burning or ablation (tissue removal), the head is “moisture permeable,” meaning that it conducts fluid out of the uterine cavity during treatment. The PTO issued a patent, and in 2001 the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) approved the device for commercial distribution. But neither Truckai nor Novacept currently benefits from the NovaSure System patent. In 2004, Novacept sold its assets, including its portfolio of patents and patent applications, to another company (netting Truckai individually about $8 million). And in another sale, in 2007, respondent Hologic, Inc. acquired all patent rights in the NovaSure System. Today, Hologic sells that device throughout the United States.
Not through with inventing, Truckai founded in 2008 petitioner Minerva Surgical, Inc. There, he developed a supposedly improved device to treat abnormal uterine bleeding. Called the Minerva Endometrial Ablation System, the device (like the NovaSure System) uses an applicator head to remove cells in the uterine lining. But the new device, relying on a different way to avoid unwanted ablation, is “moisture impermeable”: It does not remove any fluid during treatment. The PTO issued a patent for the device, and in 2015 the FDA approved it for commercial sale.
Meanwhile, in 2013, Hologic filed a continuation application requesting to add claims to its patent for the NovaSure System. Aware of Truckai’s activities, Hologic drafted one of those claims to encompass applicator heads generally, without regard to whether they are moisture permeable. The PTO in 2015 issued the altered patent as requested.
A few months later, Hologic sued Minerva for patent infringement. Minerva rejoined that its device does not infringe. But more relevant here, it also asserted that Hologic’s amended patent is invalid. The essential problem, according to Minerva, is that the new, broad claim about applicator heads does not match the invention’s description, which addresses their water-permeability. In response, Hologic invoked the doctrine of assignor estoppel. Because Truckai assigned the original patent application, Hologic argued, he and Minerva (essentially, his alter-ego) could not impeach the patent’s validity. The District Court agreed that assignor estoppel barred Minerva’s invalidity defense, and also ruled that Minerva had infringed Hologic’s patent. At a trial on damages, a jury awarded Hologic about $5 million.
The Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit mainly upheld the judgment, focusing on assignor estoppel. The court first “decline[d] Minerva’s invitation to ‘abandon [that] doctrine.’” Citing both this Court’s precedents and equitable principles, the court affirmed the doctrine’s “continued vitality.” An assignor, the court stated, “should not be permitted to sell something and later to assert that what was sold is worthless, all to the detriment of the assignee.” The assignor makes an “implicit representation” that the rights “he is assigning (presumably for value) are not worthless.” It would “work an injustice,” the court reasoned, to “allow the assignor to make that representation at the time of assignment (to his advantage) and later to repudiate it (again to his advantage).” The court then applied assignor estoppel to bar Truckai and Minerva from raising an invalidity defense. Here, the court rejected Minerva’s argument that because “Hologic broadened the claims” after “Truckai’s assignment,” it would “be unfair to block Truckai (or Minerva) from challenging the breadth of those claims.” Relying on circuit precedent, the court deemed it “irrelevant that, at the time of the assignment, the inventor’s patent application[] w[as] still pending” and that the assignee “may have later amended the claims” without the inventor’s input.
We granted certiorari to consider the important issues raised in the Federal Circuit’s judgment. Assignor estoppel, we now hold, is well grounded in centuries-old fairness principles, and the Federal Circuit was right to uphold it. But the court failed to recognize the doctrine’s proper limits. The equitable basis of assignor estoppel defines its scope: The doctrine applies only when an inventor says one thing (explicitly or implicitly) in assigning a patent and the opposite in litigating against the patent’s owner.
Courts have long applied the doctrine of assignor estoppel to deal with inconsistent representations about a patent’s validity. The classic case (different in certain respects from the one here) begins with an inventor who both applies for and obtains a patent, then assigns it to a company for value. Later, the inventor/assignor joins a competitor business, where he develops a similar—and possibly infringing—product. When the assignee company sues for infringement, the assignor tries to argue—contrary to the (explicit or implicit) assurance given in assigning the patent—that the invention was never patentable, so the patent was never valid. That kind of about-face is what assignor estoppel operates to prevent—or, in legalese, estop. As one of the early American courts to use the doctrine held: The assignor is not “at liberty to urge [invalidity] in a suit upon his own patent against a party who derives title to that patent through him.” Woodward v. Boston Lasting Mach. Co., 60 F. 283, 284 (CA1 1894). Or as the Federal Circuit held in modern times: The assignor’s explicit or “implicit representation” that the patent he is assigning is “not worthless … deprive[s] him of the ability to challenge later the [patent’s] validity.”
Assignor estoppel got its start in late 18th-century England and crossed the Atlantic about a hundred years later. In the first recorded case, Lord Kenyon found that a patent assignor “was by his own oath and deed estopped” in an infringement suit from “attempt[ing] to deny his having had any title to convey.” That rule took inspiration from an earlier doctrine—estoppel by deed—applied in real property law to prevent a conveyor of land from later asserting that he had lacked good title at the time of sale. Lord Kenyon’s new patent formulation of the doctrine grew in favor throughout the 1800s as an aspect of fair dealing: When “the Defendant sold and assigned th[e] patent to the Plaintiffs as a valid one,” it “does not lie in his mouth to say that the patent is not good.” Within a decade or two, the doctrine was “so well established and generally accepted that citation of authority is useless.”
This Court first considered—and unanimously approved—assignor estoppel in 1924, in Westinghouse v. Formica. Speaking through Chief Justice Taft, the Court initially invoked the doctrine’s uniform acceptance in the lower courts. The first decision applying assignor estoppel, the Court recounted, was soon “followed by a myriad.” “[L]ater cases in nearly all the Circuit Courts of Appeal” were “to the same point” as the first, adding up to a full “forty-five years of judicial consideration and conclusion.” Such a “well settled” rule, in the Court’s view, should “not [be] lightly disturb[ed].” And so it was not disturbed, lightly or otherwise. Rather, the Court added its own voice to that pre-existing “myriad.” We announced that an assignor “is estopped to attack” the “validity of a patented invention which he has assigned.” “As to the rest of the world,” the Court explained, “the patent may have no efficacy”; but “the assignor can not be heard to question” the assignee’s rights in what was conveyed.
Westinghouse, like its precursor decisions, grounded assignor estoppel in a principle of fairness. “If one lawfully conveys to another a patented right,” the Court reasoned, “fair dealing should prevent him from derogating from the title he has assigned.” After all, the “grantor purports to convey the right to exclude others”; how can he later say, given that representation, that the grantee in fact possesses no such right? The Court supported that view of equity by referring to estoppel by deed. Under that doctrine, the Court explained, “a grantor of a deed of land” cannot “impeach[] the effect of his solemn act” by later claiming that the grantee’s title is no good. Westinghouse, 266 U. S., at 350. “The analogy” was “clear”: There was “no reason why the principles of estoppel by deed should not apply to [the] assignment of a patent right.” In the latter context too, the Court held, the assignor could not fairly “attack” the validity of a right he had formerly sold.
After thus endorsing assignor estoppel, the Court made clear that the doctrine has limits. Although the assignor cannot assert in an infringement suit that the patent is invalid, the Court held that he can argue about how to construe the patent’s claims. Here, the Court addressed the role in patent suits of prior art—the set of earlier inventions (and other information) used to decide whether the specified invention is novel and non-obvious enough to merit a patent. “Of course,” the Court said, the assignor cannot use prior art in an infringement suit “to destroy the patent,” because he “is estopped to do this.” But he can use prior art to support a narrow claim construction—to “construe and narrow the claims of the patent, conceding their validity.” “Otherwise,” the Court explained, a judge “would be denied” the “most satisfactory means” of “reaching a just conclusion” about the patent’s scope—a conclusion needed to resolve the infringement charge. “The distinction” thus established, the Court thought, “may be a nice one, but seems to be workable.” And, indeed, the Court applied it to decide the case at hand for the assignor, finding that he had not infringed the properly narrowed claim.
Finally, the Court left for another day several other questions about the contours of assignor estoppel. One concerned privity: When was an assignor so closely affiliated with another party that the latter would also be estopped? Another related to consideration: What if an assignor had received only a nominal amount of money for transferring the patent? But the question that most interested the Court was whether estoppel should operate differently if the assignment was not of a granted patent but of a patent application—as in fact was true in that case. The Court saw a possible distinction between the two. In a patent application, the Court began, the inventor “swor[e] to” a particular “specification.” But the exact rights at issue were at that point “inchoate”—not “certainly defined.” And afterward, the Court (presciently) observed, the claims might be “enlarge[d]” at “the instance of the assignee” beyond what the inventor had put forward. That might weaken the case for estoppel. But the Court decided not to decide the issue, given its holding that the assignor had not infringed the (narrowed) patent claim anyway.
Minerva’s main argument here, as in the Federal Circuit, is that “assignor estoppel should be eliminated”—and indeed has been already. We reject that view. The doctrine has lasted for many years, and we continue to accept the fairness principle at its core. Minerva’s back-up contention is that assignor estoppel “should be constrained.” On that score, we find that the Federal Circuit has applied the doctrine too expansively. Today, we clarify the scope of assignor estoppel, including in the way Westinghouse suggested.
In its quest to abolish assignor estoppel, Minerva lodges three main arguments. The first two offer different reasons for why the doctrine is already defunct: because Congress repudiated it in the Patent Act of 1952 and because, even if not, this Court’s post-Westinghouse cases leave no room for the doctrine to continue. The third, by contrast, is a present-day policy claim: that assignor estoppel “imposes” too high a “barrier to invalidity challenges” and so keeps bad patents alive.
[Discussion of statutory interpretation of 1952 Patent Act omitted]
We likewise do not accept Minerva’s view that two of our post-Westinghouse decisions have already interred assignor estoppel. According to Minerva, Scott Paper Co. v. Marcalus Mfg. Co. “eliminated any justification for assignor estoppel and ‘repudiated’ the doctrine.” And if that were not enough, Minerva continues, our decision in Lear, Inc. v. Adkins, 395 U. S. 653 (1969),Footnote 3 also “eviscerated any basis for assignor estoppel.” But we think the words “eliminated,” “repudiated,” and “eviscerated” are far off. Scott Paper and Lear in fact retained assignor estoppel; all they did was police the doctrine’s boundaries (just as Westinghouse did and we do today).
Whatever a worked-up dissent charged, Scott Paper did nothing more than decline to apply assignor estoppel in a novel and extreme circumstance. The petitioner in Scott Paper made the same ask Minerva does here: to abolish the Westinghouse rule. The Court expressly declined that request. And it restated the “basic principle” animating assignor estoppel, describing it as “one of good faith, that one who has sold his invention may not, to the detriment of the purchaser, deny the existence of that which he has sold.” The Court, to be sure, declined to apply the doctrine in the case before it. There, estoppel would have prevented the assignor from making a device on which the patent had expired—a device, in other words, that had already entered the public domain. The Court could not find any precedent for applying estoppel in that situation. And the Court thought that doing so would carry the doctrine too far, reasoning that the public’s interest in using an already-public invention outweighs the “interest in private good faith.” But the Court did not question—again, it reaffirmed—the principle of fairness on which assignor estoppel rests in more common cases, where the assignee is not claiming to control a device unequivocally part of the public domain. In those cases, the doctrine remained intact.
Lear gives Minerva still less to work with. In that case, the Court considered and toppled a different patent estoppel doctrine. Called licensee estoppel, it barred (as its name suggests) a patent licensee from contesting the validity of the patent on a device he was paying to use. Minerva’s basic claim is that as goes one patent estoppel rule, so goes another. But Lear did not purport to decide the fate of the separate assignor estoppel doctrine. To the contrary, the Court stated that the patent holder’s “equities” in the assignment context “were far more compelling than those presented in the typical licensing arrangement.” 395 U. S., at 664. And so they are.
In sum, Scott Paper and Lear left Westinghouse right about where they found it—as a bounded doctrine designed to prevent an inventor from first selling a patent and then contending that the thing sold is worthless. Westinghouse saw that about-face as unfair; Scott Paper and Lear never questioned that view. At the same time, Westinghouse realized that assignor estoppel has limits: Even in approving the doctrine, the Court made clear that not every assignor defense in every case would fall within its scope. Scott Paper and Lear adopted a similar stance. They maintained assignor estoppel, but suggested (if in different ways) that the doctrine needed to stay attached to its equitable moorings. The three decisions together thus show not the doctrinal “eviscerat[ion]” Minerva claims, but only the kind of doctrinal evolution typical of common-law rules.
Finally, we do not think, as Minerva claims, that contemporary patent policy—specifically, the need to weed out bad patents—supports overthrowing assignor estoppel. And we continue to think the core of assignor estoppel justified on the fairness grounds that courts applying the doctrine have always given. Assignor estoppel, like many estoppel rules, reflects a demand for consistency in dealing with others. When a person sells his patent rights, he makes an (at least) implicit representation to the buyer that the patent at issue is valid—that it will actually give the buyer his sought-for monopoly. In later raising an invalidity defense, the assignor disavows that implied warranty. And he does so in service of regaining access to the invention he has just sold. By saying one thing and then saying another, the assignor wants to profit doubly—by gaining both the price of assigning the patent and the continued right to use the invention it covers. That course of conduct by the assignor strikes us, as it has struck courts for many a year, as unfair dealing—enough to outweigh any loss to the public from leaving an invalidity defense to someone other than the assignor.
Still, our endorsement of assignor estoppel comes with limits—true to the doctrine’s reason for being. Just as we guarded the doctrine’s boundaries in the past, so too we do so today. Assignor estoppel should apply only when its underlying principle of fair dealing comes into play. That principle, as explained above, demands consistency in representations about a patent’s validity: What creates the unfairness is contradiction. When an assignor warrants that a patent is valid, his later denial of validity breaches norms of equitable dealing. And the original warranty need not be express; as we have explained, the assignment of specific patent claims carries with it an implied assurance. But when the assignor has made neither explicit nor implicit representations in conflict with an invalidity defense, then there is no unfairness in its assertion. And so there is no ground for applying assignor estoppel.
One example of non-contradiction is when the assignment occurs before an inventor can possibly make a warranty of validity as to specific patent claims. Consider a common employment arrangement. An employee assigns to his employer patent rights in any future inventions he develops during his employment; the employer then decides which, if any, of those inventions to patent. In that scenario, the assignment contains no representation that a patent is valid. How could it? The invention itself has not come into being. And so the employee’s transfer of rights cannot estop him from alleging a patent’s invalidity in later litigation.
A second example is when a later legal development renders irrelevant the warranty given at the time of assignment. Suppose an inventor conveys a patent for value, with the warranty of validity that act implies. But the governing law then changes, so that previously valid patents become invalid. The inventor may claim that the patent is invalid in light of that change in law without contradicting his earlier representation. What was valid before is invalid today, and no principle of consistency prevents the assignor from saying so.
Most relevant here, another post-assignment development—a change in patent claims—can remove the rationale for applying assignor estoppel. Westinghouse itself anticipated this point, which arises most often when an inventor assigns a patent application, rather than an issued patent. As Westinghouse noted, “the scope of the right conveyed in such an assignment” is “inchoate”—“less certainly defined than that of a granted patent.” 266 U. S., at 352–353. That is because the assignee, once he is the owner of the application, may return to the PTO to “enlarge[]” the patent’s claims. And the new claims resulting from that process may go beyond what “the assignor intended” to claim as patentable. Westinghouse did not need to resolve the effects of such a change, but its liberally dropped hints—and the equitable basis for assignor estoppel—point all in one direction. Assuming that the new claims are materially broader than the old claims, the assignor did not warrant to the new claims’ validity. And if he made no such representation, then he can challenge the new claims in litigation: Because there is no inconsistency in his positions, there is no estoppel. The limits of the assignor’s estoppel go only so far as, and not beyond, what he represented in assigning the patent application.
The Federal Circuit, in both its opinion below and prior decisions, has failed to recognize those boundaries. Minerva (recall, Truckai’s alter-ego) argued to the court that estoppel should not apply because it was challenging a claim that was materially broader than the ones Truckai had assigned. But the court declined to consider that alleged disparity. Citing circuit precedent, the court held it “irrelevant” whether Hologic had expanded the assigned claims: Even if so, Minerva could not contest the new claim’s validity. For the reasons given above, that conclusion is wrong. If Hologic’s new claim is materially broader than the ones Truckai assigned, then Truckai could not have warranted its validity in making the assignment. And without such a prior inconsistent representation, there is no basis for estoppel.
We remand this case to the Federal Circuit to now address what it thought irrelevant: whether Hologic’s new claim is materially broader than the ones Truckai assigned. The parties vigorously disagree about that issue. In Truckai’s view, the new claim expanded on the old by covering non-moisture-permeable applicator heads. In Hologic’s view, the claim matched a prior one that Truckai had assigned. Resolution of that issue in light of all relevant evidence will determine whether Truckai’s representations in making the assignment conflict with his later invalidity defense—and so will determine whether assignor estoppel applies.
This Court recognized assignor estoppel a century ago, and we reaffirm that judgment today. But as the Court recognized from the beginning, the doctrine is not limitless. Its boundaries reflect its equitable basis: to prevent an assignor from warranting one thing and later alleging another. Assignor estoppel applies when an invalidity defense in an infringement suit conflicts with an explicit or implicit representation made in assigning patent rights. But absent that kind of inconsistency, an invalidity defense raises no concern of fair dealing—so assignor estoppel has no place.
For these reasons, we vacate the judgment of the Federal Circuit and remand the case for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.
It is so ordered.
Notes and Questions
1. Contracting for estoppel. In Hologic, Minerva (the assignor) argued that the doctrine of assignor estoppel should be abolished entirely. Among other things, it noted that “[a]n assignee who seeks protection against future competition from an assignor need simply negotiate a covenant not to compete in their agreement.” How is a covenant not to compete different than assignor estoppel? Given these differences, how would you respond to Minerva’s argument?
2. Assignor estoppel in the modern workplace. Prior to Hologic, Professor Mark Lemley argued that the assignor estoppel doctrine is largely unnecessary in today’s economy.
The nineteenth-century vision of assignor estoppel was directed at people who themselves sold a patent for profit. But modern assignor estoppel no longer is. Not only does it reach companies that never made such a promise, it extends to patents that did not exist at the time of the deal. More important, assignor estoppel is regularly applied to bind employee-inventors on the basis of their assignment of the patent to their employers. But nothing about the modern employee-inventor suggests that they are selling their inventions to their employers for profit. Employees are regularly required to assign all their inventions as a condition of employment. Those assignment agreements are standard-form contracts, usually presented to the employee on their first day of work, after they have quit their prior job and perhaps relocated. So they apply by definition to inventions that have not yet been made. Companies and universities impose them on all their employees, not just designated inventors; as a research assistant in law school, for instance, I was forced to assign all the inventions I might make during law school. And the employees are not normally paid extra in exchange for assigning their rights. Indeed, employees are sometimes compelled to disclose their inventions against their will so the employer can turn it into a patent. Even if they aren’t, the signing of the inventor’s declaration is a relatively perfunctory act, done long after the employer himself has decided to pursue a patent. Employees may sign an inventorship form even if they doubt the validity of the invention because they fear to lose their job if they don’t. And if the employee can’t or won’t sign the agreement, the law … allows the company to apply for a patent in their name without the employee’s signature, simply by attesting that they were obligated to assign the invention.Footnote 4 Employees who assign their inventions have no ownership or financial interest in any patents that result. The employer holds legal title to the invention even if it was assigned before it was made.Footnote 5
How does the Court in Minerva address Professor Lemley’s arguments? Are you satisfied with its response?
22.2 Licensee Estoppel
Just as the doctrine of assignor estoppel prevents the assignor of a patent from later challenging the validity of that patent, the related doctrine of licensee estoppel prohibits a patent licensee from challenging the validity of a licensed patent. Licensee estoppel has been described as “one of the oldest doctrines in the field of patent law.”Footnote 6 The theory behind the doctrine is that a licensee should not be permitted to enjoy the benefits of a licensing agreement (i.e., protection from suit by the patentee) while simultaneously seeking to void the patent that forms the basis of the agreement. The Supreme Court upheld the doctrine in Automatic Radio Manufacturing Co. v. Hazeltine Research, Inc., 339 U.S. 827, 836 (1950),Footnote 7 but reversed its position and effectively abolished the doctrine in Lear v. Adkins, one of the most famous cases in patent law.
395 U.S. 653 (1969)
HARLAN, JUSTICE
In January of 1953, John Adkins, an inventor and mechanical engineer, was hired by Lear Incorporated for the purpose of solving a vexing problem the company had encountered in its efforts to develop a gyroscope which would meet the increasingly demanding requirements of the aviation industry. The gyroscope is an essential component of the navigational system in all aircraft, enabling the pilot to learn the direction and altitude of his airplane. With the development of the faster airplanes of the 1950’s, more accurate gyroscopes were needed, and the gyro industry consequently was casting about for new techniques which would satisfy this need in an economical fashion. Shortly after Adkins was hired, he developed a method of construction at the company’s California facilities which improved gyroscope accuracy at a low cost. Lear almost immediately incorporated Adkins’ improvements into its production process to its substantial advantage.
At the very beginning of the parties’ relationship, Lear and Adkins entered into a rudimentary one-page agreement which provided that although “[a]ll new ideas, discoveries, inventions etc. related [to] vertical gyros become the property of Mr. John S. Adkins,” the inventor promised to grant Lear a license as to all ideas he might develop “on a mutually satisfactory royalty basis.” As soon as Adkins’ labors yielded tangible results it quickly became apparent to the inventor that further steps should be taken to place his rights to his ideas on a firmer basis. On February 4, 1954, Adkins filed an application with the Patent Office in an effort to gain federal protection for his improvements. At about the same time, he entered into a lengthy period of negotiations with Lear in an effort to conclude a licensing agreement which would clearly establish the amount of royalties that would be paid.
These negotiations finally bore fruit on September 15, 1955, when the parties approved a complex 17-page contract which carefully delineated the conditions upon which Lear promised to pay royalties for Adkins’ improvements. The parties agreed that “if the United States Patent Office refuses to issue a patent on the substantial claims [contained in Adkins’ original patent application] or if such a patent so issued is subsequently held invalid then in any of such events Lear at its option shall have the right forthwith to terminate the specific license so affected or to terminate this entire Agreement …”
As the contractual language indicates, Adkins had not obtained a final Patent Office decision as to the patentability of his invention at the time the licensing agreement was concluded. Indeed, he was not to receive a patent until January 5, 1960.
The progress of Adkins’ effort to obtain a patent followed the typical pattern. In his initial application, the inventor made the ambitious claim that his entire method of constructing gyroscopes was sufficiently novel to merit protection. The Patent Office, however, rejected this initial claim, as well as two subsequent amendments, which progressively narrowed the scope of the invention sought to be protected. Finally, Adkins narrowed his claim drastically to assert only that the design of the apparatus used to achieve gyroscope accuracy was novel. In response, the Office issued its 1960 patent, granting a 17-year monopoly on this more modest claim.
During the long period in which Adkins was attempting to convince the Patent Office of the novelty of his ideas, however, Lear had become convinced that Adkins would never receive a patent on his invention and that it should not continue to pay substantial royalties on ideas which had not contributed substantially to the development of the art of gyroscopy. In 1957, after Adkins’ patent application had been rejected twice, Lear announced that it had searched the Patent Office’s files and had found a patent which it believed had fully anticipated Adkins’ discovery. As a result, the company stated that it would no longer pay royalties on the large number of gyroscopes it was producing at its plant in Grand Rapids, Michigan (the Michigan gyros). Payments were continued on the smaller number of gyros produced at the company’s California plant for two more years until they too were terminated on April 8, 1959 (the California gyros).
As soon as Adkins obtained his patent in 1960, he brought this lawsuit in the California Superior Court. He argued to a jury that both the Michigan and the California gyros incorporated his patented apparatus and that Lear’s failure to pay royalties on these gyros was a breach both of the 1955 contract and of Lear’s quasi-contractual obligations. Although Lear sought to raise patent invalidity as a defense, the trial judge directed a verdict of $16,351.93 for Adkins on the California gyros, holding that Lear was estopped by its licensing agreement from questioning the inventor’s patent. The trial judge took a different approach when it came to considering the Michigan gyros. Noting that the Company claimed that it had developed its Michigan designs independently of Adkins’ ideas, the court instructed the jury to award the inventor recovery only if it was satisfied that Adkins’ invention was novel, within the meaning of the federal patent laws. When the jury returned a verdict for Adkins of $888,122.56 on the Michigan gyros, the trial judge granted Lear’s motion for judgment notwithstanding the verdict, finding that Adkins’ invention had been completely anticipated by the prior art.
Once again both sides appealed, this time to the California Supreme Court, which took yet another approach to the problem presented. The court rejected the Court of Appeals’ conclusion that the 1955 license gave Lear the right to terminate its royalty obligations in 1959. Since the 1955 agreement was still in effect, the court concluded, relying on the language we have already quoted, that the doctrine of estoppel barred Lear from questioning the propriety of the Patent Office’s grant. The court’s adherence to estoppel, however, was not without qualification. After noting Lear’s claim that it had developed its Michigan gyros independently, the court tested this contention by considering “whether what is being built by Lear [in Michigan] springs entirely” (emphasis supplied) from the prior art. Applying this test, it found that Lear had in fact “utilized the apparatus patented by Adkins throughout the period in question,” reinstating the jury’s $888,000 verdict on this branch of the case.
Since the California Supreme Court’s construction of the 1955 licensing agreement is solely a matter of state law, the only issue open to us is raised by the court’s reliance upon the doctrine of estoppel to bar Lear from proving that Adkins’ ideas were dedicated to the common welfare by federal law. In considering the propriety of the State Court’s decision, we are well aware that we are not writing upon a clean slate. The doctrine of estoppel has been considered by this Court in a line of cases reaching back into the middle of the 19th century. Before deciding what the role of estoppel should be in the present case and in the future, it is, then, desirable to consider the role it has played in the past.
While the roots of the doctrine have often been celebrated in tradition, we have found only one 19th century case in this Court that invoked estoppel in a considered manner. And that case was decided before the Sherman Act made it clear that the grant of monopoly power to a patent owner constituted a limited exception to the general federal policy favoring free competition. Kinsman v. Parkhurst, 18 How. 289 (1855).
In [1892], this Court found the doctrine of patent estoppel so inequitable that it refused to grant an injunction to enforce a licensee’s promise never to contest the validity of the underlying patent. “It is as important to the public that competition should not be repressed by worthless patents, as that the patentee of a really valuable invention should be protected in his monopoly …” Pope Manufacturing Co. v. Gormully, 144 U.S. 224, 234 (1892).
Although this Court invoked an estoppel in 1905 without citing or considering Pope’s powerful argument, the doctrine was not to be applied again in this Court until it was revived in Automatic Radio Manufacturing Co. v. Hazeltine Research, Inc., which declared, without prolonged analysis, that licensee estoppel was “the general rule.” In so holding, the majority ignored the teachings of a series of decisions this Court had rendered during the 45 years since [United States v. Harvey Steel Co., 196 U.S. 310 (1905)] had been decided. During this period, each time a patentee sought to rely upon his estoppel privilege before this Court, the majority created a new exception to permit judicial scrutiny into the validity of the Patent Office’s grant. Long before Hazeltine was decided, the estoppel doctrine had been so eroded that it could no longer be considered the “general rule,” but was only to be invoked in an ever-narrowing set of circumstances.
The estoppel rule was first stringently limited in a situation in which the patentee’s equities were far more compelling than those presented in the typical licensing arrangement. Westinghouse Electric & Manufacturing Co. v. Formica Insulation Co., 266 U.S. 342 (1924), framed a rule to govern the recurring problem which arises when the original patent owner, after assigning his patent to another for a substantial sum, claims that the patent is worthless because it contains no new ideas. The courts of appeals had traditionally refused to permit such a defense to an infringement action on the ground that it was improper both “to sell and keep the same thing.” Nevertheless, Formica imposed a limitation upon estoppel which was radically inconsistent with the premises upon which the “general rule” is based. The Court held that while an assignor may not directly attack the validity of a patent by reference to the prior state of the art, he could introduce such evidence to narrow the claims made in the patent. “The distinction seems a nice one but seems to be workable.” Workable or not, the result proved to be an anomaly: if a patent had some novelty Formica permitted the old owner to defend an infringement action by showing that the invention’s novel aspects did not extend to include the old owner’s products; on the other hand, if a patent had no novelty at all, the old owner could not defend successfully since he would be obliged to launch the direct attack on the patent that Formica seemed to forbid. The incongruity of this position compelled at least one court of appeals to carry the logic of the Formica exception to its logical conclusion. In 1940 the Seventh Circuit held that a licensee could introduce evidence of the prior art to show that the licensor’s claims were not novel at all and thus successfully defend an action for royalties.
In Scott Paper Co. v. Marcalus Manufacturing Co., 326 U.S. 249 (1945), this Court adopted a position similar to the Seventh Circuit’s, undermining the basis of patent estoppel even more than [Westinghouse] had done. In Scott, the original patent owner had attempted to defend an infringement suit brought by his assignee by proving that his product was a copy of an expired patent. The Court refused to permit the assignee to invoke an estoppel, finding that the policy of the patent laws would be frustrated if a manufacturer was required to pay for the use of information which, under the patent statutes, was the property of all. Chief Justice Stone, for the Court, did not go beyond the precise question presented by a manufacturer who asserted that he was simply copying an expired patent. Nevertheless it was impossible to limit the Scott doctrine to such a narrow compass. If patent policy forbids estoppel when the old owner attempts to show that he did no more than copy an expired patent, why should not the old owner be also permitted to show that the invention lacked novelty because it could be found in a technical journal or because it was obvious to one knowledgeable in the art? The Scott exception had undermined the very basis of the “general rule.”
“federal law requires that all ideas in general circulation be dedicated to the common good unless they are protected by a valid patent”
The uncertain status of licensee estoppel in the case law is a product of judicial efforts to accommodate the competing demands of the common law of contracts and the federal law of patents. On the one hand, the law of contracts forbids a purchaser to repudiate his promises simply because he later becomes dissatisfied with the bargain he has made. On the other hand, federal law requires that all ideas in general circulation be dedicated to the common good unless they are protected by a valid patent. When faced with this basic conflict in policy, both this Court and courts throughout the land have naturally sought to develop an intermediate position which somehow would remain responsive to the radically different concerns of the two different worlds of contract and patent. The result has been a failure. Rather than creative compromise, there has been a chaos of conflicting case law, proceeding on inconsistent premises. Before renewing the search for an elusive middle ground, we must reconsider on their own merits the arguments which may properly be advanced on both sides of the estoppel question.
It will simplify matters greatly if we first consider the most typical situation in which patent licenses are negotiated. In contrast to the present case, most manufacturers obtain a license after a patent has issued. Since the Patent Office makes an inventor’s ideas public when it issues its grant of a limited monopoly, a potential licensee has access to the inventor’s ideas even if he does not enter into an agreement with the patent owner. Consequently, a manufacturer gains only two benefits if he chooses to enter a licensing agreement after the patent has issued. First, by accepting a license and paying royalties for a time, the licensee may have avoided the necessity of defending an expensive infringement action during the period when he may be least able to afford one. Second, the existence of an unchallenged patent may deter others from attempting to compete with the licensee.
Under ordinary contract principles the mere fact that some benefit is received is enough to require the enforcement of the contract, regardless of the validity of the underlying patent. Nevertheless, if one tests this result by the standard of good-faith commercial dealing, it seems far from satisfactory. For the simple contract approach entirely ignores the position of the licensor who is seeking to invoke the court’s assistance on his behalf. Consider, for example, the equities of the licensor who has obtained his patent through a fraud on the Patent Office. It is difficult to perceive why good faith requires that courts should permit him to recover royalties despite his licensee’s attempts to show that the patent is invalid.
Even in the more typical cases, not involving conscious wrongdoing, the licensor’s equities are far from compelling. A patent, in the last analysis, simply represents a legal conclusion reached by the Patent Office. Moreover, the legal conclusion is predicated on factors as to which reasonable men can differ widely. Yet the Patent Office is often obliged to reach its decision in an ex parte proceeding, without the aid of the arguments which could be advanced by parties interested in proving patent invalidity. Consequently, it does not seem to us to be unfair to require a patentee to defend the Patent Office’s judgment when his licensee places the question in issue, especially since the licensor’s case is buttressed by the presumption of validity which attaches to his patent. Thus, although licensee estoppel may be consistent with the letter of contractual doctrine, we cannot say that it is compelled by the spirit of contract law, which seeks to balance the claims of promisor and promisee in accord with the requirements of good faith.
Surely the equities of the licensor do not weigh very heavily when they are balanced against the important public interest in permitting full and free competition in the use of ideas which are in reality a part of the public domain. Licensees may often be the only individuals with enough economic incentive to challenge the patentability of an inventor’s discovery. If they are muzzled, the public may continually be required to pay tribute to would-be monopolists without need or justification. We think it plain that the technical requirements of contract doctrine must give way before the demands of the public interest in the typical situation involving the negotiation of a license after a patent has issued.
We are satisfied that Automatic Radio Co. v. Hazeltine Research, Inc., itself the product of a clouded history, should no longer be regarded as sound law in respect of its “estoppel” holding, and that holding is now overruled.
“Licensees may often be the only individuals with enough economic incentive to challenge the patentability of an inventor’s discovery. If they are muzzled, the public may continually be required to pay tribute to would-be monopolists without need or justification.”
The terms of the 1955 agreement provide that royalties are to be paid until such time as “the patent is held invalid,” and the fact remains that the question of patent validity has not been finally determined in this case. Thus, it may be suggested that although Lear must be allowed to raise the question of patent validity in the present lawsuit, it must also be required to comply with its contract and continue to pay royalties until its claim is finally vindicated in the courts.
The parties’ contract, however, is no more controlling on this issue than is the State’s doctrine of estoppel, which is also rooted in contract principles. The decisive question is whether overriding federal policies would be significantly frustrated if licensees could be required to continue to pay royalties during the time they are challenging patent validity in the courts.
It seems to us that such a requirement would be inconsistent with the aims of federal patent policy. Enforcing this contractual provision would give the licensor an additional economic incentive to devise every conceivable dilatory tactic in an effort to postpone the day of final judicial reckoning. We can perceive no reason to encourage dilatory court tactics in this way. Moreover, the cost of prosecuting slow-moving trial proceedings and defending an inevitable appeal might well deter many licensees from attempting to prove patent invalidity in the courts. The deterrence effect would be particularly severe in the many scientific fields in which invention is proceeding at a rapid rate. In these areas, a patent may well become obsolete long before its 17-year term has expired. If a licensee has reason to believe that he will replace a patented idea with a new one in the near future, he will have little incentive to initiate lengthy court proceedings, unless he is freed from liability at least from the time he refuses to pay the contractual royalties. Lastly, enforcing this contractual provision would undermine the strong federal policy favoring the full and free use of ideas in the public domain. For all these reasons, we hold that Lear must be permitted to avoid the payment of all royalties accruing after Adkins’ 1960 patent issued if Lear can prove patent invalidity.
The judgment of the Supreme Court of California is vacated and the case is remanded to that court for further proceedings not inconsistent with this opinion.
Notes and Questions
1. State versus federal. Why was Lear appealed to the US Supreme Court from the California Supreme Court, rather than from a federal appellate court? Why do you think that Adkins brought his suit in state rather than federal court?
2. Patent policy. Justice Harlan bases the holding in Lear in large part on the existence of a federal policy that favors the invalidation of improperly issued patents. What is the justification for such a policy, and from what legal source does it derive?
3. Balance of the equities. In weighing the value of the licensee estoppel doctrine, the Lear Court says that “the licensor’s equities are far from compelling,” even in the face of the presumption of validity of patents issued by the PTO. Why?
4. Economic incentives. Why is it likely that “Licensees may often be the only individuals with enough economic incentive to challenge the patentability of an inventor’s discovery”? Should this matter? What about the licensor’s economic position?
5. Why not assignor estoppel? Why does the Court in Lear distinguish between licensee and assignor estoppel? Why does it permit assignor estoppel to survive when it abolishes licensee estoppel?
6. Contract doctrine. What does Justice Harlan mean in Lear when he writes, “although licensee estoppel may be consistent with the letter of contractual doctrine, we cannot say that it is compelled by the spirit of contract law”? What “spirit” of contract law is he referring to, and why does it militate against the licensee estoppel doctrine?
7. Termination. The agreement in Lear states: “if the [PTO] refuses to issue a patent on the substantial claims … Or if such patent so issued is subsequently held invalid then … Lear at its option shall have the right forthwith to terminate the specific license so affected or to terminate this entire Agreement …” (emphasis added). Why would Lear wish to terminate its license? Did it actually exercise its right of termination? Why or why not?
8. Pre-issuance royalties. The Court in Lear avoids the question of whether Lear must pay Adkins royalties for the period from when the licensing agreement was signed in 1955 until the patent issued in 1960. This, the Court concedes, is a question of state contract law, as no patent right yet exists: “it squarely raises the question whether, and to what extent, the States may protect the owners of unpatented inventions who are willing to disclose their ideas to manufacturers only upon payment of royalties.” How would you answer this question? As it turns out, the Court did answer this question ten years later in Aronson v. Quick Point Pencil Co., 440 U.S. 257 (1979) (discussed and reproduced in Section 24.3.2).
9. Benefit of the bargain? In Part III.B of Lear, Justice Harlan acknowledges that under the licensing agreement royalties are to be paid until such time as “the patent is held invalid.” He also notes that, at the time of writing, the patent had not yet been held invalid. Given that the patent issued in 1960 and the Court’s decision was rendered in 1969, it would likely be 1970 or later before Adkins’ patent was finally determined to be invalid (cutting approximately seven years from its full duration). According to the express language of the licensing agreement, if the patent were found to be invalid, Lear was required to pay royalties for the period through the invalidity finding (i.e., 1960 through 1970 [assuming that is when invalidity was found]). But the Court says that if the patent is eventually found invalid, Lear should be relieved of the payment of any future royalties from the date of the patent’s issuance (1960). The difference is ten full years of royalties – a significant amount. Why doesn’t the Court hold Lear to its contractual bargain?
10. Is Lear still needed? Some commentators have observed that when Lear was decided in 1969, a patent licensee was the party most likely to challenge the validity of a patent. However, in the intervening years, it has become much easier and much less expensive to challenge the validity of patents before they are licensed, including at the Patent Trial and Appeals Board (PTAB). Given the increased ease with which patent validity may be challenged today, is there less justification for eliminating the licensee estoppel doctrine? See Rob Merges, Patents, Validity Challenges, and Private Ordering: A New Dispensation for the Easy-Challenge Era (working paper, Dec. 2021)
11. License eviction. Prior to Lear, the doctrine of licensee estoppel held that a licensee was not permitted to dispute the validity of a licensed patent in order to avoid paying royalties. Yet an exception was recognized when the patent was invalidated in a separate proceeding not brought by the licensee. If that occurred, the licensee was said to be “evicted” from the license. As the court explained in Drackett Chem. Co. v. Chamberlain Co., 63 F.2d 853, 854 (6th Cir. 1933):
The subject-matter of such a contract is essentially the monopoly which the grant confers: the right of property which it creates, and, when this monopoly has been destroyed, and the exclusive rights of manufacture, sale, and use, purported to have been created by the patent, are judicially decreed to be no longer exclusive, but are thrown open to the public at large, there has been a complete failure of consideration – an eviction – which should justify a termination of the contract. Prior to such eviction, the mere invalidity of the patent is properly held not to be a sufficient defense, because the licensee may still continue to enjoy all the benefits of a valid patent. It may be respected, and the licensee would then have just what he bargained for … It is only when, by judicial decree or otherwise, it is published to the world that the monopoly is destroyed, that the licensee can claim a corresponding release from his obligation to pay royalties.
Did the doctrine of eviction ameliorate the policy effects of the licensee estoppel doctrine? What perverse results might this doctrine have created?
12. Restitution of paid royalties. The Court in Lear holds that “Lear must be permitted to avoid the payment of all royalties accruing after Adkins’ 1960 patent issued if Lear can prove patent invalidity.” But Lear stopped paying royalties in 1957, when it believed that it found prior art that would invalidate Adkins’ patent. So if the patent were found invalid in 1970 (using our hypothetical from Note 9), Lear would have no obligation to pay royalties to Adkins for the period from 1960 to 1970. But what if Lear, like a good licensee, had paid royalties to Adkins for part of that period (say from 1960 to 1965) before realizing that the patent was likely invalid and ceasing its royalty payments? When the patent was finally invalidated in 1970, would Lear receive a refund of the royalties it paid during the five-year period that it thought the patent was valid? Under the doctrine of “license eviction,” the answer is generally no.
In Drackett, 63 F.2d at 855, the licensee had paid royalties under a licensing agreement for some years before the licensed patent was invalidated in a different proceeding. Once the licensee was thus “evicted” from its license (see Note 10), it had no further obligation to pay royalties under the licensing agreement. However, the court also held that “there was no such mistake of fact (the validity of the patents) as would warrant a recovery of royalties already paid” – implying that only the contractual doctrines of mistake of fact or, perhaps, fraud in the inducement might give rise to a claim for recovery of paid royalties.
The Sixth Circuit revisited the eviction doctrine in Troxel Mfg. Co. v. Schwinn Bicycle Co., 465 F.2d 1253 (6th Cir. 1972) to determine whether Drackett had been overturned by Lear. That is, whether Lear implies that an invalid patent is invalidated ab initio – from the moment it was issued – thus giving the licensee a claim for restitution of all royalties previously paid. In an opinion that continues to be cited today, the Sixth Circuit held not:
A rule that licensees can recover all royalties paid on a patent which later is held to be invalid would do far more than “unmuzzle” licensees. It would give the licensee the advantage of a “heads-I-win, tails-you-lose” option. Lear states that it is in the public interest to encourage an early adjudication of invalidity of patents. Application of the holding of the District Court could defeat early adjudication of invalidity and encourage tardy and marginal litigation. If the licensee could recover royalties paid (subject to any statute of limitations) on the basis of an adjudication of invalidity accomplished by another litigant, without incurring the expense or trouble of litigation, there would be less inducement for him to challenge the patent and thus remove an invalid patent from the competitive scene. He would be more likely to wait for somebody else to battle the issue because he would have nothing to lose by the delay.
Rather than stimulating early litigation to test patent validity, such an interpretation of Lear would make it advantageous for a licensee to postpone litigation, enjoy the fruits of his licensing agreement, and sue for repayment of royalties near the end of the term of the patent. When a licensed patent is about to expire and the threat of injunction no longer exists, a licensee would have little to lose in bringing an action to recover all the money he has paid in royalties on the ground of the invalidity of the patent. The licensee would have a chance to regain all the royalties paid while never having been subjected to the risk of an injunction. Such an interpretation of Lear would defeat one of the expressed purposes of the court in announcing that decision.
Do you agree with the court’s reasoning? Does the result in Troxel diminish the force of Lear? What arguments might be made that a licensee should be entitled to recoup paid royalties after a licensed patent is found to be invalid?
22.3 Validity Challenges Under the Declaratory Judgment Act
In the assignee estoppel cases discussed in Section 22.1, the assignee of a patent was sued for infringement, then raised the invalidity of the asserted patent as a defense. The patentee, in turn, argued that the assignee was estopped from raising the invalidity defense. After Lear, a licensee that believed that a licensed patent was invalid could stop paying royalties and then assert invalidity when the patentee sued it for breach of contract and, after the licensor terminated the licensing agreement for breach, patent infringement.
Though the Supreme Court in Lear sought to “unmuzzle” licensees and enable them to challenge potentially invalid patents, the pathway cleared by Lear was, in reality, a difficult one for licensees. That is, if the licensee wishes to stop paying royalties on a questionable patent, it must intentionally breach the licensing agreement and wait to be sued for nonpayment and infringement before asserting its claim of invalidity. And, of course, there is always a chance (sometimes a large one) that the invalidity defense will fail and the patent will be upheld, in which case the licensee will be no more than a willful infringer. Thus, in order to take advantage of the freedom to challenge afforded by Lear, the licensee must take a substantial risk.
There is, of course, another option. As discussed in Section 5.1, the Declaratory Judgment Act, 28 U.S.C. § 2201, provides that “In a case of actual controversy … any court of the United States … may declare the rights and other legal relations of any interested party seeking such a declaration.” And, as cases such as SanDisk v. STMicroelectronics demonstrate (see Section 5.1), such declaratory judgment actions may be brought to establish the validity of a patent before it is asserted in litigation. Thus, there is a route for parties to challenge the validity of patents in court before they are sued by the patent holder.
There is, however, a catch. The Declaratory Judgment Act requires that in order for a court to hear a declaratory judgment action, there must be “a case of actual controversy.” In Section 5.1 we discussed situations in which a patent holder approaches an alleged infringer, and what degree of “threat” is necessary to give rise to an “actual controversy.” Though the standard has varied over the years, an unlicensed party that may be infringing a patent can often make out a case for declaratory judgment after being “approached” by a patent holder with a licensing offer.
But when one is actually licensed under the patent, where is the threat? Unlike an alleged infringer, a licensee in good standing is not threatened by the patent holder. Does this fact prevent licensees from challenging licensed patents under the Declaratory Judgment Act? In Gen-Probe Inc. v. Vysis, Inc., 359 F.3d 1376 (Fed. Cir. 2004), the Federal Circuit held that under the Declaratory Judgment Act, no case or controversy exists while a license remains in force. To challenge a licensed patent, the licensee must stop paying royalties and breach the licensing agreement. This breach creates a case or controversy, which gives the licensee jurisdiction under the Act. However, it also places the licensee in a difficult spot: It is in breach of the contract, it could be subject to contractual damages, it risks treble damages for willful infringement as well as the loss of its right to operate its business if the patent is ultimately found to be valid, and it also loses any other benefits that it enjoyed under the terminated licensing agreement (e.g., licenses under other patents or IP rights not being challenged). Nevertheless, Judge Rader, writing for the court, explained that:
[P]ermitting Gen-Probe to pursue a lawsuit without materially breaching its license agreement yields undesirable results. Vysis voluntarily relinquished its statutory right to exclude by granting Gen-Probe a nonexclusive license. In so doing, Vysis chose to avoid litigation as an avenue of enforcing its rights. Allowing this action to proceed would effectively defeat those contractual covenants and discourage patentees from granting licenses. In other words, in this situation, the licensor would bear all the risk, while licensee would benefit from the license’s effective cap on damages or royalties in the event its challenge to the patent’s scope or validity fails.
Under these circumstances, there is not a reasonable apprehension of suit. Therefore, this court holds that no actual controversy supports jurisdiction under the Declaratory Judgment Act for Gen-Probe’s suit against Vysis over the … patent.
This result, harsh as it was for licensees, remained in force for only three years. In 2007, the Supreme Court overturned Gen-Probe in MedImmune, Inc. v. Genentech, Inc., 549 U.S. 118 (2007). In 1997, MedImmune entered into a licensing agreement with Genentech for multiple patents and patent applications. In 2001, one of the patent applications matured into an issued patent and Genentech notified MedImmune that royalties were due with respect to MedImmune’s respiratory drug Synagis. MedImmune believed that the patent, as issued, was invalid. In response, it did two things. First, to avoid breaching the agreement, it paid the royalties demanded by Genentech (albeit under protest). Second, it brought an action in district court seeking a declaration of the patent’s invalidity. Citing Gen-Probe, the district court dismissed MedImmune’s claim, and the Federal Circuit affirmed. In an opinion written by Justice Scalia, the Supreme Court reversed.
First, the Court recognized that MedImmune considered Genentech’s royalty demand letter “to be a clear threat to enforce the … patent, terminate the 1997 license agreement, and sue for patent infringement if [MedImmune] did not make royalty payments as demanded.” In considering whether MedImmune was required to cease making royalty payments in order to avail itself of the Declaratory Judgment Act, Justice Scalia analogized the situation to one in which a petitioner is permitted to challenge the Constitutionality of a law without actually violating the law, or to ask a court to opine on the legality of demolishing a building before “drop[ping] the wrecking ball.” In these examples, it is reasonable for a court to recognize the existence of a “controversy” without the need for the plaintiff to inflict substantial self-injury upon itself. Likewise, the Court held that MedImmune “was not required, insofar as Article III is concerned, to break or terminate its 1997 license agreement before seeking a declaratory judgment in federal court that the underlying patent is invalid, unenforceable, or not infringed.”
In ruling for MedImmune, the Court quoted the standard for declaratory judgment relief articulated in Maryland Casualty Co. v. Pacific Coal & Oil Co., 312 U.S. 270, 273 (1941):
Whether the facts alleged, under all circumstances, show that there is a substantial controversy between parties having adverse legal interests of sufficient immediacy and reality to warrant the issuance of a declaratory judgment.
In doing so, it eliminated any requirement that a licensee breach its licensing agreement in order to challenge the validity of licensed patents.
Notes and Questions
1. MedImmune and Lear. At the Federal Circuit, MedImmune argued that “under Lear v. Adkins, it has the absolute right to challenge the validity or enforceability of the patent, whether or not it breaches the license and whether or not it can be sued by the patentee.” The Federal Circuit, relying on Gen-Probe, rejected this argument. But the Supreme Court hardly mentioned Lear in its opinion. Why not? Does the ruling in MedImmune support or contradict the policy considerations raised in Lear?
2. Incentives. The Court’s decision in MedImmune makes it easier for a licensee to challenge the validity of a licensed patent. What types of conduct might this decision encourage?
3. What is a threat? In MedImmune, as in many biopharma licensing disputes, a single Genentech patent was at issue. MedImmune successfully argued that its failure to pay royalties with respect to that patent would expose it to an infringement suit by Genentech – a threat sufficient to confer standing on MedImmune to challenge the patent in a declaratory judgment action. In contrast, in Apple Inc. v. Qualcomm Inc., 992 F.3d 1378 (Fed. Cir. 2021), Apple and Qualcomm settled global patent litigation with an agreement under which Qualcomm granted Apple a six-year royalty-bearing license to tens of thousands of patents. After this, Apple continued to prosecute invalidity challenges against two Qualcomm patents at the Patent Trial and Appeals Board (PTAB); these challenges were appealed to the Federal Circuit. The Federal Circuit held that Apple lacked standing to maintain its suit.Footnote 8 First, it reasoned that the invalidity of the two patents, even if proven, would not affect Apple’s royalty obligation under the global licensing agreement.Footnote 9 Second, Apple provided no evidence that it would manufacture a product that infringed the patents after the expiration of the licensing agreement. Finally, Apple’s contention that Qualcomm had exhibited a pattern of suing licensees, including Apple, after licensing agreements expired was too speculative to confer standing on Apple. Do you agree? Under what circumstances, if any, should Apple be permitted to challenge patents within the large portfolio licensed by Qualcomm? Is there a public interest arising under Lear in allowing such challenges?
4. Declaratory Judgment Jurisdiction. In Red Wing Shoe Co. v. Hockerson-Halberstadt, Inc., 148 F.3d 1355 (Fed. Cir. 1998), HHI, a Louisiana-based patent assertion entity (PAE), sent Red Wing a demand letter and invitation to license. HHI then entered into correspondence with Red Wing, in which HHI granted Red Wing an extension of time and then rebutted Red Wing’s contentions of noninfringement. At that point, Red Wing brought a declaratory judgment action against HHI in its home jurisdiction of Minnesota. HHI moved to dismiss based on a lack of personal jurisdiction. Red Wing argued that the three letters sent by HHI to Red Wing at its Minnesota location “not only sought to inform Red Wing of potential infringement but also solicited business with Red Wing in Minnesota.” The district court determined that it lacked personal jurisdiction over HHI and the Federal Circuit affirmed. In Trimble Inc. v. Perdiemco LLC, 997 F.3d 1147 (Fed. Cir. 2021), the plaintiff PAE exchanged a total of twenty-two communications with the defendant over a period of three months. This, the court ruled, “easily satisfied” the personal jurisdiction requirement in a declaratory judgment action brought by the defendant in its home jurisdiction. The court specifically held that Red Wing did not compel a finding in the plaintiff’s favor on the facts of this case. Given these two data points (three versus twenty-two communications), just how much correspondence must a patent holder have with a potential licensee before being subject to the jurisdiction of the defendant’s home court? To what extent do these cases encourage patent holders to adopt a “sue first, talk later” strategy?
22.4 No-Challenge Clauses
22.4.1 Agreements Not to Challenge
Lear eliminated the estoppel doctrine that prevented licensees from challenging the validity of licensed patents, and MedImmune opened the way for licensees to challenge validity through declaratory judgment actions without having to breach their licensing agreements. With these new avenues open for challenges to the validity of licensed patents, it is not surprising that transactional practices quickly adapted to prohibit such challenges through so-called “no-challenge” or “no-contest” clauses. Below is an example of such a clause.
a. Licensee agrees that it shall not, at any time in the future, directly or indirectly aid, assist or participate in any action contesting or seeking to limit the validity, scope or enforceability of any Licensed Patent in any court, review board or tribunal or before any patent office or administration anywhere in the world, or knowingly disclose to any third party or to the public any document, record, prior art or other information that could have the effect of assisting in any current or future action contesting the validity, scope or enforceability of any Licensed Patent, except as may be required by law or order of any court of competent jurisdiction.
b. Licensee expressly waives any and all invalidity and unenforceability defenses that it may have in any future litigation, arbitration or proceeding relating to the Licensed Patents.
As you can see, the above example prohibits the licensee both from affirmatively challenging the validity of any licensed patent (both in court and at the PTO) and from asserting any invalidity defense in any future proceeding with licensor.
Not surprisingly, the rise of no-challenge clauses soon led to litigation over their enforceability in a range of contexts. Lear remains strong precedent, and its general encouragement of validity challenges has prevented the widespread adoption of no-challenge clauses. Yet these clauses appear in a widening group of licensing agreements, as discussed in Flex-Foot.
238 F.3d 1362 (Fed. Cir. 2001)
LINN, CIRCUIT JUDGE
Background
This is the third litigation between [CRP, Inc. d/b/a Springlite (“Springlite”)] and [Flex-Foot, Inc. and Van L. Phillips (collectively “Flex-Foot”)] regarding U.S. Patent No. 4,822,363 (the “ ’363 patent”). In 1989, Flex-Foot brought the first lawsuit against Springlite for infringement of the ’363 patent. That action was promptly settled and dismissed by way of a settlement agreement and a corresponding license agreement in which Springlite agreed to pay a royalty on the accused Springlite device.
Springlite contends that its primary motivation in settling with Flex-Foot at that time was economic. Springlite did not have the financial resources to defend against Flex-Foot’s infringement claims. Neither the settlement agreement nor the license agreement acknowledged that Springlite’s device infringed the ’363 patent. In addition, neither agreement barred Springlite from later challenging the validity of the ’363 patent. In fact, the license expressly provided that it would expire upon judicial determination that the ’363 patent was invalid.
Springlite brought a second action in 1993 (the “DJ action”), seeking a declaration that the ’363 patent was invalid. The parties thereafter conducted discovery and fully briefed a motion for summary judgment regarding Springlite’s invalidity allegations. While that motion was pending, however, the parties settled the case in March 1994 via another settlement agreement (the “March 1994 Settlement Agreement”) and corresponding license agreement (the “March 1994 License Agreement”).
The March 1994 Settlement Agreement contains language making it clear that Springlite waived its right to challenge the validity and enforceability of the ’363 patent. Specifically, paragraph 7.1 states:
7.1 The CRP Group agrees not to challenge or cause to be challenged, directly or indirectly, the validity or enforceability of the ’913 patent and/or the ’363 patent in any court or other tribunal, including the United States Patent and Trademark Office. As to the ’363 and ’913 patents only, the CRP Group waives any and all invalidity and unenforceability defenses in any future litigation, arbitration, or other proceeding.
In addition, paragraph 6 of the March 1994 License Agreement states:
CRP agrees not to challenge or cause to be challenged, directly or indirectly, the validity or unenforceability, or scope of the ’913 patent and/or the ’363 patent in any court or tribunal, or before the United States Patent and Trademark Office or in any arbitration proceeding. This waiver is expressly limited to challenges to the ’363 and ’913 patents, but applies without exception to any and all products which CRP may make, use or sell in the future. CRP also waives any argument that the licensed products are not covered by one or more claims of the ’913 or ’363 patent.
The March 1994 Settlement Agreement also required arbitration of any infringement claims. Pursuant to the March 1994 Settlement Agreement and the March 1994 License Agreement, the parties entered into a stipulation for dismissal of the DJ action with prejudice.
In 1997, Flex-Foot filed a complaint alleging that Springlite’s “G-Foot” prosthetic foot device infringed the ’363 patent (the “1997 Complaint”). In accordance with the March 1994 Settlement Agreement, the 1997 Complaint was sent to arbitration. In January 1999, Flex-Foot successfully obtained an arbitration award from the American Arbitration Association (“AAA”). That decision, rendered by a panel of three patent attorneys mutually selected by the parties, found that the accused Springlite device literally infringed asserted claims 16 and 17 of the ’363 patent. The arbitration panel awarded Flex-Foot the costs of the arbitration. Soon thereafter, Springlite requested that the arbitrators clarify or modify their award, as well as set forth clear statements about the scope of the contested claim elements. The arbitrators declined both requests.
As a defense to the charge of infringement in the 1997 Complaint, Springlite alleged invalidity of the ’363 patent, and subsequent to the arbitrators’ award, filed a motion with the district court to vacate the award and consider the invalidity defense. In response, Flex-Foot filed a motion to affirm the arbitration award. The district court granted Flex-Foot’s motion to confirm the arbitration award and entered a permanent injunction against Springlite, concluding that Springlite was “collaterally estopped” from challenging the validity and enforceability of Flex-Foot’s ’363 patent.
Springlite appeals the arbitration panel’s award and the district court’s judgment to this court. We have jurisdiction over Springlite’s appeal from the district court’s judgment.
Discussion
The arbitration award did not address Springlite’s challenge to the validity of the ’363 patent. Upon … reviewing the award, the district court held that the validity of Flex-Foot’s patents could not be litigated. It so held because it determined that Springlite was collaterally estopped from challenging the validity of the ’363 patent, based on paragraph 7.1 of the March 1994 Settlement Agreement and paragraph 6 of the March 1994 Licensing Agreement.
Springlite argues that the district court’s holding – that it is collaterally estopped from challenging the validity of the ’363 patent – is in error. Springlite contends that it did not agree to enter into any type of judgment adjudicating the issues of infringement and validity. Despite Springlite’s protestations, we note that Springlite did agree to a dismissal with prejudice following a settlement agreement that included a promise that Springlite would not challenge the validity of the ’363 patent. We hold that … such a dismissal with prejudice and accompanying settlement agreement certainly gives rise to contractual estoppel of Springlite’s challenge to the ’363 patent’s validity. The question is whether such contractually created estoppel is void as against public policy pursuant to Lear v. Adkins.
Springlite does not contend that its intent in entering into the March 1994 Settlement Agreement and March 1994 Licensing Agreement was anything other than a waiver of future challenges to the ’363 patent’s validity. Instead, Springlite argues that it should be entitled, under the public policy rationale set forth in Lear, to renege on its prior written agreement with Flex-Foot.
In Lear, notably, the license did not contain, and was not accompanied by, any promise by the licensee not to challenge the validity of the patent. This distinguishing fact is meaningful because it implicates the important policy of enforcing settlement agreements and res judicata. Indeed, the important policy of enforcing settlement agreements and res judicata must themselves be weighed against the federal patent laws’ prescription of full and free competition in the use of ideas that are in reality a part of the public domain.
In addition to the present case being meaningfully distinguishable from Lear, we note that this court has in the past distinguished a number of other cases from Lear.
[Hemstreet v. Spiegel, Inc., 851 F.2d 348 (Fed. Cir. 1988)] concerns settlement of an infringement trial that had progressed for a single week. The settlement, which included a stipulation requiring the licensee to make payments without regard to any subsequent determination of invalidity or unenforceability, was memorialized in a settlement order signed by the parties’ representatives and the district court. The court’s settlement order dismissed the action and stated that “the issues of validity, unenforceability and infringement of” the patents were finally concluded and disposed of. In a subsequent lawsuit, the parties disputed whether the settlement order created res judicata. We held that a dismissal based upon a settlement order in which “‘the issues of validity, enforceability and infringement of’ the patents in suit were finally concluded and disposed of,” barred a subsequent challenge to the validity and enforceability of those patents by the same party, whether or not the settlement order and dismissal actually adjudicated patent validity to create res judicata. We also stated, “there is a compelling public interest and policy in upholding and enforcing settlement agreements voluntarily entered into” because enforcement of settlement agreements encourages parties to enter into them – thus fostering judicial economy.
Thus, the holding in Hemstreet was premised on the policy that while the federal patent laws favor full and free competition in the use of ideas in the public domain over the technical requirements of contract doctrine, settlement of litigation is more strongly favored by the law. Clearly, the importance of res judicata and its hierarchical position in the realm of public policy was not a relevant consideration in Lear and therefore the Supreme Court never evaluated the importance of res judicata and whether it trumps the patent laws’ prescription of full and free competition in the use of ideas that are in reality a part of the public domain. See id.
This court had the occasion to revisit Lear’s holding in [Foster v. Hallco Mfg. Co., 947 F.2d 469 (Fed. Cir. 1991)]. Foster concerns termination of an infringement suit via a consent decree, i.e., a decision by the court to which the parties have agreed. In the consent decree, Foster acknowledged the validity and infringement of the patents at issue. About four years after entry of the consent decree, Foster began making a new device, and informed the patentee Hallco that the device did not infringe the patents at issue in the prior litigation. Hallco disagreed. When Foster subsequently filed a declaratory judgment action that the patents were invalid and unenforceable, Hallco asserted an affirmative defense of res judicata, based on the consent decree declaring that the patents are valid and enforceable. Foster alleged that, because the consent decree was essentially an agreement not to challenge the patent, it therefore was unenforceable under Lear.
We held that Lear’s abrogation of licensee estoppel did not change the fact that a consent decree gives rise to res judicata. The Foster court could not conclude that the public policy expressed in Lear is so overriding that challenges to validity must be allowed when, under normal principles of res judicata applicable to a consent judgment, such judgment would be precluded. Foster echoes Hemstreet’s teaching that there is a strong public interest in settlement of patent litigation and that upholding the terms of a settlement encourages patent owners to agree to settlements – thus fostering judicial economy. These interests are relevant to the instant case, even though this case deals with a settlement agreement and resulting dismissal with prejudice, rather than a consent decree.
“while the federal patent laws favor full and free competition in the use of ideas in the public domain over the technical requirements of contract doctrine, settlement of litigation is more strongly favored by the law”
We note that this is the third litigation between Flex-Foot and Springlite. Springlite has already challenged the validity of the ’363 patent twice, voluntarily ending that challenge via settlement and licensing agreements on both occasions. In the latest settlement agreement, Springlite promised not to challenge the validity and enforceability of the ’363 patent. There has been no allegation that the latest settlement was anything other than a voluntary waiver of future challenges to the ’363 patent’s validity. Moreover, in this challenge, the parties conducted discovery and fully briefed opposing summary judgment motions on the issue of invalidity. The latest settlement occurred on the eve of the summary judgment briefing. Indeed, Springlite’s behavior is exactly the type of behavior that both Hemstreet and Foster were concerned with when they noted the strong public interest in enforcing settlements. Settlement agreements must be enforced if they are to remain effective as a means for resolving legal disagreements. Upholding the terms of settlement agreements encourages patent owners to agree to settlements and promotes judicial economy.
Once an accused infringer has challenged patent validity, has had an opportunity to conduct discovery on validity issues, and has elected to voluntarily dismiss the litigation with prejudice under a settlement agreement containing a clear and unambiguous undertaking not to challenge validity and/or enforceability of the patent in suit, the accused infringer is contractually estopped from raising any such challenge in any subsequent proceeding.
Based on the clear and unambiguous waiver of future challenges to the validity of the ’363 patent in the settlement agreement voluntarily entered into by the parties in this case, we hold that Springlite is contractually estopped from challenging the validity of the ’363 patent and affirm the district court’s judgment in favor of Flex-Foot.
Notes and Questions
1. Competing policy goals. In Flex-Foot, the Federal Circuit relies on two earlier decisions, Hemstreet and Foster, which expressed different policy goals than Lear. In fact, the policy goals expressed in these cases appear to have been strong enough to overcome Lear’s aversion restrictions on the ability to challenge patents on invalidity grounds. What policy goals were set forth in Hemstreet and Foster, and why are they more influential than those set forth in Lear?
2. Beyond settlements? Flex-Foot establishes that no-challenge clauses are enforceable in settlement agreements, given overriding policy considerations favoring the settlement of litigation. What other types of agreements might categorically be held to permit no-challenge clauses?
3. What is a challenge? Lear and most other cases interpreting a licensee’s ability to “challenge” the validity of a licensed patent involve a licensee’s assertion of the affirmative defenses of patent invalidity and unenforceability. But what about other actions that could narrow the scope of the licensed patent claims? Are these prohibited “challenges”?
In Transocean Offshore Deepwater Drilling, Inc. v. Noble Corp. PLC, 451 F. Supp. 3d 690 (S.D. Tex. 2020), the parties had entered into a settlement agreement containing the following no-challenge clause:
Licensee covenants that it will not participate as a party or financially support a third party in any administrative or court proceeding or effort in the world to invalidate, oppose, nullify, reexamine, reissue or otherwise challenge the validity, enforceability, or scope of any claim of the Licensed Patents.
In a subsequent infringement suit between the parties, the licensee argued that the licensor had disavowed claim scope by distinguishing prior art and proposed a construction of previously construed claim language that narrows the scope of the claim. The licensor argued that these actions amounted to “challenges” to the “scope of any claims of the Licensed Patents,” in violation of the contractual no-challenge clause.
The court, however, threw up its hands, holding that “the meaning of the language ‘challenge the … scope of any claim’ is uncertain and doubtful, and the language is reasonably susceptible to more than one meaning.” Do you agree that the language of the no-challenge clause is irredeemably vague? If so, how would you amend this language so that it is sufficiently clear to prohibit (or allow) the licensee’s actions? Does the language in the example clause above address the court’s concern?
22.4.2 No-Challenge Clauses in Copyright and Trademark Licenses
Lear was a patent case, and the public interest goals that it expressed were largely related to patents. But there are reasons that owners of other IP rights might like to include no-challenge clauses in their licensing agreements. Does Lear prohibit this? Or is the old doctrine of licensee estoppel still alive and well outside of patent law, making such contractual prohibitions unnecessary?
The Seventh Circuit considered these questions as they pertain to copyright in Saturday Evening Post v. Rumbleseat Press, Inc., 816 F.2d 1191 (7th Cir. 1987). In 1979 the Saturday Evening Post Company granted Rumbleseat Press an exclusive license to manufacture porcelain dolls derived from certain Norman Rockwell illustrations that appeared in the Saturday Evening Post. Paragraph 9 of the license agreement provided that Rumbleseat “shall not, during the Original Term [of the agreement] or any time thereafter dispute or contest, directly or indirectly, [the] validity of any of the copyrights … which [the Post] may have obtained.”
The Seventh Circuit found Saturday Evening Post’s no-challenge clause to be valid and enforceable. Judge Richard Posner, writing for the court, first considered the salutary effects of such a clause:
Without it the licensee always has a club over the licensor’s head: the threat that if there is a dispute the licensee will challenge the copyright’s validity. The threat would discourage copyright licensing and might therefore retard rather than promote the diffusion of copyrighted works. Also, a no-contest clause might actually accelerate rather than retard challenges to invalid copyrights, by making the would-be licensee think hard about validity before rather than after he signed the licensing agreement. Rumbleseat had, in fact, used its expressed doubts of the validity of the Post’s copyrights to obtain a lower royalty rate in the negotiations for the license.
He then discusses whether policy considerations, particularly those set forth in Lear, weighed against such clauses in copyright agreements. He finds that they do not, noting first that “the logic of Lear does not extend to copyright licenses.” He explains:
A patent empowers its owner to prevent anyone else from making or using his invention; a copyright just empowers its owner to prevent others from copying the particular verbal or pictorial or aural pattern in which he chooses to express himself. The economic power conferred is much smaller. There is no need for a rule that would automatically invalidate every no-contest clause. If a particular clause is used to confer monopoly power beyond the small amount that the copyright laws authorize, the clause can be attacked under section 1 of the Sherman Act as a contract in restraint of trade. Rumbleseat does not argue that the clause here restrained trade in that sense. The fact that we can find no antitrust case – or for that matter any other reported case – that deals with a no-contest clause in a copyright license is evidence that these clauses are not such a source of significant restraints on freedom to compete as might warrant a per se rule of illegality.
Thus, the court held that there were no countervailing policy considerations that weighed strongly against Saturday Evening Post’s no-challenge clause, and upheld the clause.
A different result obtains, however, in the area of certification marks, as discussed in the following case.
335 F.3d 130 (2d Cir. 2003)
FEINBERG, CIRCUIT JUDGE
Plaintiff Idaho Potato Commission (“IPC”) appeals from a May 2002 Memorandum and Order (“May 2002 Order”) of the United States District Court for the Southern District of New York (Brieant, J.), vacating a $ 41,962 jury award for the IPC in its certification mark infringement suit under the Lanham Act against M&M Produce Farm and Sales, M&M Packaging, Inc., and Matthew and Mark Rogowski individually (collectively “M&M”).
Defendant M&M cross-appeals from the court’s August 1998 Memorandum and Order (“August 1998 Order”) … holding that M&M was barred from seeking cancellation of the IPC marks by a no-challenge provision in its licensing agreement with the IPC. M&M argues on appeal that the no-challenge provision should not be enforced because it violates the public policy embodied in the Lanham Act.
Background
The IPC is an agency created by Idaho statute to promote the sale of Idaho russet potatoes and to prevent the substitution of potatoes grown in other regions as Idaho potatoes. To further these goals, the IPC has registered a number of certification marks with the United States Patent and Trademark Office, two of which are relevant to this appeal: (1) the word “IDAHO” in a distinctive font; and (2) the phrase “GROWN IN IDAHO” written inside an outline of the boundaries of the state of Idaho (collectively “the IPC marks”). Each mark certifies that “goods so marked are grown in the State of Idaho.”
The IPC controls its marks through an elaborate licensing system that seeks to ensure the quality and geographic authenticity of potatoes packed in containers bearing the IPC marks. This system requires everyone in the chain of distribution, from in-state growers to out-of-state repackers and resellers, to be licensed in order to use the IPC certification marks on their packaging. Licensed vendors are also prevented from selling Idaho potatoes to non-licensed customers for repacking or reselling.
The standard licensing agreements provide licensees with the right to use the IPC marks, an important benefit because certified Idaho potatoes sell for more than non-Idaho potatoes. In return, licensees agree, among other things, to use the IPC marks only on potatoes that are certified as grown in Idaho and that meet the IPC’s other quality standards. Licensees also agree to maintain purchase and sale records so that the IPC can check periodically for compliance and prevent “counterfeiting” (putting non-Idaho potatoes in bags bearing the IPC marks.)
M&M is a small business in New York owned and operated by two brothers, Matthew and Mark Rogowski. M&M’s main business is growing onions on a small farm, but because onions are a seasonal crop, the brothers also repack potatoes to stay in business throughout the year. In 1990, M&M entered into a licensing agreement with the IPC and was given the right to use the IPC’s certification marks, subject to the terms in the agreement. While M&M was a licensee, it would purchase potatoes in bulk from licensed Idaho potato vendors and would repackage those potatoes into small five-pound bags bearing the certification marks.
In 1994, M&M received a notice of audit from the IPC requesting M&M’s records with regard to all Idaho potatoes bought and sold. Because M&M did not produce sufficient records, the IPC considered M&M in breach of the licensing agreement and requested that M&M return its license. In February 1995, M&M voluntarily gave up the license and consequently no longer had the right to use the IPC marks.
After returning the license, however, M&M continued repacking Idaho potatoes in bags with the IPC marks.
In November 1997, the IPC filed the current lawsuit against M&M alleging: (1) trademark infringement, (2) false designation of origin and dilution, and (3) unlawful and unfair competition in violation of various New York and Idaho statutes and common law.
In response, M&M filed counterclaims for, among other things, cancellation of the IPC marks under federal and state law. M&M argued that the IPC marks should be cancelled for numerous reasons, including that the IPC abused its marks by: discriminately refusing to certify potatoes that were grown in Idaho, imposing standards for certification beyond the geographic origin the marks are registered to certify, and using its certification marks for purposes other than to certify, all in violation of the Lanham Act. M&M also alleged that the IPC lacks the independence necessary for certification mark owners under the Lanham Act.
[The district] court held [in the August 1998 Order] that M&M was estopped from challenging the IPC marks by a provision in its licensing agreement in which M&M (1) acknowledged that the marks “are valid, registered marks;” and (2) agreed that it would “not during the term of the agreement, or at any time thereafter, attack the title or any rights” of the IPC in the relevant marks.
M&M cross-appeals from the August 1998 Order holding M&M estopped from attacking the validity of the IPC marks.
Discussion
Because the jury’s verdict against M&M was predicated on the IPC’s ownership of valid certification marks, we first discuss M&M’s cross-appeal challenging the district court’s August 1998 ruling that M&M was … estopped by the licensing agreement from attacking those marks.
The facts relevant to the issue are not in dispute. M&M signed a licensing agreement with the IPC in which M&M recognized the validity of the IPC marks and promised not to attack the rights of the IPC in those marks during the term of the agreement or at any time thereafter. The basic question on the facts before us, therefore, is whether such a provision in a certification mark licensing agreement is enforceable against a licensee when the licensee no longer holds a license. This question has apparently not yet been squarely decided by any federal circuit court.
M&M contends that the no-challenge provision in its licensing agreement should not be enforced because it violates the public policy embodied in the Lanham Act. It argues that by requiring licensees to forever waive their statutory right to challenge the IPC’s marks, the IPC effectively avoids enforcement of the Lanham Act. M&M relies principally on the Supreme Court’s opinion in Lear, Inc. v. Adkins, which held that the contract doctrine of licensee estoppel was trumped by the federal policy embodied in the patent laws. M&M argues that Lear should apply to certification mark licenses as it does to patent licenses because the public interest in both is similar.
We begin our analysis with the Supreme Court’s opinion in Lear. The general rule of licensee estoppel provides that when a licensee enters into an agreement to use the intellectual property of a licensor, the licensee effectively recognizes the validity of that property and is estopped from contesting its validity in future disputes. As noted above, the Supreme Court in Lear held that the doctrine does not necessarily control in disputes over the validity of patents. The Court identified in the patent laws the “strong federal policy favoring the full and free use of ideas in the public domain.”
Courts applying the principles articulated in Lear to patent disputes have enforced no-challenge contract provisions only when the interests in doing so outweigh the public interest in discovering invalid patents. Thus, in Flex-Foot, the United States Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit recently enforced an estoppel provision in a settlement agreement only after determining that the public policy in favor of settlements outweighed the public interest in patents.
Other courts, including this one, have weighed these interests to reach differing results, but each has recognized the applicability of the balancing test first articulated in Lear.
The Lear balancing test has also been frequently applied to trademark licensing contracts. As the district court here correctly noted, courts in this context have generally precluded licensees from challenging the validity of a mark they have obtained the right to use. However, courts have done so only after considering the public interest in trademarks. For example, in Beer Nuts, Inc. v. King Nut Co., the Sixth Circuit explicitly used the Lear balancing test in upholding a written agreement not to challenge the validity of a trademark. The court distinguished the public policy of trademarks—guarding the public from being deceived into purchasing an unwanted product—from that of patents and held, “When the balancing test is employed in the instant situation, we conclude that the public interest in [trademarks] … is not so great that it should take precedence over the rule of the law of contracts that a person should be held to his undertakings.”
The IPC maintains that the Lear balancing test is inapplicable because unlike the contract in Lear, which was silent concerning the rights of the licensee to challenge the patent, the contract signed by M&M specifically precluded M&M from challenging the IPC’s marks. However, this distinction does not negate the applicability of the Lear balancing test to the contract in this case. Lear itself recognized that federal policy embodied in the law of intellectual property can trump even explicit contractual provisions. The licensor in Lear argued that based on the licensee’s explicit contractual agreement to pay royalties until invalidity of the patent had been determined by a court, the licensee was required to pay royalties for the duration of the litigation even if the patent in question was eventually declared invalid. The Lear Court disagreed and refused to enforce the contract on the same basis that it refused to apply licensee estoppel: “The parties’ contract, however, is no more controlling on this issue than is the State’s doctrine of estoppel, which is also rooted in contract principles.” Lear makes clear that courts should weigh the federal policy embodied in the law of intellectual property against even explicit contractual provisions and render unenforceable those provisions that would undermine the public interest. Thus, the explicit contractual provision in the licensing agreement between the IPC and M&M is no barrier to application of the Lear balancing test.
We turn now to application of this balancing test to the current dispute. In doing so, we must identify the public interest in certification marks and the public injury that might result from enforcement of the estoppel provision in the contract between M&M and the IPC. The IPC argues, and the district court agreed, that the trademark cases enforcing no-challenge provisions noted above are controlling with regard to certification marks because “certification marks are generally treated the same as trademarks.” Although we recognize that trademarks and certification marks are “generally treated the same,” we conclude that the difference between the public interests in certification marks and trademarks compels a different result in this context.
In the trademark context … “[a] dealer’s good will is protected … in order that the purchasing public may not be enticed into buying A’s product when it wants B’s product.” Thus, agreements that allow the continued use of confusingly similar trademarks injure the public, and the important issue in litigation over trademark contracts is the public confusion that might result from enforcing the contract.
Significantly, trademark owners are granted a monopoly over their marks and can choose to license the marks to others on whatever conditions they deem appropriate, so long as confusion does not result. The same is not true of certification marks. Certification mark licensing programs are “a form of limited compulsory licensing,” 3 McCarthy on Trademarks and Unfair Competition § 19.96, and the certifier has a “duty … to certify the goods or services of any person who meets the standards and conditions which the mark certifies.”
That the owner of a certification mark “cannot refuse to license the mark to anyone on any ground other than the standards it has set,” 3 McCarthy at § 19.96, is an important distinction between the policies embodied in trademarks and certification marks. It is true that certification marks are designed to facilitate consumer expectations of a standardized product, much like trademarks are designed to ensure that a consumer is not confused by the marks on a product. But the certification mark regime protects a further public interest in free and open competition among producers and distributors of the certified product. It protects the market players from the influence of the certification mark owner, and aims to ensure the broadest competition, and therefore the best price and quality, within the market for certified products. From our review of the cases, it appears to us that this interest is akin to the public interest in the “full and free use of ideas in the public domain” embodied in the patent laws. Lear, 395 U.S. at 674.
We believe that the estoppel provision in the contract between M&M and the IPC injures this public interest in a number of ways. First, the provision places a non-quality-control related restriction on the sellers of the certified product and other licensees that benefits the mark owner in contravention of the mark owner’s obligation not to interfere with a free market for products meeting the certification criteria. Second, as in Lear, parties that have entered into a licensee relationship with the IPC may often be the only individuals with enough economic incentive to challenge the IPC’s licensing scheme, and thus the only individuals with enough incentive to force the IPC to conform to the law.
Finally, to decide the issue of public injury we must look to the public interest implicated by the merits of the licensee’s challenges. M&M alleges, among other things, that: (1) the IPC is a corporate entity dominated by producers of the certified products and that such domination violates the provisions in 15 U.S.C. § 1064(5)(B); (2) the IPC uses the goodwill derived from the certification marks as a trademark in violation of § 1064(5)(C); (3) the IPC imposes certification standards other than those that the certification mark is registered to certify in violation of § 1064(5)(D); and (4) the IPC discriminately refuses to certify potatoes that meet the standards for certification, also in violation of § 1064(5)(D). All of these challenges implicate the public interest in maintaining a free market for the certified product unaffected by the possible competing economic interests of the certification mark owner.
We believe these public interests are more substantial and more likely to be harmed if M&M is not allowed to press its claims than the public interests and de minimis harm alleged in the trademark-related cases that upheld contractual no-challenge provisions. See, e.g., Beer Nuts, 477 F.2d at 329 (holding that public interest in guarding against depletion of general vocabulary insufficient to override contract law). Also, this case lacks a strong countervailing public interest other than the general interest in enforcing written contracts (like the interest in settlements) that persuaded courts to enforce contractual no-challenge provisions in other agreements. See, e.g., Flex-Foot, 238 F.3d at 1368. We therefore conclude that the district court erred in finding M&M contractually estopped as a matter of law from challenging the IPC marks.
[W]e therefore vacate the district court’s August 1998 Order holding M&M estopped as a matter of law from bringing its counterclaims for cancellation of the IPC marks and remand for consideration of those claims on the merits.
Notes and Questions
1. Lear beyond patents. Why does Judge Posner conclude that the reasoning of Lear should not be extended to copyrights? Are the policies expressed in Lear limited solely to patents? Do you agree with limiting Lear in this manner? In Idaho Potato, Judge Feinberg does not seem to display the same reluctance to apply Lear in the context of trademarks. What might account for this difference in approaches?
2. Economic power. Do you agree with Judge Posner’s statement in Saturday Evening Post that the “economic power” conferred by copyrights is “much smaller” than that conferred by patents? Surely some copyrights are more valuable than others, just as some patents are more valuable than others and, by extension, some copyrights are more valuable than some patents. Is Judge Posner’s reasoning, then, based on a law of averages?
3. The rarity of copyright invalidity. In Saturday Evening Post, “the Post had copyrighted each of the magazines in which the [Norman Rockwell] illustrations appeared but had not copyrighted the illustrations separately.” This omission caused Rumbleseat to question the validity of the Post’s copyright in the illustrations. Such an omission, however, is relatively rare, and today, with the elimination of the copyright registration requirement, a nonissue. Is this why Judge Posner observed that “we can find no … other reported case that deals with a no-contest clause in a copyright license”? Compare this situation with that of patents, every one of which can be (and usually is) subject to a validity challenge when asserted. Does the relative infrequency of copyright validity challenges make the decision in Saturday Evening Post easier? Note that Judge Posner is careful to distinguish between the validity of the Post’s copyrights in the Rockwell illustrations and “the copyrightability of the Rockwell dolls.” Why bother to make this distinction? Would the result change if the no-challenge clause related to the copyrightability of a porcelain doll, or possibly a software program?
4. The Lear balancing test. In Idaho Potato, Judge Feinberg views Lear as requiring a court to “balance” the “strong federal policy favoring the full and free use of ideas in the public domain” against whatever policy factors favor the enforcement of a particular no-challenge clause. He refers numerous times to the Lear “balancing test.” Yet neither the Supreme Court in Lear nor the Federal Circuit in its major opinions applying Lear refer to such a “balancing test.” Is Judge Feinberg’s characterization of Lear accurate? If so, why do so few courts assessing no-challenge clauses in patent cases use this terminology?
5. Public policy and certification marks. Judge Feinberg identifies separate public policies concerning a party’s ability to challenge the validity of trademarks and certification marks. What are these different public policy interests and why are they so different?
In reviewing earlier trademark cases such as Beer Nuts, he seems to acknowledge that “the public interest in [trademarks] … is not so great that it should take precedence over the rule of the law of contracts that a person should be held to his undertakings.” Yet in striking down the Idaho Potato Commission’s no-challenge clause, he favorably compares the strong public policy interests favoring challenges to potentially invalid certification marks, as well as other behaviors of certification mark owners. But unlike the enforceability of settlement agreements, which, under Flex-Foot, is supported by a strong public interest, the interest of certification mark owners in no-challenge clauses is a mere “general interest in enforcing written contracts.” As a result, the factors supporting challenges to certification marks outweigh those supporting no-challenge clauses, and the Commission’s no-challenge clause was rejected. Do you agree with the results of Judge Feinberg’s various balancing exercises? Why isn’t the goal of trademarks – avoiding consumer confusion – as or more important than the goal of certification marks?
Review the below summary of the state of the law regarding no-challenge clauses in licensing agreements for different types of IP. Do these rules make sense to you? What, if anything, would you change?
Patents – generally barred (Lear), but permitted in settlement agreements (Flex-Foot)
Copyrights – generally permitted (Saturday Evening Post)
Trademarks – generally permitted (Beer Nuts)
Certification Marks – generally barred (Idaho Potato)
22.4.3 Other Penalties for Validity Challenges
As discussed in the preceding sections, no-challenge clauses are not likely to be enforced in nonsettlement patent licensing agreements. As a result, licensors have developed a set of alternative contractual provisions that seek to discourage licensees from challenging the validity of licensed IP, and to penalize those that do.
Alfred C. Server & Peter Singleton, 3 Hastings Sci. & Tech. L.J. 243, 417–38 (2010)
Considering the various problems and uncertainties associated with the “no-challenge” clause, it is reasonable to conclude that its use in a typical license agreement should be avoided. As we will see in the sections that follow, other pro-licensor contract provisions can be used, whether alone or in combination, that have a far greater likelihood of being enforceable and are associated with significantly less risk of giving rise to unintended consequences.
“Termination-for-Challenge” Clause
A “termination-for-challenge” clause, also referred to as a “no-challenge termination” clause, confers upon a patent licensor the right to terminate the license agreement in the event that the licensee challenges the validity of the licensed patent. If enforceable, the provision provides a contractual means of counteracting the effect of the Supreme Court’s MedImmune decision, which relieved a licensee of the jurisdictional requirement of having to repudiate its patent license agreement before challenging the licensed patent. By permitting a licensor to terminate the license agreement upon the licensee’s patent challenge, the “termination-for-challenge” clause places the licensee in the same position it would have been in prior to the MedImmune Court’s rejection of the Federal Circuit’s Gen-Probe holding, i.e., in order to bring a patent challenge, a licensee is required to risk losing the benefits of its patent license. Not surprisingly, the “termination-for-challenge” clause is encountered with increasing frequency in the aftermath of [MedImmune]. However, the question of whether the clause is enforceable is not a simple one.
Unlike the “no-challenge” clause, a “termination-for-challenge” clause does not eliminate one of the protections of the Lear doctrine. In the words of one commentator, “[t]his type of contractual provision does not bar a licensee from challenging the patent’s validity. It merely gives the licensor the right to terminate the license in such a case, enabling the licensor to sue the licensee for infringement.”Footnote 10 The “termination-for-challenge” clause differs from the “no-challenge” clause in another important respect. While the latter has been the subject of judicial review on a number of occasions (as discussed in the preceding section), the “termination-for-challenge” clause has only rarely been evaluated by a court.
One such evaluation was provided … in Bayer AG v. Housey Pharmaceuticals, Inc., 228 F. Supp. 2d 467 (D. Del. 2002). Bayer, the plaintiff in the case, sought a declaratory judgment that the Housey patents were unenforceable as a result of Housey’s misuse of the patents.Footnote 11 Among the alleged acts of misuse was the inclusion in patent license agreements with third parties of the following provision:
[LICENSOR] acknowledges the LICENSEE is not estopped from contesting the validity or enforceability of the Licensed Patent Rights. However, LICENSEE acknowledges that such an attack on validity or enforceability of the Licensed Patent Rights is inconsistent with the purposes of this License Agreement. Accordingly, LICENSEE hereby agrees that if it decides to assert its right to contest the Licensed Patent Rights, in whole or in part, that … [LICENSOR] shall have the right, at … [LICENSOR’s] option, to terminate this License Agreement by giving written notice thereof to LICENSEE. Further, unless terminated by … [LICENSOR], LICENSEE agrees to make all payments due under this License Agreement notwithstanding any challenge … by LICENSEE … to the Licensed Patent Rights, so long as the applicable patent(s) or patent application(s) remain in effect.
Bayer contended that the provision was an attempt “to muzzle licensees in violation of Lear” and its presence in the Housey license agreements constituted patent misuse. The district court in Bayer began its analysis by restating the dual protections afforded a patent licensee under the Lear doctrine, namely, that a licensee cannot be barred from challenging the validity of a licensed patent nor required to pay royalties to the licensor during the pendency of its patent challenge. Concluding that neither of these protections can be eliminated by the agreement of contracting parties, the court held that the portion of the Housey provision under consideration that obligated the licensee to continue to pay royalties while challenging the licensed patent was unenforceable. The court went on to note, however, that the inclusion of this unenforceable portion of the provision in the Housey license agreements did not constitute patent misuse. What is significant for the purpose of this section is that the Bayer court found no fault with the “termination-for-challenge” portion of the Housey provision. The fact that the district court selectively rejected the royalty payment portion of the provision suggests that the basis for the rejection was that that portion of the provision, in contrast to the “termination-for-challenge” portion, directly eliminated one of the protections of the Lear doctrine.
The Bayer decision, however, is only a tacit endorsement of the “termination-for-challenge” clause, and questions as to the provision’s enforceability remain to be answered …
In the end, a decision by a patent licensor to use a “termination-for-challenge” clause in its license agreement involves a degree of uncertainty that is not likely to be lessened in the near future, but such a decision is probably justified on the basis of the available information. Unlike in the case of a typical “no-challenge” clause, which eliminates one of the protections of the Lear doctrine and is almost certainly unenforceable, there is credible support for the enforceability of a “termination-for-challenge” clause.
Royalty Payment Provisions
Another type of pro-licensor contract provision that is receiving increasing attention is one that links a licensee’s patent validity challenge with its obligation to pay royalties under the license agreement. This type of provision can vary on the basis of the event that triggers a consequence (e.g., the patent challenge itself as opposed to the failure of the challenge) and the nature of the consequence (e.g., a continuing obligation to pay the agreed-to royalties as opposed to an increase in the royalty amount to be paid by the licensee). At least one variation of this type of provision has been ruled unenforceable in that it eliminated one of the protections of the Lear doctrine. Other variations, however, are likely to be enforceable, especially one that requires an increase in the royalty payment obligation of a licensee whose patent challenge fails, reflecting the added value of a patent that has been adjudicated as valid.
The relationship between a patent licensee’s right to challenge the validity of the licensed patent and its obligation to pay royalties was originally explored in Lear. Recall that the Supreme Court in Lear ruled that an express contractual obligation of a licensee to pay royalties “until such time as the ‘patent *** is held invalid,’” effectively requiring the licensee to pay during the pendency of any patent challenge, is unenforceable (the second prong of the Lear doctrine). According to the Lear Court, such an obligation would encourage a licensor to postpone a final determination regarding the licensed patent’s validity and could deter the licensee from bringing the patent challenge in the first place, thereby frustrating the public’s interest in eliminating worthless patents. Considering the holding in Lear, it is not surprising that a district court in Bayer rejected a royalty payment provision that stated that
LICENSEE agrees to make all payments due under this License Agreement notwithstanding any challenge … by LICENSEE … to the Licensed Patent Rights, so long as the applicable patent(s) or patent application(s) remain in effect.
As was already discussed in the preceding section, the Bayer court concluded that the provision was unenforceable in that it impermissibly eliminated one of the protections of the Lear doctrine, but its inclusion in the license agreement was not patent misuse.
The Bayer court did not consider the question of whether a licensee that exercises its Lear-protected right to withhold agreed-to royalties during the pendency of its patent challenge and, thereby, breaches an unenforceable royalty payment provision such as the one under consideration in the case could have its license agreement terminated by the licensor on the basis of the breach. [P]ost-Lear district court decisions … support the view that the nonpayment of agreed-to royalties associated with a patent challenge is an insufficient basis for the termination of a license agreement, in light of the public’s interest in the early adjudication of patent invalidity. In contrast, the Federal Circuit’s “challenge-but-face-the-consequence” [e.g., Gen-Probe – Ed.] decisions take the position that a breach by a licensee of a contractual provision in the course of bringing a patent challenge can subject the licensee to an unwanted consequence, including the loss of rights under the license agreement, despite the public policy articulated in Lear.
While a royalty payment provision that eliminates one of the protections of the Lear doctrine (such as the one rejected in Bayer) is almost certainly unenforceable, assessing the enforceability of other pro-licensor royalty payment provisions presents a greater challenge. For example, one of the provisions that has been suggested in response to [MedImmune] would require a licensee that brings a patent validity challenge to pay increased royalties. The U.S. Government, in its MedImmune Brief, noted that such a provision could “anticipate and ameliorate the effects of the filing of a declaratory judgment action by a licensee [challenging the validity of the licensed patent].” However, as stated in the Government’s Brief, the enforceability of such a provision “is an open question in light of the strong public policy favoring patent challenges as reflected in Pope and Lear.” A provision that burdens a patent licensee with an unwanted consequence for the mere act of challenging the validity of the licensed patent could be viewed as too much of a disincentive to challenge to be compatible with the “spirit of Lear.”
One way to lessen the impact of a pro-licensor contract provision that calls for an increase in a licensee’s royalty payment obligation following a patent challenge is to have the increase triggered only by an unsuccessful challenge by the licensee, i.e., one in which the challenged patent is ultimately adjudicated as valid. There is a reasonable basis for such a royalty increase that is not punitive in nature, namely, that a patent that has been adjudicated as valid is of greater value than one that is merely presumed to be valid as a result of its issuance.
A number of other royalty payment provisions have been proposed to account for the increased likelihood of a licensee patent validity challenge following [MedImmune], although to the authors’ knowledge none has undergone judicial review where compatibility with Lear was at issue. Some of these provisions are intended to maximize a licensor’s return on a licensed patent prior to any patent challenge by the licensee (e.g., requiring the licensee to pay a higher royalty from the outset than would otherwise have been sought in the absence of the increased threat of a challenge). Other provisions are designed to guarantee the continuation of a licensee’s royalty payment despite a patent challenge (e.g., making the royalty payment obligation independent of the validity of the licensed patent). Putting aside the question of whether a licensee would agree to any of these royalty payment provisions, each such provision must be assessed for its enforceability and effect … What can be said with respect to all of these provisions is the following: (1) the more punitive the provision, burdening a licensee for merely exercising its Lear-protected right to challenge the validity of the licensed patent, the greater the risk of unenforceability, and (2) the possibility that the inclusion of the provision in a patent license agreement constitutes patent misuse must be given careful consideration.
Other Pro-Licensor Contract Provisions
In the aftermath of [MedImmune], patent licensors have been particularly active in crafting pro-licensor contract provisions to account for an increased likelihood of a licensee patent validity challenge.
A contract provision that is increasingly popular among patent licensors requires that a licensee that intends to challenge the validity of the licensed patent provide advanced notice to the licensor and disclose the basis for the challenge. The following is an example of such a provision:
In the event LICENSEE intends to assert in any forum that any LICENSED PATENT is invalid …, LICENSEE will, not less than ninety (90) days prior to making any such assertion, provide to LICENSOR a complete written disclosure of each and every basis then known to LICENSEE for such assertion and, with such disclosure, will provide LICENSOR with a copy of any document or publication upon which LICENSEE intends to rely in support of such assertion. LICENSEE’s failure to comply with this provision will constitute a material breach of this Agreement.Footnote 12
A provision of this type will allow for a dialogue between licensor and licensee that may avert a patent challenge and will, if necessary, aid the licensor in its preparation of a defense of its patent.
Other pro-licensor contract provisions are intended to limit the information available to a licensee in its challenge of the licensed patent. For example, a patent license agreement may contain a provision that expressly prohibits the licensee from using any confidential information of the licensor, provided to the licensee under the agreement, in challenging the licensed patent. An even more restrictive provision has been suggested that “requir[es] … that the licensee disclose the prior art it knows about before entering the license, and provid[es] … that the licensee will have the right to challenge validity in defense to an action for royalties, or as [a] declaratory judgment claim based only on other and closer prior art that the licensee learns of after entering the license.”Footnote 13
One of the more frequently encountered pro-licensor provisions obligates a licensee that challenges the validity of the licensed patent to pay the patent holder’s litigation costs, including attorney’s fees, that result from the challenge. Such a provision varies on the basis of whether the licensee’s payment obligation attaches irrespective of the success of its challenge or only in the event that the patent challenge fails.
The list of pro-licensor contract provisions, to be used alone or in combination, will grow as creative transactional attorneys continue to grapple with the increased likelihood of a licensee patent validity challenge following MedImmune. In the absence of case law confirming the enforceability of such a provision, its inclusion in a patent license agreement will entail a degree of uncertainty … In the end, however, a number of pro-licensor contract provisions will fall within a gray zone where a finding of patent misuse is unlikely, but the question of enforceability will remain open until resolved by a court. The licensor inclined to incorporate such a provision will need to be advised as to the risk of unenforceability, which risk increases to the extent that the provision appears to penalize a licensee for a patent validity challenge in a manner and to a degree that is likely to prevent the challenge in the first place, thereby frustrating the important public interest, articulated in Lear, in eliminating worthless patents.
Termination-on-challenge
Loss of exclusivity
Payment of royalties required during challenge
Royalty increases upon challenge
Royalty increases upon unsuccessful challenge
Licensee advance notice of challenges
No use of licensor’s confidential information in making any challenge
Licensee disclosure of known prior art and limitation of challenges to that art
Licensee bears licensor’s legal costs, win or lose
Mandatory arbitration of validity disputes
Notes and Questions
1. Untested clauses. Server and Singleton describe a range of contractual provisions that have been used in lieu of no-challenge clauses to deter licensees from challenging the validity of licensed patents. None of these provisions have been tested in the courts. As such, how would you advise a licensor client that wished to include such clauses in a licensing agreement? How would you describe the risks and benefits of such clauses?
2. Value of adjudicated patents. Server and Singleton reason that “a patent that has been adjudicated as valid is of greater value than one that is merely presumed to be valid as a result of its issuance.” Why would this be the case? What impact does such an observation have on the enforceability of clauses triggered by patent validity challenges?
Problem 22.1
Your client, Monop O. Liszt, is a famed pianist who has developed a suite of ingenious music synthesis software applications. He has applied for patents on these inventions and has registered the copyrights in the software source code. Liszt now wishes to license his software on a nonexclusive basis to computer, electronic keyboard, film production and music distribution companies around the world. Because he is an individual without a large litigation budget, however, he would like to limit the ability of his licensees to challenge his IP rights. Prepare a draft set of provisions that you would recommend inserting into his standard form of software licensing agreement to achieve this goal, explaining the relative risks and benefits of each provision.
Summary Contents
When you buy a physical book from your local bookshop or online retailer, you exchange a sum of money for legal title to the physical copy of that book (we’ll cover electronic books shortly). Of course, buying a book does not give you any ownership interest in the author’s copyright. Thus, by spending $30 to acquire a physical book, you do not gain the right to make additional copies of that book, to adapt it for television or to translate it into another language. You simply own the physical copy that you bought. By the same token, once you purchase the book from a retailer, neither the author nor the publisher has any further right to limit or charge you for the right to read the book, to lend it to your sister or to sell it on eBay. The publisher has authorized the retailer to sell you the book, and once they have granted that right they have no ability to further control its destiny.
This result, which should correspond with your intuitive understanding of how markets in copyrighted goods work, arises from what is known as the “first sale” doctrine. A similar doctrine known as “exhaustion” applies with respect to goods marked with trademarks and to patented articles. Despite their intuitive and straightforward origins, the modern application of the first sale and exhaustion doctrines to multi-component technologies distributed through multi-tier, international supply chains is fraught with complications that have made these doctrines among the most complex in the intellectual property (IP) transactional landscape. In this chapter we will review the basic doctrines of first sale and exhaustion, and then explore how they have evolved in the modern marketplace.
23.1 Copyright First Sale
Today, the copyright first sale doctrine is embodied in Section 109(a) of the Copyright Act. It provides that “the owner of a particular copy … lawfully made under this title, or any person authorized by such owner, is entitled, without the authority of the copyright owner, to sell or otherwise dispose of the possession of that copy.” That is, someone who owns a valid copy of a copyrighted work may further sell, transfer, donate or otherwise dispose of that copy without permission of the copyright owner, notwithstanding the copyright owner’s exclusive right to distribute copies of the work under Section 106(3) of the Act.
Prior to the enactment of the 1976 version of the Act, the extent of the first sale doctrine was not so clear. The following case is one of the first to wrestle with the extent and scope of the first sale doctrine.
210 U.S. 339 (1908)
DAY, JUSTICE
The complainant in the circuit court, appellant here, the Bobbs-Merrill Company, brought suit against the respondents, appellees here, Isidor Straus and Nathan Straus, partners as R. H. Macy & Company, in the Circuit Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York to restrain the sale of a copyrighted novel, entitled “The Castaway,” at retail at less than $1 for each copy. The circuit court dismissed the bill on final hearing. The decree of the circuit court was affirmed on appeal by the circuit court of appeals.
The appellant is the owner of the copyright upon “The Castaway,” obtained on the eighteenth day of May, 1904, in conformity to the copyright statutes of the United States. Printed immediately below the copyright notice, on the page in the book following the title page, is inserted the following notice:
The price of this book at retail is one dollar net. No dealer is licensed to sell it at a less price, and a sale at a less price will be treated as an infringement of the copyright.
Macy & Company, before the commencement of the action, purchased copies of the book for the purpose of selling the same at retail. Ninety percent of such copies were purchased by them at wholesale at a price below the retail price by about forty percent, and ten percent of the books purchased by them were purchased at retail, and the full price paid therefor.
It is stipulated in the record:
Defendants at the time of their purchase of copies of the book, knew that it was a copyrighted book, and were familiar with the terms of the notice printed in each copy thereof, as above set forth, and knew that this notice was printed in every copy of the book purchased by them.
The wholesale dealers from whom defendants purchased copies of the book obtained the same either directly from the complainant or from other wholesale dealers at a discount from the net retail price, and at the time of their purchase knew that the book was a copyrighted book, and were familiar with the terms of the notice printed in each copy thereof, as described above, and such knowledge was in all wholesale dealers through whom the books passed from the complainants to defendants. But the wholesale dealers were under no agreement or obligation to enforce the observance of the terms of the notice by retail dealers, or to restrict their sales to retail dealers who would agree to observe the terms stated in the notice.
The defendants have sold copies of the book at retail at the uniform price of eighty-nine cents a copy, and are still selling, exposing for sale, and offering copies of the book at retail at the price of eighty-nine cents per copy, without the consent of the complainant.
The present case involves rights under the copyright act. The facts disclose a sale of a book at wholesale by the owners of the copyright at a satisfactory price, and this without agreement between the parties to such sale obligating the purchaser to control future sales, and where the alleged right springs from the protection of the copyright law alone. It is contended that this power to control further sales is given by statute to the owner of such a copyright in conferring the sole right to “vend” a copyrighted book.
Recent cases in this Court have affirmed the proposition that copyright property under the federal law is wholly statutory, and depends upon the right created under the acts of Congress passed in pursuance of the authority conferred under Article I, § 8, of the federal Constitution:
To promote the progress of science and useful arts, by securing, for limited times, to authors and inventors, the exclusive right to their respective writings and discoveries.
The learned counsel for the appellant in this case, in the argument at bar, disclaims relief because of any contract, and relies solely upon the copyright statutes, and rights therein conferred. The copyright statutes ought to be reasonably construed with a view to effecting the purposes intended by Congress. They ought not to be unduly extended by judicial construction to include privileges not intended to be conferred, nor so narrowly construed as to deprive those entitled to their benefit of the rights Congress intended to grant.
At common law, an author had a property in his manuscript, and might have redress against anyone who undertook to realize a profit from its publication without authority of the author.
While the nature of the property and the protection intended to be given the inventor or author as the reward of genius or intellect in the production of his book or work of art is to be considered in construing the act of Congress, it is evident that to secure the author the right to multiply copies of his work may be said to have been the main purpose of the copyright statutes.
This fact is emphasized when we note the title to the act of Congress, passed at its first session: “An Act for the Encouragement of Learning, by Securing the Copies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the Authors and Proprietors of Such Copies, during the Times Therein Mentioned.” 1 Stat. at Large, by Peters, c. 15, p. 124.
In order to secure this right, it was provided in that statute, as it has been in subsequent ones, that the authors of books, their executors, administrators, or assigns, shall have the “sole right and liberty of printing, reprinting, publishing, and vending” such book for a term of years, upon complying with the statutory conditions set forth in the act as essential to the acquiring of a valid copyright. Each and all of these statutory rights should be given such protection as the act of Congress requires, in order to secure the rights conferred upon authors and others entitled to the benefit of the act. Let us see more specifically what are the statutory rights, in this behalf, secured to one who has complied with the provisions of the law and become the owner of a copyright. They may be found in §§ 4952 … of the Revised Statutes of the United States, and are as follows:
Any citizen of the United States or resident therein, who shall be the author, inventor, designer, or proprietor of any book, map, chart, dramatic or musical composition, engraving, cut, print, or photograph or negative thereof, or of a painting, drawing, chromo, statute, statuary, and of models or designs intended to be perfected as works of the fine arts, and the executors, administrators, or assigns of any such person, shall, upon complying with the provisions of this chapter, have the sole liberty of printing, reprinting, publishing, completing, copying, executing, finishing, and vending the same.
It is the contention of the appellant that the circuit court erred in failing to give effect to the provision of § 4952, protecting the owners of the copyright in the sole right of vending the copyrighted book or other article, and the argument is that the statute vested the whole field of the right of exclusive sale in the copyright owner; that he can part with it to another to the extent that he sees fit, and may withhold to himself, by proper reservations, so much of the right as he pleases.
What does the statute mean in granting “the sole right of vending the same?” Was it intended to create a right which would permit the holder of the copyright to fasten, by notice in a book or upon one of the articles mentioned within the statute, a restriction upon the subsequent alienation of the subject matter of copyright after the owner had parted with the title to one who had acquired full dominion over it and had given a satisfactory price for it? It is not denied that one who has sold a copyrighted article, without restriction, has parted with all right to control the sale of it. The purchaser of a book, once sold by authority of the owner of the copyright, may sell it again, although he could not publish a new edition of it.
In this case, the stipulated facts show that the books sold by the appellant were sold at wholesale, and purchased by those who made no agreement as to the control of future sales of the book, and took upon themselves no obligation to enforce the notice printed in the book, undertaking to restrict retail sales to a price of one dollar per copy.
The precise question therefore in this case is, does the sole right to vend (named in § 4952) secure to the owner of the copyright the right, after a sale of the book to a purchaser, to restrict future sales of the book at retail, to the right to sell it at a certain price per copy, because of a notice in the book that a sale at a different price will be treated as an infringement, which notice has been brought home to one undertaking to sell for less than the named sum? We do not think the statute can be given such a construction, and it is to be remembered that this is purely a question of statutory construction. There is no claim in this case of contract limitation, nor license agreement controlling the subsequent sales of the book.
In our view, the copyright statutes, while protecting the owner of the copyright in his right to multiply and sell his production, do not create the right to impose, by notice, such as is disclosed in this case, a limitation at which the book shall be sold at retail by future purchasers, with whom there is no privity of contract. This conclusion is reached in view of the language of the statute, read in the light of its main purpose to secure the right of multiplying copies of the work – a right which is the special creation of the statute. True, the statute also secures, to make this right of multiplication effectual, the sole right to vend copies of the book, the production of the author’s thought and conception. The owner of the copyright in this case did sell copies of the book in quantities and at a price satisfactory to it. It has exercised the right to vend. What the complainant contends for embraces not only the right to sell the copies, but to qualify the title of a future purchaser by the reservation of the right to have the remedies of the statute against an infringer because of the printed notice of its purpose so to do unless the purchaser sells at a price fixed in the notice. To add to the right of exclusive sale the authority to control all future retail sales by a notice that such sales must be made at a fixed sum would give a right not included in the terms of the statute, and, in our view, extend its operation, by construction, beyond its meaning, when interpreted with a view to ascertaining the legislative intent in its enactment.
The decree of the circuit court of appeals is Affirmed.
Notes and Questions
1. Resale price maintenance. In Bobbs-Merrill, the court analyzes, as a matter of statutory interpretation, whether the copyright owner’s exclusive right to “vend” includes a right to dictate the prices at which future owners may resell a book. The practice of setting minimum resale prices is referred to as “resale price maintenance,” and it warrants special scrutiny under the antitrust laws (see Section 25.4). Antitrust issues aside, why do you think that Bobbs-Merrill wished to set a minimum resale price for books that it had already sold to retailers? How would Bobbs-Merrill profit from Macy’s sale of the book at $1.00 rather than $0.89?
2. Contract. Bobbs-Merrill incorporated its price maintenance clause in the book itself. From a contract law standpoint, how binding to you think this restriction was on retailers like Macy’s?
3. The right to vend. The Court in Bobbs-Merrill held that a copyright owner’s statutory exclusive right to vend a book did not extend to the control of the terms of downstream sales of the book. Why not? What language in the Copyright Act persuaded the Court that this was the correct outcome?
4. Limits of first sale. As set forth in Section 109(a) of the Copyright Act today, the owner of a particular copy of a work has the right to “sell or otherwise dispose of the possession of that copy.” In other words, the first sale exhausts the copyright owner’s exclusive right to transfer a copy of a work, which was granted under Section 106(3) of the Copyright Act. But the first sale doctrine does not exhaust the other exclusive rights granted to a copyright holder under Section 106, namely, the right to reproduce the work (§ 106(1)), the right to make derivative works (§ 106(2)) and the right to publicly perform the work (§§ 106(4)–(6)). Why is the first sale doctrine limited to transfers of copies of copyrighted works?
23.2 Software Sale Versus License
The Bobbs-Merrill case established the first sale principle in copyright law, a principle that was later codified in Section 109(a) of the Copyright Act. But the first sale doctrine depends on there being an authorized sale of a copyrighted work. What if a work is licensed rather than sold? Does the first sale doctrine apply?
These questions are extremely important in the case of computer software. Even though software vendors convey copies of their software to users, either on tangible media (discs or memory devices) or electronically, the common practice in the software industry is to refer to software as licensed rather than sold. So, what rights does a consumer obtain when she downloads an app to her smartphone? Does she “own” a copy of the software, which she can then resell or exploit as she would a book, or is she merely a licensee who does not own the copy in her possession? Numerous cases considered this issue from the 1990s through the 2000s, most questioning the software vendor’s ability to impose restrictions on further transfer of the software on the user. The following case, decided in the circuit that is home to the majority of the US software industry, effectively put the issue to rest.
621 F.3d 1102 (9th Cir. 2010)
CALLAHAN, CIRCUIT JUDGE
Timothy Vernor purchased several used copies of Autodesk, Inc.’s AutoCAD Release 14 software (“Release 14”) from one of Autodesk’s direct customers, and he resold the Release 14 copies on eBay. Vernor brought this declaratory judgment action against Autodesk to establish that these resales did not infringe Autodesk’s copyright. The district court issued the requested declaratory judgment, holding that Vernor’s sales were lawful because of two of the Copyright Act’s affirmative defenses that apply to owners of copies of copyrighted works, the first sale doctrine and the essential step defense.
Autodesk distributes Release 14 pursuant to a limited license agreement in which it reserves title to the software copies and imposes significant use and transfer restrictions on its customers. We determine that Autodesk’s direct customers are licensees of their copies of the software rather than owners, which has two ramifications. Because Vernor did not purchase the Release 14 copies from an owner, he may not invoke the first sale doctrine, and he also may not assert an essential step defense on behalf of his customers. For these reasons, we vacate the district court’s grant of summary judgment to Vernor and remand for further proceedings.
Autodesk’s Release 14 Software and Licensing Practices
The material facts are not in dispute. Autodesk makes computer-aided design software used by architects, engineers, and manufacturers. It has more than nine million customers. It first released its AutoCAD software in 1982. It holds registered copyrights in all versions of the software including the discontinued Release 14 version, which is at issue in this case. It provided Release 14 to customers on CD-ROMs.
Since at least 1986, Autodesk has offered AutoCAD to customers pursuant to an accompanying software license agreement (“SLA”), which customers must accept before installing the software. A customer who does not accept the SLA can return the software for a full refund. Autodesk offers SLAs with different terms for commercial, educational institution, and student users. The commercial license, which is the most expensive, imposes the fewest restrictions on users and allows them software upgrades at discounted prices.
The SLA for Release 14 first recites that Autodesk retains title to all copies. Second, it states that the customer has a nonexclusive and nontransferable license to use Release 14. Third, it imposes transfer restrictions, prohibiting customers from renting, leasing, or transferring the software without Autodesk’s prior consent and from electronically or physically transferring the software out of the Western Hemisphere. Fourth, it imposes significant use restrictions:
YOU MAY NOT: (1) modify, translate, reverse engineer, decompile, or disassemble the Software … (3) remove any proprietary notices, labels, or marks from the Software or Documentation; (4) use … the Software outside of the Western Hemisphere; (5) utilize any computer software or hardware designed to defeat any hardware copy-protection device, should the software you have licensed be equipped with such protection; or (6) use the Software for commercial or other revenue-generating purposes if the Software has been licensed or labeled for educational use only.
Fifth, the SLA provides for license termination if the user copies the software without authorization or does not comply with the SLA’s restrictions. Finally, the SLA provides that if the software is an upgrade of a previous version:
[Y]ou must destroy the software previously licensed to you, including any copies resident on your hard disk drive … within sixty (60) days of the purchase of the license to use the upgrade or update …. Autodesk reserves the right to require you to show satisfactory proof that previous copies of the software have been destroyed.
Autodesk takes measures to enforce these license requirements. It assigns a serial number to each copy of AutoCAD and tracks registered licensees. It requires customers to input “activation codes” within one month after installation to continue using the software. The customer obtains the code by providing the product’s serial number to Autodesk. Autodesk issues the activation code after confirming that the serial number is authentic, the copy is not registered to a different customer, and the product has not been upgraded. Once a customer has an activation code, he or she may use it to activate the software on additional computers without notifying Autodesk.
Autodesk’s Provision of Release 14 Software to CTA
In March 1999, Autodesk reached a settlement agreement with its customer Cardwell/Thomas & Associates, Inc. (“CTA”), which Autodesk had accused of unauthorized use of its software. As part of the settlement, Autodesk licensed ten copies of Release 14 to CTA. CTA agreed to the SLA, which appeared (1) on each Release 14 package that Autodesk provided to CTA; (2) in the settlement agreement; and (3) on- screen, while the software is being installed.
CTA later upgraded to the newer, fifteenth version of the AutoCAD program, AutoCAD 2000. It paid $495 per upgrade license, compared to $3,750 for each new license. The SLA for AutoCAD 2000, like the SLA for Release 14, required destruction of copies of previous versions of the software, with proof to be furnished to Autodesk on request. However, rather than destroying its Release 14 copies, CTA sold them to Vernor at an office sale with the handwritten activation codes necessary to use the software.
Vernor’s eBay Business and Sales of Release 14
Vernor has sold more than 10,000 items on eBay. In May 2005, he purchased an authentic used copy of Release 14 at a garage sale from an unspecified seller. He never agreed to the SLA’s terms, opened a sealed software packet, or installed the Release 14 software. Though he was aware of the SLA’s existence, he believed that he was not bound by its terms. He posted the software copy for sale on eBay.
Autodesk filed a Digital Millennium Copyright Act (“DMCA”) take-down notice with eBay claiming that Vernor’s sale infringed its copyright, and eBay terminated Vernor’s auction.Footnote 1 Autodesk advised Vernor that it conveyed its software copies pursuant to non-transferable licenses, and resale of its software was copyright infringement. Vernor filed a DMCA counter-notice with eBay contesting the validity of Autodesk’s copyright claim. Autodesk did not respond to the counter-notice. eBay reinstated the auction, and Vernor sold the software to another eBay user.
In April 2007, Vernor purchased four authentic used copies of Release 14 at CTA’s office sale. The authorization codes were handwritten on the outside of the box. He listed the four copies on eBay sequentially, representing, “This software is not currently installed on any computer.” On each of the first three occasions, the same DMCA process ensued. Autodesk filed a DMCA take-down notice with eBay, and eBay removed Vernor’s auction. Vernor submitted a counter-notice to which Autodesk did not respond, and eBay reinstated the auction.
When Vernor listed his fourth, final copy of Release 14, Autodesk again filed a DMCA take-down notice with eBay. This time, eBay suspended Vernor’s account because of Autodesk’s repeated charges of infringement. Vernor also wrote to Autodesk, claiming that he was entitled to sell his Release 14 copies pursuant to the first sale doctrine, because he never installed the software or agreed to the SLA. In response, Autodesk’s counsel directed Vernor to stop selling the software. Vernor filed a final counter-notice with eBay. When Autodesk again did not respond to Vernor’s counter-notice, eBay reinstated Vernor’s account. At that point, Vernor’s eBay account had been suspended for one month, during which he was unable to earn income on eBay.
Vernor currently has two additional copies of Release 14 that he wishes to sell on eBay. Although the record is not clear, it appears that Vernor sold two of the software packages that he purchased from CTA, for roughly $600 each, but did not sell the final two to avoid risking further suspension of his eBay account.
The Copyright Act confers several exclusive rights on copyright owners, including the exclusive rights to reproduce their works and to distribute their works by sale or rental. Id. § 106(1), (3). The exclusive distribution right is limited by the first sale doctrine, an affirmative defense to copyright infringement that allows owners of copies of copyrighted works to resell those copies. The exclusive reproduction right is limited within the software context by the essential step defense, another affirmative defense to copyright infringement that is discussed further infra. Both of these affirmative defenses are unavailable to those who are only licensed to use their copies of copyrighted works.
This case requires us to decide whether Autodesk sold Release 14 copies to its customers or licensed the copies to its customers. If CTA owned its copies of Release 14, then both its sales to Vernor and Vernor’s subsequent sales were non-infringing under the first sale doctrine. However, if Autodesk only licensed CTA to use copies of Release 14, then CTA’s and Vernor’s sales of those copies are not protected by the first sale doctrine and would therefore infringe Autodesk’s exclusive distribution right.
We turn to our precedents governing whether a transferee of a copy of a copyrighted work is an owner or licensee of that copy. We then apply those precedents to CTA’s and Vernor’s possession of Release 14 copies.
United States v. Wise, 550 F.2d 1180 (9th Cir. 1977)
In Wise, a criminal copyright infringement case, we considered whether copyright owners who transferred copies of their motion pictures pursuant to written distribution agreements had executed first sales. The defendant was found guilty of copyright infringement based on his for-profit sales of motion picture prints. The copyright owners distributed their films to third parties pursuant to written agreements that restricted their use and transfer. On appeal, the defendant argued that the government failed to prove the absence of a first sale for each film. If the copyright owners’ initial transfers of the films were first sales, then the defendant’s resales were protected by the first sale doctrine and thus were not copyright infringement.
To determine whether a first sale occurred, we considered multiple factors pertaining to each film distribution agreement. Specifically, we considered whether the agreement (a) was labeled a license, (b) provided that the copyright owner retained title to the prints, (c) required the return or destruction of the prints, (d) forbade duplication of prints, or (e) required the transferee to maintain possession of the prints for the agreement’s duration. Our use of these several considerations, none dispositive, may be seen in our treatment of each film print.
For example, we reversed the defendant’s conviction with respect to Camelot. It was unclear whether the Camelot print sold by the defendant had been subject to a first sale. Copyright owner Warner Brothers distributed Camelot prints pursuant to multiple agreements, and the government did not prove the absence of a first sale with respect to each agreement. We noted that, in one agreement, Warner Brothers had retained title to the prints, required possessor National Broadcasting Company (“NBC”) to return the prints if the parties could select a mutual agreeable price, and if not, required NBC’s certification that the prints were destroyed. We held that these factors created a license rather than a first sale.
We further noted, however, that Warner Brothers had also furnished another Camelot print to actress Vanessa Redgrave. The print was provided to Redgrave at cost, and her use of the print was subject to several restrictions. She had to retain possession of the print and was not allowed to sell, license, reproduce, or publicly exhibit the print. She had no obligation to return the print to Warner Brothers. We concluded, “While the provision for payment for the cost of the film, standing alone, does not establish a sale, when taken with the rest of the language of the agreement, it reveals a transaction strongly resembling a sale with restrictions on the use of the print.” There was no evidence of the print’s whereabouts, and we held that “[i]n the absence of such proof,” the government failed to prove the absence of a first sale with respect to this Redgrave print. Since it was unclear which copy the defendant had obtained and resold, his conviction for sale of Camelot had to be reversed.
Thus, under Wise, where a transferee receives a particular copy of a copyrighted work pursuant to a written agreement, we consider all of the provisions of the agreement to determine whether the transferee became an owner of the copy or received a license. We may consider (1) whether the agreement was labeled a license and (2) whether the copyright owner retained title to the copy, required its return or destruction, forbade its duplication, or required the transferee to maintain possession of the copy for the agreement’s duration. We did not find any one factor dispositive in Wise: we did not hold that the copyright owner’s retention of title itself established the absence of a first sale or that a transferee’s right to indefinite possession itself established a first sale.
The “MAI Trio” of Cases
Over fifteen years after Wise, we again considered the distinction between owners and licensees of copies of copyrighted works in three software copyright cases, the “MAI trio”. See MAI Sys. Corp. v. Peak Computer, Inc., 991 F.2d 511 (9th Cir. 1993); Triad Sys. Corp. v. Se. Express Co., 64 F.3d 1330 (9th Cir. 1995); Wall Data, Inc. v. Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Dep’t, 447 F.3d 769 (9th Cir. 2006). In the MAI trio, we considered which software purchasers were owners of copies of copyrighted works for purposes of a second affirmative defense to infringement, the essential step defense.
The enforcement of copyright owners’ exclusive right to reproduce their work under the Copyright Act, 17 U.S.C. § 106(1), has posed special challenges in the software context. In order to use a software program, a user’s computer will automatically copy the software into the computer’s random access memory (“RAM”), which is a form of computer data storage. Congress enacted the essential step defense to codify that a software user who is the “owner of a copy” of a copyrighted software program does not infringe by making a copy of the computer program, if the new copy is “created as an essential step in the utilization of the computer program in conjunction with a machine and … is used in no other manner.” 17 U.S.C. § 117(a)(1).
The Copyright Act provides that an “owner of a copy” of copyrighted software may claim the essential step defense, and the “owner of a particular copy” of copyrighted software may claim the first sale doctrine. 17 U.S.C. §§ 109(a), 117(a)(1). The MAI trio construed the phrase “owner of a copy” for essential step defense purposes. Neither Vernor nor Autodesk contends that the first sale doctrine’s inclusion of the word “particular” alters the phrase’s meaning, and we “presume that words used more than once in the same statute have the same meaning throughout.” Accordingly, we consider the MAI trio’s construction of “owner of a copy” controlling in our analysis of whether CTA and Vernor became “owner[s] of a particular copy” of Release 14 software.
In MAI and Triad, the defendants maintained computers that ran the plaintiffs’ operating system software. When the defendants ran the computers, the computers automatically loaded plaintiffs’ software into RAM. The plaintiffs in both cases sold their software pursuant to restrictive license agreements, and we held that their customers were licensees who were therefore not entitled to claim the essential step defense. We found that the defendants infringed plaintiffs’ software copyrights by their unauthorized loading of copyrighted software into RAM. In Triad, the plaintiff had earlier sold software outright to some customers. We noted that these customers were owners who were entitled to the essential step defense, and the defendant did not infringe by making RAM copies in servicing their computers.
In Wall Data, plaintiff sold 3,663 software licenses to the defendant. The licenses (1) were non-exclusive; (2) permitted use of the software on a single computer; and (3) permitted transfer of the software once per month, if the software was removed from the original computer. The defendant installed the software onto 6,007 computers via hard drive imaging, which saved it from installing the software manually on each computer. It made an unverified claim that only 3,663 users could simultaneously access the software.
The plaintiff sued for copyright infringement, contending that the defendant violated the license by “over-installing” the software. The defendant raised an essential step defense, contending that its hard drive imaging was a necessary step of installation. On appeal, we held that the district court did not abuse its discretion in denying the defendant’s request for a jury instruction on the essential step defense. Citing MAI, we held that the essential step defense does not apply where the copyright owner grants the user a license and significantly restricts the user’s ability to transfer the software. Since the plaintiff’s license imposed “significant restrictions” on the defendant’s software rights, the defendant was a licensee and was not entitled to the essential step defense.
In Wall Data, we acknowledged that MAI had been criticized in a Federal Circuit decision, but declined to revisit its holding, noting that the facts of Wall Data led to the conclusion that any error in the district court’s failure to instruct was harmless. Even if the defendant owned its copies of the software, its installation of the software on a number of computers in excess of its license was not an essential step in the software’s use.
We read Wise and the MAI trio to prescribe three considerations that we may use to determine whether a software user is a licensee, rather than an owner of a copy. First, we consider whether the copyright owner specifies that a user is granted a license. Second, we consider whether the copyright owner significantly restricts the user’s ability to transfer the software. Finally, we consider whether the copyright owner imposes notable use restrictions. Our holding reconciles the MAI trio and Wise, even though the MAI trio did not cite Wise.
In response to MAI, Congress amended § 117 to permit a computer owner to copy software for maintenance or repair purposes. See 17 U.S.C. § 117(c). However, Congress did not disturb MAI’s holding that licensees are not entitled to the essential step defense.
IV. We hold today that a software user is a licensee rather than an owner of a copy where the copyright owner (1) specifies that the user is granted a license; (2) significantly restricts the user’s ability to transfer the software; and (3) imposes notable use restrictions. Applying our holding to Autodesk’s SLA, we conclude that CTA was a licensee rather than an owner of copies of Release 14 and thus was not entitled to invoke the first sale doctrine or the essential step defense.
“a software user is a licensee rather than an owner of a copy [of a software program] where the copyright owner (1) specifies that the user is granted a license; (2) significantly restricts the user’s ability to transfer the software; and (3) imposes notable use restrictions.”
Autodesk retained title to the software and imposed significant transfer restrictions: it stated that the license is nontransferable, the software could not be transferred or leased without Autodesk’s written consent, and the software could not be transferred outside the Western Hemisphere. The SLA also imposed use restrictions against the use of the software outside the Western Hemisphere and against modifying, translating, or reverse-engineering the software, removing any proprietary marks from the software or documentation, or defeating any copy protection device. Furthermore, the SLA provided for termination of the license upon the licensee’s unauthorized copying or failure to comply with other license restrictions. Thus, because Autodesk reserved title to Release 14 copies and imposed significant transfer and use restrictions, we conclude that its customers are licensees of their copies of Release 14 rather than owners.
CTA was a licensee rather than an “owner of a particular copy” of Release 14, and it was not entitled to resell its Release 14 copies to Vernor under the first sale doctrine. 17 U.S.C. § 109(a). Therefore, Vernor did not receive title to the copies from CTA and accordingly could not pass ownership on to others. Both CTA’s and Vernor’s sales infringed Autodesk’s exclusive right to distribute copies of its work.
Because Vernor was not an owner, his customers are also not owners of Release 14 copies. Therefore, when they install Release 14 on their computers, the copies of the software that they make during installation infringe Autodesk’s exclusive reproduction right because they too are not entitled to the benefit of the essential step defense.
Although our holding today is controlled by our precedent, we recognize the significant policy considerations raised by the parties and amici on both sides of this appeal.
Autodesk, the Software & Information Industry Association (“SIIA”), and the Motion Picture Association of America (“MPAA”) have presented policy arguments that favor our result. For instance, Autodesk argues in favor of judicial enforcement of software license agreements that restrict transfers of copies of the work. Autodesk contends that this (1) allows for tiered pricing for different software markets, such as reduced pricing for students or educational institutions; (2) increases software companies’ sales; (3) lowers prices for all consumers by spreading costs among a large number of purchasers; and (4) reduces the incidence of piracy by allowing copyright owners to bring infringement actions against unauthorized resellers. SIIA argues that a license can exist even where a customer (1) receives his copy of the work after making a single payment and (2) can indefinitely possess a software copy, because it is the software code and associated rights that are valuable rather than the inexpensive discs on which the code may be stored. Also, the MPAA argues that a customer’s ability to possess a copyrighted work indefinitely should not compel a finding of a first sale, because there is often no practically feasible way for a consumer to return a copy to the copyright owner.
Vernor, eBay, and the American Library Association (“ALA”) have presented policy arguments against our decision. Vernor contends that our decision (1) does not vindicate the law’s aversion to restraints on alienation of personal property; (2) may force everyone purchasing copyrighted property to trace the chain of title to ensure that a first sale occurred; and (3) ignores the economic realities of the relevant transactions, in which the copyright owner permanently released software copies into the stream of commerce without expectation of return in exchange for upfront payment of the full software price. eBay contends that a broad view of the first sale doctrine is necessary to facilitate the creation of secondary markets for copyrighted works, which contributes to the public good by (1) giving consumers additional opportunities to purchase and sell copyrighted works, often at below-retail prices; (2) allowing consumers to obtain copies of works after a copyright owner has ceased distribution; and (3) allowing the proliferation of businesses.
The ALA contends that the first sale doctrine facilitates the availability of copyrighted works after their commercial lifespan, by inter alia enabling the existence of libraries, used bookstores, and hand-to-hand exchanges of copyrighted materials. The ALA further contends that judicial enforcement of software license agreements, which are often contracts of adhesion, could eliminate the software resale market, require used computer sellers to delete legitimate software prior to sale, and increase prices for consumers by reducing price competition for software vendors. It contends that Autodesk’s position (1) undermines 17 U.S.C. § 109(b)(2), which permits non-profit libraries to lend software for non-commercial purposes, and (2) would hamper efforts by non-profits to collect and preserve out-of-print software. The ALA fears that the software industry’s licensing practices could be adopted by other copyright owners, including book publishers, record labels, and movie studios.
These are serious contentions on both sides, but they do not alter our conclusion that our precedent from Wise through the MAI trio requires the result we reach. Congress is free, of course, to modify the first sale doctrine and the essential step defense if it deems these or other policy considerations to require a different approach.
Notes and Questions
1. Policy factors. In Part V of its opinion, the court in Vernor discusses a number of public policy rationales both supporting and refuting the treatment of software as licensed rather than sold. It acknowledges that while there are “serious contentions on both sides,” these do not alter the court’s conclusion, which it purports to base on its own binding precedent. Which side of the debate do you feel has the stronger policy arguments in its favor?
2. The essential step defense. As noted by the court in Vernor, § 117(a)(1) of the Copyright Act provides that the “owner of a copy” of a copyrighted software program does not infringe by making a copy of the computer program if the new copy is “created as an essential step in the utilization of the computer program in conjunction with a machine and … is used in no other manner.” In effect, this provision was intended to insulate the vast majority of software users whose computers “copy” every software program into their memory as part of the execution of that program. But what happens to this essential step defense if software users do not “own” copies of the software programs? Is anything still covered by the essential step defense? How does the court deal with this issue? Should Congress step in to amend § 117(a)(1) further? If so, what amendment would you propose?
3. Doubling down on MAI. In Vernor, the Ninth Circuit acknowledges that its 1993 decision in MAI was criticized by the Federal Circuit. In DSC Commc’ns Corp. v. Pulse Commc’ns, Inc., 170 F.3d 1354, 1360 (Fed. Cir. 1999), the Federal Circuit states:
In the leading case on section 117 ownership, the Ninth Circuit considered an agreement in which MAI, the owner of a software copyright, transferred copies of the copyrighted software to Peak under an agreement that imposed severe restrictions on Peak’s rights with respect to those copies. The court held that Peak was not an “owner” of the copies of the software for purposes of section 117 and thus did not enjoy the right to copy conferred on owners by that statute. The Ninth Circuit stated that it reached the conclusion that Peak was not an owner because Peak had licensed the software from MAI. That explanation of the court’s decision has been criticized for failing to recognize the distinction between ownership of a copyright, which can be licensed, and ownership of copies of the copyrighted software. Plainly, a party who purchases copies of software from the copyright owner can hold a license under a copyright while still being an “owner” of a copy of the copyrighted software for purposes of section 117. We therefore do not adopt the Ninth Circuit’s characterization of all licensees as non-owners.
Despite this criticism, the Federal Circuit later concedes that the Ninth Circuit was correct to consider Peak to be a licensee, and not an owner, of the software in question. What’s more, the Federal Circuit found that the software user in its own case should be treated as a licensee and not an owner. Given these results, is it surprising that the Ninth Circuit effectively doubled-down on MAI in Vernor?
4. MAI and software maintenance. The Ninth Circuit’s MAI case is perhaps most infamous for its holding that a computer maintenance provider was liable for infringement when it ran a client’s software for maintenance purposes. As noted by the Ninth Circuit in Vernor, “In response to MAI, Congress amended § 117 to permit a computer owner to copy software for maintenance or repair purposes.” Section 117(c) of the Copyright Act reads as follows:
(c) Machine Maintenance or Repair.—Notwithstanding the provisions of section 106, it is not an infringement for the owner or lessee of a machine to make or authorize the making of a copy of a computer program if such copy is made solely by virtue of the activation of a machine that lawfully contains an authorized copy of the computer program, for purposes only of maintenance or repair of that machine, if—
(1) such new copy is used in no other manner and is destroyed immediately after the maintenance or repair is completed; and
(2) with respect to any computer program or part thereof that is not necessary for that machine to be activated, such program or part thereof is not accessed or used other than to make such new copy by virtue of the activation of the machine.
Thus, the exception to infringement under Section 117(c) is based on a user’s ownership of a “machine,” rather than its ownership of a copy of a software program, as is the exclusion under § 117(a)(1). Did Congress get it right in § 117(c) but not § 117(a)(1)? Should Congress seek to reconcile these statutory provisions?
5. Back to books. Suppose that the Bobbs-Merrill case had been heard the year after Vernor was decided. Do you think that the court would have reached a different conclusion? What if Bobbs-Merrill, instead of printing its $1.00 resale price limitation on the copyright page of each book, packaged the book in a cellophane wrapper through which the resale limitation was clearly visible. Would this change the outcome? What if Bobbs-Merrill distributed books under a “shrinkwrap” license agreement (see Section 17.1) that included the resale price limitation? Finally, what if Bobbs-Merrill had entered into a “Book Supply and Resale Agreement” with Macy’s which contained a contractual clause imposing the resale price limitation? At what point would the first sale doctrine yield to a contractual arrangement between the parties?
6. Software and things. Even if software programs themselves are licensed to consumers, software increasingly inhabits tangible products from kitchen appliances to automobiles. These products are still bought and sold. What does it mean, then, to purchase a programmable toaster? Does the consumer own the aluminum body and circuitry, but not the software inside the device? What does that mean when the consumer wishes to sell the toaster, or donate it to charity, or throw it away? Licensees are not usually permitted to exercise these rights with respect to licensed software. Does the software producer thus begin to exert control over the consumer’s right to dispose of his or her tangible property? If not, do we need to rethink the answer to the sale versus license question?
7. A step back? A year after Vernor, the Ninth Circuit decided UMG Recordings v. Augusto, 628 F.3d 1175 (9th Cir. 2011). The case related to promotional music CDs that UMG distributed to music critics and radio disc jockeys. The CDs were labeled with printed notices such as:
This CD is the property of the record company and is licensed to the intended recipient for personal use only. Acceptance of this CD shall constitute an agreement to comply with the terms of the license. Resale or transfer of possession is not allowed and may be punishable under federal and state laws.
Augusto acquired some of these CDs through unknown channels and sold them on eBay. UMG sued Augusto for copyright infringement, alleging that he violated UMG’s exclusive right to distribute the CDs. The Ninth Circuit ruled in favor of Augusto, holding that, unlike copies of computer software,
under all the circumstances of the CDs’ distribution, the recipients were entitled to use or dispose of them in any manner they saw fit, and UMG did not enter a license agreement for the CDs with the recipients. Accordingly, UMG transferred title to the particular copies of its promotional CDs and cannot maintain an infringement action against Augusto for his subsequent sale of those copies.
What do you make of this holding, especially in view of the express language on the CD labels that “This CD is the property of the record company and is licensed to the intended recipient”? Is this case consistent with Vernor? How does the holding of UMG gibe with shrinkwrap license cases such as ProCD v. Zeidenberg (see Chapter 17)?
8. First sale in the digital world? Some argue that the debate over whether the “purchase” of software on physical media is moot today, as almost all consumer software is distributed via online download, either to a computer or a phone. In addition to software, most music and a growing percentage of books are also delivered electronically, with no physical copy conveyed. As such, most of this electronic content is explicitly licensed to consumers, with no pretense of sale. What does this mean for the first sale doctrine under Bobbs-Merrill? Do consumers own any of their books, music or software today? What are the implications of not owning one’s content?
9. Digital exhaustion? Professor Ariel Katz resists the rumor that “the first-sale doctrine is dying.” He reasons:
Once we … recall that the legal significance of property rights, including intellectual property rights, lies not in the object to which the property rights relate, but in the legal relations between people with respect to that object, we can realize what exhaustion simply means: the right to transfer a lawfully obtained bundle of rights with respect to a work from one person to another, without seeking the … owner’s permission. The bundle of rights may relate to a tangible object embodying a work (such as a book), or it may comprise a set of permissions obtained under a license in relation to a work in digital format (such as a license to download an e-book and install it on one or more devices). In principle, exhaustion could apply to the latter bundle just as it applies to the former.Footnote 2
As such, Professor Katz argues that the “sale” of a software program, a song file or an electronic book should exhaust the copyright owner’s rights to the same degree as the sale of a computer disc, a music CD or a printed book. Do you agree?
23.3 Trademark Exhaustion and First Sale
The gravamen of a trademark infringement claim is consumer confusion as to the source of a marked product. For this reason, the law generally recognizes the right of the owner of a marked product, whether a handbag or a luxury car, to resell it without permission of the manufacturer. The source is still the same manufacturer, even if the particular product has been used. As explained by the Ninth Circuit in Sebastian Int’l, Inc. v. Longs Drug Stores Corp., 53 F.3d 1073, 1077 (9th Cir. 1995):
The right of a producer to control distribution of its trademarked product does not extend beyond the first sale of the product. Resale by the first purchaser of the original article under the producer’s trademark is neither trademark infringement nor unfair competition.
Yet complications arise when a marked product is altered or repackaged in some way before being resold. The following case summarizes the law surrounding first sale and exhaustion of trademark rights.
603 F.3d 1133 (9th Cir. 2010)
WILLIAM A. FLETCHER, CIRCUIT JUDGE
We are asked to decide whether the sale by Au-Tomotive Gold (“Auto Gold”) of marquee license plates bearing Volkswagen badges purchased from Volkswagen constitutes trademark infringement, or whether the sale of the plates is protected by the “first sale” doctrine. In Au-Tomotive Gold, Inc. v. Volkswagen of America, Inc. (“Auto Gold I”), 457 F.3d 1062 (9th Cir. 2006), we concluded that Auto Gold’s production and sale of automobile accessories bearing Volkswagen’s trademarks created a sufficient likelihood of confusion to constitute trademark infringement. We remanded to the district court to address Auto Gold’s “first sale” and other defenses. On remand, the district court granted summary judgment and a permanent injunction to Volkswagen.
We affirm. We hold that the “first sale” doctrine does not provide a defense because Auto Gold’s marquee license plates create a likelihood of confusion as to their origin.
Facts and Proceedings Below
Auto Gold produces and sells automobile accessories for specific makes of cars. Volkswagen and its subsidiary Audi are car manufacturers with well-known trademarks. The trademark at issue in this appeal is the familiar Volkswagen logo consisting of the letters “VW” inside a circle.
Beginning in the 1990s, Auto Gold produced and sold products bearing Volkswagen and Audi trademarks without permission from Volkswagen or Audi. It sold four products: license plates, license plate frames, key chains, and marquee license plates. The first three products used replicas of the companies’ trademarks. However, the marquee license plates used actual VW badges purchased on the open market from a Volkswagen dealer. Auto Gold asserts its “first sale” defense only as to the marquee plates.
The marquee license plates are plain silver or black plates on which Auto Gold has mounted the VW badges. These badges are sold by Volkswagen and are ordinarily used as replacements for the badges found on the hoods or trunks of Volkswagen vehicles. Auto Gold purchased the badges, altered them by removing prongs and (in some cases) gold-plating them, and mounted them on the marquee plates. The plates were packaged with labels that explained that the plates were not produced or sponsored by Volkswagen.
Both parties accept for purposes of this appeal that Volkswagen had knowledge of Auto Gold’s products as early as January 1999. In September 1999, a Volkswagen representative sent a letter to Auto Gold requesting that it cease using the trademarks. When Auto Gold refused to do so, a Volkswagen representative sent a second letter in October 1999. A Volkswagen representative sent a third letter in February 2001.
On April 19, 2001, Auto Gold filed suit seeking a declaratory judgment that its activities did not constitute an infringement or dilution of Volkswagen or Audi trademarks. Volkswagen and Audi counterclaimed, alleging federal trademark counterfeiting and infringement under § 32 of the Lanham Act, false designation, trademark dilution, and related state-law claims. Both parties moved for summary judgment.
The district court granted summary judgment to Auto Gold on all claims, holding that under the doctrine of “aesthetic functionality” the trademarks were “functional” and therefore not protected by trademark law. We reversed. We held that “the use of Volkswagen and Audi’s marks is neither aesthetic nor independent of source identification.” Rather, we held, consumers buy Auto Gold products because of the products’ identification with the companies’ brands. We then remanded to the district court for consideration of Auto Gold’s “first sale” and other related defenses.
The district court rejected Auto Gold’s “first sale” [defense] and granted Volkswagen summary judgment and a permanent injunction. Auto Gold timely appealed.
Discussion
Auto Gold argues that because it purchased actual VW badges from a Volkswagen dealer for use on the marquee license plates, the “first sale” doctrine protects the sale of the plates. We hold that the “first sale” doctrine does not provide a defense because the plates create a likelihood of confusion as to their origin. We do not base our holding on a likelihood of confusion among purchasers of the plates. Rather, we base it on the likelihood of post-purchase confusion among observers who see the plates on purchasers’ cars.
Background
The “first sale” doctrine was first introduced in an opinion by Justice Holmes in Prestonettes, Inc. v. Coty, 264 U.S. 359 (1924). Prestonettes purchased toilet powder and perfumes produced and trademarked by Coty. Prestonettes incorporated the Coty products into its own products by combining the powder with a binder to create a cream and by rebottling the perfumes into smaller bottles. The Supreme Court held that Prestonettes did not violate trademark law. “The defendant of course by virtue of its ownership had a right to compound or change what it bought, to divide either the original or the modified product, and to sell it so divided.”
The Court further held that Prestonettes could identify the components of its products as being Coty trademarked products so long as its labels were not misleading. For example, Prestonettes could place a label on the perfume bottles stating, “Prestonettes, Inc., not connected with Coty, states that the contents are Coty’s … independently rebottled in New York.” It rejected Coty’s argument that Prestonettes should not be allowed to use the Coty trademark in its description of the product because Prestonettes’s products might be inferior. It wrote, “If the compound was worse than the constituent, it might be a misfortune to [Coty], but [Coty] would have no cause of action, as [Prestonettes] was exercising the rights of ownership and only telling the truth. The existence of a trademark would have no bearing on the question.” The Court relied on the fact that consumers would not be confused about the manufacturer of the product. “A trade-mark only gives the right to prohibit the use of it so far as to protect the owner’s good will against the sale of another’s product as his.”
Application of the “first sale” doctrine has generally focused on the likelihood of confusion among consumers. In Sebastian Int’l, Inc. v. Longs Drug Stores Corp., 53 F.3d 1073, 1077 (9th Cir. 1995), we held that the “first sale” doctrine protected Longs when it purchased Sebastian hair products from a distributor and sold them in its own store despite Sebastian’s efforts to allow only “Sebastian Collective Members” to sell the products. We recognized the principle that “the right of a producer to control distribution of its trademarked product does not extend beyond the first sale of the product.” We emphasized that this rule “preserves an area of competition by limiting the producer’s power to control the resale of its product,” while ensuring that “the consumer gets exactly what the consumer bargains for, the genuine product of the particular producer.”
We also applied the “first sale” doctrine in Enesco Corp. v. Price/Costco Inc., 146 F.3d 1083, 1084–85 (9th Cir. 1998), in which Costco purchased porcelain figurines manufactured by Enesco, repackaged them in allegedly inferior packaging, and sold them in its own stores. We held that Costco could repackage and sell the Enesco figurines, but that it was required to place labels on the packages that disclosed to the public that Costco had repackaged Enesco’s original product. We rejected Enesco’s argument that it would be harmed, even with this disclosure, because of the poor quality of the packaging. “The critical issue is whether the public is likely to be confused as a result of the lack of quality control.”
A separate line of cases further illustrates the central role of the likelihood of confusion, including post-purchase confusion, in trademark infringement claims. In this line of cases, we have held that producers committed trademark infringement by selling refurbished or altered goods under their original trademark. None of these cases directly addressed the “first sale” doctrine, but they establish that activities creating a likelihood of post-purchase confusion, even among non-purchasers, are not protected.
In Karl Storz Endoscopy-America, Inc. v. Surgical Tech., Inc. (“Surgi-Tech”), 285 F.3d 848, 852–53 (9th Cir. 2002), SurgiTech repaired Storz endoscopes at the request of hospitals that owned them. Surgi-Tech sometimes rebuilt the endoscopes, replacing every part and retaining only the block element bearing Storz’s trademarks. At an earlier time, Surgi-Tech had etched its own mark into rebuilt endoscopes to make clear what it had done, but Surgi-Tech had stopped that practice. Storz submitted evidence of confusion on the part of surgeons who were not the purchasers of the endoscopes but who used them and mistakenly blamed Storz when they malfunctioned. We held that there was a triable issue of fact on Storz’s trademark infringement claim, even though there was no claim of purchaser confusion. We relied entirely on the possibility of confusion among non-purchasers, noting that such confusion “may be no less injurious to the trademark owner’s reputation than confusion on the part of the purchaser at the time of sale.”
We also relied on the likelihood of non-purchaser confusion in Rolex Watch, U.S.A., Inc. v. Michel Co., 179 F.3d 704 (9th Cir. 1999). The defendant sold used Rolex watches that had been “reconditioned” or “customized” with non-Rolex parts. We agreed with the district court that “retention of the original Rolex marks on altered ‘Rolex’ watches … was deceptive and misleading as to the origin of the non-Rolex parts, and likely to cause confusion to subsequent or downstream purchasers, as well as to persons observing the product.”
In both Surgi-Tech and Rolex, we made clear that the defendants did not deceive the direct purchasers of the products. Rather, in both cases, we found trademark infringement based on a likelihood of confusion on the part of non-purchasers.
Application to the Marquee Plates
We held in Auto Gold I that the marquee license plates create a likelihood of post-purchase confusion on the part of observers of the plates. “Shorn of their disclaimer-covered packaging, Auto Gold’s products display no indication visible to the general public that the items are not associated with Audi or Volkswagen. The disclaimers do nothing to dispel post-purchase confusion.” It is likely that a person on the street who sees an Auto Gold marquee license plate with a VW badge will associate the plate with Volkswagen. Indeed, customers buy marquee license plates principally to demonstrate to the general public an association with Volkswagen. “The demand for Auto Gold’s products is inextricably tied to the trademarks themselves.”
Auto Gold, however, maintains that the likelihood of post-purchase confusion does not matter. Auto Gold argues, first, that confusion among non-purchasers is irrelevant in “first sale” cases. However, Auto Gold cannot point to any case in which a court has held that the “first sale” doctrine applies when there is a likelihood of post-purchase confusion. In Prestonettes, there was no suggestion that a third-party could be confused about, or even be aware of, the origin of the facial cream or perfume used by a purchaser. Likewise, there was no possibility of post-purchase confusion as to the origin of the hair products in Sebastian or the porcelain figurines in Enesco.
In each case in which a court has applied the “first sale” doctrine, the court either had good reason not to be concerned with post-purchase confusion or took steps to avoid addressing the issue. In Alexander Binzel Corp., the court noted that Binzel sold its parts to be incorporated into welding guns produced by other manufacturers. The defendant’s “use of Binzel nozzles is fully consistent with Binzel’s profit motive as well as the manner Binzel has chosen to control its product’s reputation.” In Dad’s Kid Corp., the court noted that baseball trading cards are regularly repackaged, displayed, or mounted, and that there was therefore “no likelihood that anyone will be confused as to origin by reason of Dad’s Kid’s treatment of genuine cards.” In Scarves by Vera, Inc., the court noted that the plaintiff’s trademark could be seen on some of the defendant’s bags. It therefore insisted that a disclaimer label be sewn into the bag near the clasp, and plainly visible to anyone opening the handbag.
Post-purchase confusion creates a free-rider problem. Auto Gold contends that in “first sale” cases “the element of ‘free-riding’ present in other post-purchase confusion cases disappears because the producer has paid the price asked by the trademark owner for the ‘ride.’” This contention misses the point. When a producer purchases a trademarked product, that producer is not purchasing the trademark. Rather, the producer is purchasing a product that has been trademarked. If a producer profits from a trademark because of post-purchase confusion about the product’s origin, the producer is, to that degree, a free-rider.
For example, a producer may purchase non-functioning Rolex watches and refurbish them with non-Rolex parts, leaving only the original casing. Even if the producer adequately explains the nature of the refurbished watches to purchasers, the producer nonetheless infringes on Rolex’s trademarks by profiting from the Rolex name. In such a case, the purchasers buy the watches in order to make others think that they have bought a true Rolex watch. The same holds true for new but relatively cheap products that prominently display a well-known trademark. If the producer purchases such a trademarked product and uses that product to create post-purchase confusion as to the source of a new product, the producer is free-riding even though it has paid for the trademarked product.
Next, Auto Gold argues that there is no trademark infringement because its marquee plates are of high quality. But likelihood of confusion, not quality control, is “the ‘key-stone’ of trademark law.” Westinghouse Elec. Corp. v. Gen. Circuit Breakers & Elec. Supply Inc., 106 F.3d 894, 900 (9th Cir. 1997). Courts have consistently held for plaintiffs where there is a possibility of confusion, even where defendants are not selling lower quality goods. See, e.g., Levi Strauss & Co. v. Blue Bell, Inc., 632 F.2d 817, 821–22 (9th Cir. 1980) (pocket tabs on Wrangler jeans infringed upon Levi’s trademark by creating a likelihood of post-purchase confusion despite no contention that Wrangler jeans were of lower quality). Similarly, courts have consistently held for defendants where there was no possibility of confusion, despite the fact that the defendants may have lowered the quality of goods. See, e.g., Prestonettes, 264 U.S. at 367; Enesco Corp., 146 F.3d at 1087.
Finally, Auto Gold argues that the public interest is served by the competition that results from the availability of its products. It may be true that Auto Gold’s activities serve to reduce the price paid by consumers for marquee plates. But trademark law protects trademark holders from the competition that results from trademark infringement, irrespective of its effect on prices.
We therefore conclude that the district court correctly granted summary judgment to Volkswagen on its trademark infringement claim.
AFFIRMED.
Notes and Questions
1. Point of confusion. Much of the court’s reasoning in Auto Gold hangs on the distinction between confusion at the point of sale versus post-purchase confusion. What is the significance of this distinction in the first sale analysis? Do you agree with the court’s determination that post-purchase confusion should be the deciding factor in such cases?
2. Who is confused? Closely related to the point at which confusion is measured is the question of whose confusion is relevant. If confusion is at the point of sale, then the customer making the purchase is the one likely to be confused, and the one that the law seeks to protect. But who is the victim of post-purchase confusion? If the purpose of trademark law is to prevent consumer confusion as to the source of goods, why should the law protect individuals who are not making the decision to purchase the particular good in question? Who is really being protected here?
3. The public interest. As noted by the court, “Auto Gold argues that the public interest is served by the competition that results from the availability of its products.” Do you agree with Auto Gold? Why did the court summarily dismiss this argument? Are there public interest factors that should be considered in trademark exhaustion cases?
4. Used, refurbished and like new. As noted in the introduction to this section, the owner of a trademarked product is free to resell it without the authorization of the trademark owner on the theory that the product was genuinely produced by the trademark owner. This right is limited, however, if the reseller claims that the product is “new” or if the reseller has altered, reconditioned or repackaged the product. In Surgi-Tech and Rolex, discussed by the court in Auto Gold, substantial reconditioning of branded products altered them sufficiently that resale under their original brand was deemed to be likely to cause consumer confusion. But in cases such as Prestonettes and Enesco, repackaging of a branded product was permitted so long as the reseller adequately informed the consumer. Given that Auto Gold did not make any changes to the VW sticker that it used on its marquee license plates, how would you square the holding in Auto Gold with these precedentys?
23.4 Patent Exhaustion
Just as with copyrighted materials and goods bearing trademarks, patented articles are subject to an exhaustion doctrine. The Supreme Court offers the rationale for this doctrine in United States v. Univis Lens Co., 316 U.S. 241, 251 (1942):
the purpose of the patent law is fulfilled with respect to any particular article when the patentee has received his reward for the use of his invention by the sale of the article, and that, once that purpose is realized, the patent law affords no basis for restraining the use and enjoyment of the thing sold.
Yet the patent exhaustion doctrine originated long before the Court’s decision in Univis. The following early case helped to establish the modern contours of the exhaustion doctrine.Footnote 3
84 U.S. 453 (1873)
On the 26th day of May, 1863, letters-patent were granted to Merrill & Horner, for a certain improvement in coffin lids, giving to them the exclusive right of making, using, and vending to others to be used, the said improvement.
On the 13th day of March, 1865, Merrill & Horner, the patentees, by an assignment duly executed and recorded, assigned Lockhart & Seelye, of Cambridge, in Middlesex County, Massachusetts, all the right, title, and interest which the said patentees had in the invention described in the said letters-patent, for, to, and in a circle whose radius is ten miles, having the city of Boston as a centre. They subsequently assigned the patent, or what right they retained in it, to one Adams.
Adams now filed a bill in the court below, against a certain Burke, an undertaker, who used in the town of Natick (a town about seventeen miles from Boston, and therefore outside of the circle above mentioned) coffins with lids of the kind patented, alleging him to be an infringer of their patent, and praying for an injunction, discovery, profits, and other relief suitable against an infringer.
The Defendant Pleaded in Bar:
“That he carries on the business of an undertaker, having his place of business in Natick, in said district; that, in the exercise of his said business, he is employed to bury the dead; that when so employed it is his custom to procure hearses, coffins, and whatever else may be necessary or proper for burials, and to superintend the preparation of graves, and that his bills for his services in each case, and the coffin, hearse, and other articles procured by him, are paid by the personal representatives of the deceased; that, since the date of the alleged assignment to the plaintiff of an interest in the invention secured by the said letters-patent, he has sold no coffins, unless the use of coffins by him in his said business, as above described, shall be deemed a sale; has used no coffins, except in his said business as aforesaid; and has manufactured no coffins containing the said invention; and that since the said he has used in his business as aforesaid, in Natick, no coffin containing the invention secured by said letters-patent, except such coffins containing said invention as have been manufactured by said Lockhart & Seelye, within a circle, whose radius is ten miles, having the city of Boston as its centre, and sold within said circle by said Lockhart & Seelye, without condition or restriction.”
Mr. Justice MILLER delivered the opinion of the court.
The question presented by the plea in this case is a very interesting one in patent law, and the precise point in it has never been decided by this court, though cases involving some of the consideration which apply to it have been decided, and others of analogous character are frequently recurring. The vast pecuniary results involved in such cases, as well as the public interest, admonish us to proceed with care, and to decide in each case no more than what is directly in issue.
We have repeatedly held that where a person had purchased a patented machine of the patentee or his assignee, this purchase carried with it the right to the use of that machine so long as it was capable of use, and that the expiration and renewal of the patent, whether in favor of the original patentee or of his assignee, did not affect this right. The true ground on which these decisions rest is that the sale by a person who has the full right to make, sell, and use such a machine carries with it the right to the use of that machine to the full extent to which it can be used in point of time.
The right to manufacture, the right to sell, and the right to use are each substantive rights, and may be granted or conferred separately by the patentee. But, in the essential nature of things, when the patentee, or the person having his rights, sells a machine or instrument whose sole value is in its use, he receives the consideration for its use and he parts with the right to restrict that use. The article, in the language of the court, passes without the limit of the monopoly. That is to say, the patentee or his assignee having in the act of sale received all the royalty or consideration which he claims for the use of his invention in that particular machine or instrument, it is open to the use of the purchaser without further restriction on account of the monopoly of the patentees.
If this principle be sound as to a machine or instrument whose use may be continued for a number of years, and may extend beyond the existence of the patent, as limited at the time of the sale, and into the period of a renewal or extension, it must be much more applicable to an instrument or product of patented manufacture which perishes in the first use of it, or which, by that first use, becomes incapable of further use, and of no further value. Such is the case with the coffin-lids of appellant’s patent.
It seems to us that, although the right of Lockhart & Seelye to manufacture, to sell, and to use these coffin-lids was limited to the circle of ten miles around Boston, that a purchaser from them of a single coffin acquired the right to use that coffin for the purpose for which all coffins are used. That so far as the use of it was concerned, the patentee had received his consideration, and it was no longer within the monopoly of the patent. It would be to engraft a limitation upon the right of use not contemplated by the statute nor within the reason of the contract to say that it could only be used within the ten-miles circle. Whatever, therefore, may be the rule when patentees subdivide territorially their patents, as to the exclusive right to make or to sell within a limited territory, we hold that in the class of machines or implements we have described, when they are once lawfully made and sold, there is no restriction on their use to be implied for benefit of the patentee or his assignees or licensees.
A careful examination of the plea satisfies us that the defendant, who, as an undertaker, purchased each of these coffins and used it in burying the body which he was employed to bury, acquired the right to this use of it freed from any claim of the patentee, though purchased within the ten-mile circle and used without it.
The decree of the Circuit Court dismissing the plaintiff’s bill is, therefore,
AFFIRMED.
Notes and Questions
1. The power of exhaustion. Lockhart & Seelye had the right to manufacture and sell patented coffin lids within a ten-mile radius of Boston. Burke, who purchased a coffin from them, used it in Natick, beyond the ten-mile radius. Yet the Court denied the claim of Adams, who was the owner of the patent rights beyond the ten-mile radius. Why? Because when Lockhart & Seelye made an authorized sale to Burke, the patent rights in that coffin were exhausted and Adams could no longer assert them against those particular coffins. This is a potent concept. What if Lockhart & Seelye set up a coffin factory and began to ship their coffins around the world? Should Adams feel aggrieved? At what point might Adams have a claim against a user of a Lockhart & Seelye coffin beyond the ten-mile radius?
2. A limitation on use? What if the original patentee had assigned to Lockhart & Seelye only the right to manufacture coffins for use within a ten-mile radius of Boston? Could Adams then have argued that the right to use the patented coffins outside of the ten-mile radius was never granted to Lockhart & Seelye, and thus could not be exhausted by their sale to Burke? How would such a limitation on the scope of the right conveyed differ from a contractual clause that simply prohibited Lockhart & Seelye from permitting any coffin they sold to be used outside of their permitted ten-mile radius? For more on this issue, see Section 23.5.
553 U.S. 617 (2008)
THOMAS, JUSTICE
For over 150 years this Court has applied the doctrine of patent exhaustion to limit the patent rights that survive the initial authorized sale of a patented item. In this case, we decide whether patent exhaustion applies to the sale of components of a patented system that must be combined with additional components in order to practice the patented methods. The Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit held that the doctrine does not apply to method patents at all and, in the alternative, that it does not apply here because the sales were not authorized by the license agreement. We disagree on both scores. Because the exhaustion doctrine applies to method patents, and because the license authorizes the sale of components that substantially embody the patents in suit, the sale exhausted the patents.
Respondent LG Electronics, Inc. (LGE), purchased a portfolio of computer technology patents in 1999, including the three patents at issue here: U.S. Patent Nos. 4,939,641 (’641); 5,379,379 (’379); and 5,077,733 (’733) (collectively LGE Patents). The main functions of a computer system are carried out on a microprocessor, or central processing unit, which interprets program instructions, processes data, and controls other devices in the system. A set of wires, or bus, connects the microprocessor to a chipset, which transfers data between the microprocessor and other devices, including the keyboard, mouse, monitor, hard drive, memory, and disk drives.
The data processed by the computer are stored principally in random access memory, also called main memory. Frequently accessed data are generally stored in cache memory, which permits faster access than main memory and is often located on the microprocessor itself. Id., at 84. When copies of data are stored in both the cache and main memory, problems may arise when one copy is changed but the other still contains the original “stale” version of the data. The ’641 patent addresses this problem. It discloses a system for ensuring that the most current data are retrieved from main memory by monitoring data requests and updating main memory from the cache when stale data are requested. The ’379 patent relates to the coordination of requests to read from, and write to, main memory. The ’733 patent addresses the problem of managing the data traffic on a bus connecting two computer components, so that no one device monopolizes the bus.
LGE licensed a patent portfolio, including the LGE Patents, to Intel Corporation (Intel). The cross-licensing agreement (License Agreement) permits Intel to manufacture and sell microprocessors and chipsets that use the LGE Patents (the Intel Products). The License Agreement authorizes Intel to “make, use, sell (directly or indirectly), offer to sell, import or otherwise dispose of” its own products practicing the LGE Patents. Notwithstanding this broad language, the License Agreement contains some limitations.
Relevant here, it stipulates that no license
is granted by either party hereto … to any third party for the combination by a third party of Licensed Products of either party with items, components, or the like acquired … from sources other than a party hereto, or for the use, import, offer for sale or sale of such combination.
The License Agreement purports not to alter the usual rules of patent exhaustion, however, providing that, “[n]otwithstanding anything to the contrary contained in this Agreement, the parties agree that nothing herein shall in any way limit or alter the effect of patent exhaustion that would otherwise apply when a party hereto sells any of its Licensed Products.”
In a separate agreement (Master Agreement), Intel agreed to give written notice to its own customers informing them that, while it had obtained a broad license “ensur[ing] that any Intel product that you purchase is licensed by LGE and thus does not infringe any patent held by LGE,” the license “does not extend, expressly or by implication, to any product that you make by combining an Intel product with any non-Intel product.”
The Master Agreement also provides that “a breach of this Agreement shall have no effect on and shall not be grounds for termination of the Patent License.”
Petitioners, including Quanta Computer (collectively Quanta), are a group of computer manufacturers. Quanta purchased microprocessors and chipsets from Intel and received the notice required by the Master Agreement. Nonetheless, Quanta manufactured computers using Intel parts in combination with non-Intel memory and buses in ways that practice the LGE Patents. Quanta does not modify the Intel components and follows Intel’s specifications to incorporate the parts into its own systems.
LGE filed a complaint against Quanta, asserting that the combination of the Intel Products with non-Intel memory and buses infringed the LGE Patents. The District Court granted summary judgment to Quanta, holding that, for purposes of the patent exhaustion doctrine, the license LGE granted to Intel resulted in forfeiture of any potential infringement actions against legitimate purchasers of the Intel Products. In a subsequent order limiting its summary judgment ruling, the court held that patent exhaustion applies only to apparatus or composition-of-matter claims that describe a physical object, and does not apply to process, or method, claims that describe operations to make or use a product.
The Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit affirmed in part and reversed in part. It agreed that the doctrine of patent exhaustion does not apply to method claims. In the alternative, it concluded that exhaustion did not apply because LGE did not license Intel to sell the Intel Products to Quanta for use in combination with non-Intel products.
We granted certiorari.
The longstanding doctrine of patent exhaustion provides that the initial authorized sale of a patented item terminates all patent rights to that item.
[The early history of patent exhaustion is omitted]
This Court most recently discussed patent exhaustion in United States v. Univis Lens Co., 316 U.S. 241 (1942), on which the District Court relied. Univis Lens Company, the holder of patents on eyeglass lenses, licensed a purchaser to manufacture lens blanksFootnote 4 by fusing together different lens segments to create bi- and tri-focal lenses and to sell them to other Univis licensees at agreed-upon rates. Wholesalers were licensed to grind the blanks into the patented finished lenses, which they would then sell to Univis-licensed prescription retailers for resale at a fixed rate. Finishing retailers, after grinding the blanks into patented lenses, would sell the finished lenses to consumers at the same fixed rate. The United States sued Univis under the Sherman Act, alleging unlawful restraints on trade.Footnote 5 Univis asserted its patent monopoly rights as a defense to the antitrust suit. The Court granted certiorari to determine whether Univis’ patent monopoly survived the sale of the lens blanks by the licensed manufacturer and therefore shielded Univis’ pricing scheme from the Sherman Act.
The Court assumed that the Univis patents containing claims for finished lenses were practiced in part by the wholesalers and finishing retailers who ground the blanks into lenses, and held that the sale of the lens blanks exhausted the patents on the finished lenses. The Court explained that the lens blanks “embodi[ed] essential features of the patented device and [were] without utility until … ground and polished as the finished lens of the patent.” The Court noted that:
where one has sold an uncompleted article which, because it embodies essential features of his patented invention, is within the protection of his patent, and has destined the article to be finished by the purchaser in conformity to the patent, he has sold his invention so far as it is or may be embodied in that particular article.
In sum, the Court concluded that the traditional bar on patent restrictions following the sale of an item applies when the item sufficiently embodies the patent—even if it does not completely practice the patent—such that its only and intended use is to be finished under the terms of the patent.
With this history of the patent exhaustion doctrine in mind, we turn to the parties’ arguments.
A
LGE argues that the exhaustion doctrine is inapplicable here because it does not apply to method claims, which are contained in each of the LGE Patents. LGE reasons that, because method patents are linked not to a tangible article but to a process, they can never be exhausted through a sale. Rather, practicing the patent—which occurs upon each use of an article embodying a method patent—is permissible only to the extent rights are transferred in an assignment contract. Quanta, in turn, argues that there is no reason to preclude exhaustion of method claims, and points out that both this Court and the Federal Circuit have applied exhaustion to method claims. It argues that any other rule would allow patent holders to avoid exhaustion entirely by inserting method claims in their patent specifications.
Quanta has the better of this argument. Nothing in this Court’s approach to patent exhaustion supports LGE’s argument that method patents cannot be exhausted. It is true that a patented method may not be sold in the same way as an article or device, but methods nonetheless may be “embodied” in a product, the sale of which exhausts patent rights. Our precedents do not differentiate transactions involving embodiments of patented methods or processes from those involving patented apparatuses or materials. To the contrary, this Court has repeatedly held that method patents were exhausted by the sale of an item that embodied the method. These cases rest on solid footing. Eliminating exhaustion for method patents would seriously undermine the exhaustion doctrine. Patentees seeking to avoid patent exhaustion could simply draft their patent claims to describe a method rather than an apparatus. Apparatus and method claims “may approach each other so nearly that it will be difficult to distinguish the process from the function of the apparatus.” By characterizing their claims as method instead of apparatus claims, or including a method claim for the machine’s patented method of performing its task, a patent drafter could shield practically any patented item from exhaustion.
This case illustrates the danger of allowing such an end-run around exhaustion. On LGE’s theory, although Intel is authorized to sell a completed computer system that practices the LGE Patents, any downstream purchasers of the system could nonetheless be liable for patent infringement. Such a result would violate the longstanding principle that, when a patented item is “once lawfully made and sold, there is no restriction on [its] use to be implied for the benefit of the patentee.” We therefore reject LGE’s argument that method claims, as a category, are never exhaustible.
We next consider the extent to which a product must embody a patent in order to trigger exhaustion. Quanta argues that, although sales of an incomplete article do not necessarily exhaust the patent in that article, the sale of the microprocessors and chipsets exhausted LGE’s patents in the same way the sale of the lens blanks exhausted the patents in Univis. Just as the lens blanks in Univis did not fully practice the patents at issue because they had not been ground into finished lenses, Quanta observes, the Intel Products cannot practice the LGE Patents—or indeed, function at all—until they are combined with memory and buses in a computer system … We agree with Quanta that Univis governs this case. As the Court there explained, exhaustion was triggered by the sale of the lens blanks because their only reasonable and intended use was to practice the patent and because they “embodie[d] essential features of [the] patented invention.” Each of those attributes is shared by the microprocessors and chipsets Intel sold to Quanta under the License Agreement.
First, Univis held that “the authorized sale of an article which is capable of use only in practicing the patent is a relinquishment of the patent monopoly with respect to the article sold.” Here, LGE has suggested no reasonable use for the Intel Products other than incorporating them into computer systems that practice the LGE Patents. Nor can we discern one: A microprocessor or chipset cannot function until it is connected to buses and memory. And here, as in Univis, the only apparent object of Intel’s sales to Quanta was to permit Quanta to incorporate the Intel Products into computers that would practice the patents.
Second, the lens blanks in Univis “embodie[d] essential features of [the] patented invention.” Like the Univis lens blanks, the Intel Products constitute a material part of the patented invention and all but completely practice the patent. Here, as in Univis, the incomplete article substantially embodies the patent because the only step necessary to practice the patent is the application of common processes or the addition of standard parts. Everything inventive about each patent is embodied in the Intel Products.
Having concluded that the Intel Products embodied the patents, we next consider whether their sale to Quanta exhausted LGE’s patent rights. Exhaustion is triggered only by a sale authorized by the patent holder.
LGE argues that there was no authorized sale here because the License Agreement does not permit Intel to sell its products for use in combination with non-Intel products to practice the LGE Patents. It cites General Talking Pictures Corp. v. Western Elec. Co., 304 U.S. 175 and 305 U.S. 124 (1938), in which the manufacturer sold patented amplifiers for commercial use, thereby breaching a license that limited the buyer to selling the amplifiers for private and home use. The Court held that exhaustion did not apply because the manufacturer had no authority to sell the amplifiers for commercial use, and the manufacturer “could not convey to petitioner what both knew it was not authorized to sell.” LGE argues that the same principle applies here: Intel could not convey to Quanta what both knew it was not authorized to sell, i.e., the right to practice the patents with non-Intel parts.
LGE overlooks important aspects of the structure of the Intel–LGE transaction. Nothing in the License Agreement restricts Intel’s right to sell its microprocessors and chipsets to purchasers who intend to combine them with non-Intel parts. It broadly permits Intel to “make, use, [or] sell” products free of LGE’s patent claims. To be sure, LGE did require Intel to give notice to its customers, including Quanta, that LGE had not licensed those customers to practice its patents. But neither party contends that Intel breached the agreement in that respect. In any event, the provision requiring notice to Quanta appeared only in the Master Agreement, and LGE does not suggest that a breach of that agreement would constitute a breach of the License Agreement. Hence, Intel’s authority to sell its products embodying the LGE Patents was not conditioned on the notice or on Quanta’s decision to abide by LGE’s directions in that notice.
LGE points out that the License Agreement specifically disclaimed any license to third parties to practice the patents by combining licensed products with other components. But the question whether third parties received implied licenses is irrelevant because Quanta asserts its right to practice the patents based not on implied license but on exhaustion. And exhaustion turns only on Intel’s own license to sell products practicing the LGE Patents.
Alternatively, LGE invokes the principle that patent exhaustion does not apply to post-sale restrictions on “making” an article. But this is simply a rephrasing of its argument that combining the Intel Products with other components adds more than standard finishing to complete a patented article. As explained above, making a product that substantially embodies a patent is, for exhaustion purposes, no different from making the patented article itself. In other words, no further “making” results from the addition of standard parts—here, the buses and memory—to a product that already substantially embodies the patent.
The License Agreement authorized Intel to sell products that practiced the LGE Patents. No conditions limited Intel’s authority to sell products substantially embodying the patents. Because Intel was authorized to sell its products to Quanta, the doctrine of patent exhaustion prevents LGE from further asserting its patent rights with respect to the patents substantially embodied by those products.Footnote 6
The authorized sale of an article that substantially embodies a patent exhausts the patent holder’s rights and prevents the patent holder from invoking patent law to control post-sale use of the article. Here, LGE licensed Intel to practice any of its patents and to sell products practicing those patents. Intel’s microprocessors and chipsets substantially embodied the LGE Patents because they had no reasonable noninfringing use and included all the inventive aspects of the patented methods. Nothing in the License Agreement limited Intel’s ability to sell its products practicing the LGE Patents. Intel’s authorized sale to Quanta thus took its products outside the scope of the patent monopoly, and as a result, LGE can no longer assert its patent rights against Quanta. Accordingly, the judgment of the Court of Appeals is reversed.
Notes and Questions
1. Exhaustion of method claims. According to some observers, the Court thought that the principal holding of Quanta established that patent exhaustion applied to method claims. As Justice Thomas writes, failing to recognize patent exhaustion of method claims would be “an end-run around exhaustion.” What did he mean?
2. Embodiment of a patent. The Court in Quanta relies heavily on its earlier reasoning in Univis, in which patents covering finished optical lenses were found to be exhausted upon the patentee’s sale of unfinished lens blanks. How can an unpolished piece of glass embody the “essential features” of an optical lens? By the same token, how can Intel’s chips, which lacked the buses and memory claimed in LGE’s patents, exhaust those patents?
3. Exhaustion policy? As noted by Fred Server and William Casey, the Quanta decision has been criticized for
perpetuating a draconian per se rule against post-sale vertical restraints that runs counter to the trend in competition law to evaluate such restraints with greater subtlety and to view them more favorably … exacerbated by the Court’s recurring failure to articulate a clear and compelling policy rationale in support of the doctrine.Footnote 7
Do you agree with this critique? What do you think the Court viewed as the overriding policy concern of patent exhaustion? Do you think that a more nuanced test for patent exhaustion, perhaps modeled on “rule of reason” analysis under antitrust law (see Section 25.1), is warranted?
4. A license exclusion? The license agreement between LGE and Intel stated that “no license is granted … to any third party for the combination by a third party of Licensed Products … with items, components, or the like acquired … from sources other than a party hereto, or for the use, import, offer for sale or sale of such combination.” What was the purpose of this clause? Why do you think it was written in terms of no license rights being granted to a third party? Why do you think that Intel, knowing that it planned to sell chips to computer manufacturers like Quanta, agreed to this exclusionary language?Footnote 8
What do you make of the additional clause in the License Agreement, “nothing herein shall in any way limit or alter the effect of patent exhaustion that would otherwise apply when a party hereto sells any of its Licensed Products.” Why would the parties include such a clause in the License Agreement? Which of them do you think insisted on this clause?
Of course, the Court, in analyzing the license agreement, concluded that the exclusionary language was largely irrelevant. Quanta was not arguing that it had obtained a license from LGE, it was arguing that LGE’s patent rights were exhausted upon Intel’s sale of chips. Why was this such an important difference?
If LGE really wanted to limit the rights that Intel’s customers obtained, couldn’t LGE have limited the rights that it granted to Intel in the first place? That is, could LGE’s license to Intel have been limited to manufacturing and selling chips on a standalone basis, but not combining the chips with other computer components? Would such a limitation have defeated patent exhaustion? What might have Intel’s reaction been to such language?
5. Customer notification and limitations. Under a separate master agreement between LGE and Intel, Intel agreed to notify its customers that Intel’s broad license from LGE “does not extend, expressly or by implication, to any product that you make by combining an Intel product with any non-Intel product.” What was the purpose of this notification requirement? Why would Intel agree to this requirement? Did such a notice have any legal effect on Intel’s customers?
6. Other contractual limitations? Footnote 7 of the Quanta opinion (reproduced in the case above) has occasioned significant speculation. The Court seemingly leaves open the door to a breach of contract claim even if patent rights have been exhausted. Thus, if Intel had failed to notify Quanta of LGE’s position that computer manufacturers were not licensed under LGE’s patents, LGE might have a breach of contract claim against Intel. What damages might be available to LGE if such a claim were successful, given the exhaustion of LGE’s patents?
7. What is an exhaustive license? What constitutes a “license” for the purposes of patent exhaustion? The license that LGE granted to Intel clearly exhausted LGE’s patents. But what if the agreement were less clear? For example, in De Forest Radio Telephone Co. v. United States, 273 U.S. 236, 241 (1927), the Supreme Court held that “No formal granting of a license is necessary in order to give it effect. Any language used by the owner of the patent, or any conduct on his part exhibited to another from which that other may properly infer that the owner consents to his use of the patent in making or using it, or selling it, upon which the other acts, constitutes a license.” And in Ortho Pharmaceutical Corp. v. Genetics Institute, Inc., 52 F.3d 1026, 1031 (Fed. Cir. 1995), the Federal Circuit wrote that “A license may amount to no more than a covenant by the patentee not to sue the licensee for making, using or selling the patented invention.” Given this precedent, could a patent holder’s conduct short of granting a formal license agreement exhaust its patents?
Consider, for example, the “CDMA ASIC Agreements” that patent owner Qualcomm entered into with makers of wireless telecommunication chips, as described in FTC v. Qualcomm (9th Cir., Aug. 11, 2020). As described by the court, these agreements “allow Qualcomm’s competitors to practice Qualcomm’s [patents] royalty-free,” though they are not called licenses. Could such agreements exhaust Qualcomm’s patents?Footnote 9
8. Exhaustion and self-propagating inventions – patented plants. In Bowman v. Monsanto, 569 U.S. 278 (2013), Monsanto patented a genetic modification that makes soybean plants resistant to glyphosate, a potent herbicide marketed by Monsanto as Roundup.Footnote 10 Monsanto and its licensees sell these seeds to growers who are contractually permitted to use or sell the resulting soybeans for consumption (human or animal). However, they must also agree not to save any of the harvested soybeans for replanting. One farmer, Vernon Bowman, however, thought he found a way to circumvent Monsanto’s replanting restrictions. As the Court explains, he
went to a grain elevator; purchased “commodity soybeans” intended for human or animal consumption; and planted them in his fields. Those soybeans came from prior harvests of other local farmers. And because most of those farmers also used Roundup Ready seed, Bowman could anticipate that many of the purchased soybeans would contain Monsanto’s patented technology. When he applied a glyphosate-based herbicide to his fields, he confirmed that this was so; a significant proportion of the new plants survived the treatment, and produced in their turn a new crop of soybeans with the Roundup Ready trait. Bowman saved seed from that crop to use in his late-season planting the next year—and then the next, and the next, until he had harvested eight crops in that way. Each year, that is, he planted saved seed from the year before (sometimes adding more soybeans bought from the grain elevator), sprayed his fields with glyphosate to kill weeds (and any non-resistant plants), and produced a new crop of glyphosate-resistant—i.e., Roundup Ready—soybeans.
After discovering this practice, Monsanto sued Bowman for infringing its patents on Roundup Ready seed. Bowman raised patent exhaustion as a defense, arguing that Monsanto could not control his use of the soybeans because they were the subject of a prior authorized sale (from local farmers to the grain elevator).
The Supreme Court, in a unanimous decision, ruled against Bowman, reasoning as follows:
Under the patent exhaustion doctrine, Bowman could resell the patented soybeans he purchased from the grain elevator; so too he could consume the beans himself or feed them to his animals … But the exhaustion doctrine does not enable Bowman to make additional patented soybeans without Monsanto’s permission (either express or implied). And that is precisely what Bowman did. He took the soybeans he purchased home; planted them in his fields at the time he thought best; applied glyphosate to kill weeds (as well as any soy plants lacking the Roundup Ready trait); and finally harvested more (many more) beans than he started with. That is how “to ‘make’ a new product,” to use Bowman’s words, when the original product is a seed. Because Bowman thus reproduced Monsanto’s patented invention, the exhaustion doctrine does not protect him.
What do you think of the Court’s reasoning with respect to patent exhaustion? Should all of Monsanto’s patent rights have been exhausted with respect to each seed once it was sold the first time? Does it make a difference that a seed, by its very nature, will grow into a soybean plant without substantial alteration by its owner?
The Court, in supporting its result, also relies on several policy and instrumentalist arguments, attempting to demonstrate that any other result would be irrational:
Were the matter otherwise, Monsanto’s patent would provide scant benefit. After inventing the Roundup Ready trait, Monsanto would, to be sure, “receiv[e] [its] reward” for the first seeds it sells. But in short order, other seed companies could reproduce the product and market it to growers, thus depriving Monsanto of its monopoly. And farmers themselves need only buy the seed once, whether from Monsanto, a competitor, or (as here) a grain elevator. The grower could multiply his initial purchase, and then multiply that new creation, ad infinitum—each time profiting from the patented seed without compensating its inventor. Bowman’s late-season plantings offer a prime illustration.
What alternative policy arguments would you raise if you represented Bowman?
9. Exhaustion across IP types. Now that you have seen how the first sale and exhaustion doctrines work across copyright, trademark and patent law, what common features can you identify among these three bodies of law? What important differences do you find?
23.5 Conditional Sales and Post-Sale Restrictions
Ever since Adams v. Burke, patent licensors have experimented with contractual mechanisms to limit the rights that their licensees can impart to purchasers of licensed products. They sought to limit contractually the rights granted to licensees in such a way that the licensees’ sale of products would not, under the right circumstances, exhaust the patent. For example, what if the patent holders in Adams v. Burke had expressly limited Lockhart & Seelye’s rights to the sale of coffins for use within a ten-mile radius of Boston? Would Burke’s use outside of that radius have constituted patent infringement?
The question of the effect of “conditional sales” of patented articles was addressed by the Federal Circuit in Mallinckrodt, Inc. v. Medipart, Inc., 976 F.2d 700 (Fed. Cir. 1992). In that case, Mallinckrodt produced a patented device known as “UltraVent” which delivered a radioactive aerosol mist to the lungs of a patient for the diagnosis and treatment of pulmonary disease. Each UltraVent device was marked “Single Use Only.” The package insert provided with each unit stated that the entire contaminated device should be disposed of as biohazardous waste material. Contrary to these instructions, several hospitals that purchased UltraVent devices did not dispose of them after the first use, but instead shipped them to Medipart, which sterilized and returned them to the hospitals as “reconditioned” devices. The hospitals then used these reconditioned devices in apparent violation of their “single use only” labeling. Mallinckrodt, upon learning of this practice, sued Medipart for patent infringement and inducement to infringe. It argued, among other things, that:
the restriction on reuse could be construed as a label license for a specified field of use, wherein the field is single (i.e., disposable) use;
the restriction is valid and enforceable under the patent law because the use is within the scope of the patent grant, and the restriction does not enlarge the patent grant;
a license to less than all uses of a patented article is well recognized and a valid practice under patent law;
the restriction is reasonable because it is based on health, safety, efficacy, and liability considerations and violates no public policy; and
use in violation of the restriction is patent infringement.
The federal circuit agreed with Mallinckrodt, reasoning that:
If the sale of the UltraVent was validly conditioned under the applicable law such as the law governing sales and licenses, and if the restriction on reuse was within the scope of the patent grant or otherwise justified, then violation of the restriction may be remedied by action for patent infringement.
137 S. Ct. 1523 (2017)
ROBERTS, CHIEF JUSTICE
The underlying dispute in this case is about laser printers—or, more specifically, the cartridges that contain the powdery substance, known as toner, that laser printers use to make an image appear on paper. Respondent Lexmark International, Inc. designs, manufactures, and sells toner cartridges to consumers in the United States and around the globe. It owns a number of patents that cover components of those cartridges and the manner in which they are used. When toner cartridges run out of toner they can be refilled and used again. This creates an opportunity for other companies—known as remanufacturers—to acquire empty Lexmark cartridges from purchasers in the United States and abroad, refill them with toner, and then resell them at a lower price than the new ones Lexmark puts on the shelves. Not blind to this business problem, Lexmark structures its sales in a way that encourages customers to return spent cartridges. It gives purchasers two options: One is to buy a toner cartridge at full price, with no strings attached. The other is to buy a cartridge at roughly 20 percent off through Lexmark’s “Return Program.” A customer who buys through the Return Program still owns the cartridge but, in exchange for the lower price, signs a contract agreeing to use it only once and to refrain from transferring the empty cartridge to anyone but Lexmark. To enforce this single-use/no-resale restriction, Lexmark installs a microchip on each Return Program cartridge that prevents reuse once the toner in the cartridge runs out.
Lexmark’s strategy just spurred remanufacturers to get more creative. Many kept acquiring empty Return Program cartridges and developed methods to counteract the effect of the microchips. With that technological obstacle out of the way, there was little to prevent the re-manufacturers from using the Return Program cartridges in their resale business. After all, Lexmark’s contractual single-use/no-resale agreements were with the initial customers, not with downstream purchasers like the remanufacturers.
Lexmark, however, was not so ready to concede that its plan had been foiled. In 2010, it sued a number of remanufacturers, including petitioner Impression Products, Inc., for patent infringement with respect to two groups of cartridges. One group consists of Return Program cartridges that Lexmark sold within the United States. Lexmark argued that, because it expressly prohibited reuse and resale of these cartridges, the remanufacturers infringed the Lexmark patents when they refurbished and resold them. The other group consists of all toner cartridges that Lexmark sold abroad and that remanufacturers imported into the country. Lexmark claimed that it never gave anyone authority to import these cartridges, so the remanufacturers ran afoul of its patent rights by doing just that.
Eventually, the lawsuit was whittled down to one defendant, Impression Products, and one defense: that Lexmark’s sales, both in the United States and abroad, exhausted its patent rights in the cartridges, so Impression Products was free to refurbish and resell them, and to import them if acquired abroad. Impression Products filed separate motions to dismiss with respect to both groups of cartridges. The District Court granted the motion as to the domestic Return Program cartridges, but denied the motion as to the cartridges Lexmark sold abroad. Both parties appealed.
The Federal Circuit considered the appeals en banc and ruled for Lexmark with respect to both groups of cartridges. The court began with the Return Program cartridges that Lexmark sold in the United States. Relying on its decision in Mallinckrodt, Inc. v. Medipart, Inc., 976 F. 2d 700 (1992), the Federal Circuit held that a patentee may sell an item and retain the right to enforce, through patent infringement lawsuits, “clearly communicated … lawful restriction[s] as to post-sale use or resale.” The exhaustion doctrine, the court reasoned, derives from the prohibition on making, using, selling, or importing items “without authority.” When you purchase an item you presumptively also acquire the authority to use or resell the item freely, but that is just a presumption; the same authority does not run with the item when the seller restricts post-sale use or resale. Because the parties agreed that Impression Products knew about Lexmark’s restrictions and that those restrictions did not violate any laws, the Federal Circuit concluded that Lexmark’s sales had not exhausted all of its patent rights, and that the company could sue for infringement when Impression Products refurbished and resold Return Program cartridges.
Judge Dyk, joined by Judge Hughes, dissented. In their view, selling the Return Program cartridges in the United States exhausted Lexmark’s patent rights in those items because any “authorized sale of a patented article … free[s] the article from any restrictions on use or sale based on the patent laws.”
[The Court’s discussion of international exhaustion is contained in Section 23.6]
We granted certiorari to consider the Federal Circuit’s decisions … and now reverse.
A
First up are the Return Program cartridges that Lexmark sold in the United States. We conclude that Lexmark exhausted its patent rights in these cartridges the moment it sold them. The single-use/no-resale restrictions in Lexmark’s contracts with customers may have been clear and enforceable under contract law, but they do not entitle Lexmark to retain patent rights in an item that it has elected to sell.
The Patent Act grants patentees the “right to exclude others from making, using, offering for sale, or selling [their] invention[s].” 35 U. S. C. §154(a). For over 160 years, the doctrine of patent exhaustion has imposed a limit on that right to exclude. The limit functions automatically: When a patentee chooses to sell an item, that product “is no longer within the limits of the monopoly” and instead becomes the “private, individual property” of the purchaser, with the rights and benefits that come along with ownership. A patentee is free to set the price and negotiate contracts with purchasers, but may not, “by virtue of his patent, control the use or disposition” of the product after ownership passes to the purchaser. United States v. Univis Lens Co., 316 U. S. 241, 250 (1942). The sale “terminates all patent rights to that item.” Quanta Computer, Inc. v. LG Electronics, Inc., 553 U. S. 617, 625 (2008).
This well-established exhaustion rule marks the point where patent rights yield to the common law principle against restraints on alienation. The Patent Act “promote[s] the progress of science and the useful arts by granting to [inventors] a limited monopoly” that allows them to “secure the financial rewards” for their inventions. But once a patentee sells an item, it has “enjoyed all the rights secured” by that limited monopoly. Keeler v. Standard Folding Bed Co., 157 U. S. 659, 661 (1895). Because “the purpose of the patent law is fulfilled … when the patentee has received his reward for the use of his invention,” that law furnishes “no basis for restraining the use and enjoyment of the thing sold.” Univis, 316 U. S., at 251.
This venerable principle is not, as the Federal Circuit dismissively viewed it, merely “one common-law jurisdiction’s general judicial policy at one time toward anti-alienation restrictions.” Congress enacted and has repeatedly revised the Patent Act against the backdrop of the hostility toward restraints on alienation. That enmity is reflected in the exhaustion doctrine. The patent laws do not include the right to “restrain[] … further alienation” after an initial sale; such conditions have been “hateful to the law from Lord Coke’s day to ours” and are “obnoxious to the public interest.” Straus v. Victor Talking Machine Co., 243 U. S. 490, 501 (1917). “The inconvenience and annoyance to the public that an opposite conclusion would occasion are too obvious to require illustration.” Keeler, 157 U. S., at 667.
But an illustration never hurts. Take a shop that restores and sells used cars. The business works because the shop can rest assured that, so long as those bringing in the cars own them, the shop is free to repair and resell those vehicles. That smooth flow of commerce would sputter if companies that make the thousands of parts that go into a vehicle could keep their patent rights after the first sale. Those companies might, for instance, restrict resale rights and sue the shop owner for patent infringement. And even if they refrained from imposing such restrictions, the very threat of patent liability would force the shop to invest in efforts to protect itself from hidden lawsuits. Either way, extending the patent rights beyond the first sale would clog the channels of commerce, with little benefit from the extra control that the patentees retain. And advances in technology, along with increasingly complex supply chains, magnify the problem.
This Court accordingly has long held that, even when a patentee sells an item under an express restriction, the patentee does not retain patent rights in that product. In Boston Store of Chicago v. American Graphophone Co., for example, a manufacturer sold graphophones—one of the earliest devices for recording and reproducing sounds—to retailers under contracts requiring those stores to resell at a specific price. When the manufacturer brought a patent infringement suit against a retailer who sold for less, we concluded that there was “no room for controversy” about the result: By selling the item, the manufacturer placed it “beyond the confines of the patent law, [and] could not, by qualifying restrictions as to use, keep [it] under the patent monopoly.”
Two decades later, we confronted a similar arrangement in Univis. There, a company that made eyeglass lenses authorized an agent to sell its products to wholesalers and retailers only if they promised to market the lenses at fixed prices. The Government filed an antitrust lawsuit, and the company defended its arrangement on the ground that it was exercising authority under the Patent Act. We held that the initial sales “relinquish[ed] … the patent monopoly with respect to the article[s] sold,” so the “stipulation … fixing resale prices derive[d] no support from the patent and must stand on the same footing” as restrictions on unpatented goods.
It is true that Boston Store and Univis involved resale price restrictions that, at the time of those decisions, violated the antitrust laws. But in both cases it was the sale of the items, rather than the illegality of the restrictions, that prevented the patentees from enforcing those resale price agreements through patent infringement suits. And if there were any lingering doubt that patent exhaustion applies even when a sale is subject to an express, otherwise lawful restriction, our recent decision in Quanta settled the matter. In that case, a technology company—with authorization from the patentee—sold microprocessors under contracts requiring purchasers to use those processors with other parts that the company manufactured. One buyer disregarded the restriction, and the patentee sued for infringement. Without so much as mentioning the lawfulness of the contract, we held that the patentee could not bring an infringement suit because the “authorized sale … took its products outside the scope of the patent monopoly.”
Turning to the case at hand, we conclude that this well-settled line of precedent allows for only one answer: Lexmark cannot bring a patent infringement suit against Impression Products to enforce the single-use/no-resale provision accompanying its Return Program cartridges. Once sold, the Return Program cartridges passed outside of the patent monopoly, and whatever rights Lexmark retained are a matter of the contracts with its purchasers, not the patent law.
The Federal Circuit reached a different result largely because it got off on the wrong foot. The “exhaustion doctrine,” the court believed, “must be understood as an interpretation of” the infringement statute, which prohibits anyone from using or selling a patented article “without authority” from the patentee. Exhaustion reflects a default rule that a patentee’s decision to sell an item “presumptively grant[s] ‘authority’ to the purchaser to use it and resell it.” But, the Federal Circuit explained, the patentee does not have to hand over the full “bundle of rights” every time. If the patentee expressly withholds a stick from the bundle—perhaps by restricting the purchaser’s resale rights—the buyer never acquires that withheld authority, and the patentee may continue to enforce its right to exclude that practice under the patent laws.
The misstep in this logic is that the exhaustion doctrine is not a presumption about the authority that comes along with a sale; it is instead a limit on “the scope of the patentee’s rights.” United States v. General Elec. Co., 272 U. S. 476, 489 (1926). The right to use, sell, or import an item exists independently of the Patent Act. What a patent adds—and grants exclusively to the patentee—is a limited right to prevent others from engaging in those practices. Exhaustion extinguishes that exclusionary power. As a result, the sale transfers the right to use, sell, or import because those are the rights that come along with ownership, and the buyer is free and clear of an infringement lawsuit because there is no exclusionary right left to enforce.
The Federal Circuit also expressed concern that preventing patentees from reserving patent rights when they sell goods would create an artificial distinction between such sales and sales by licensees. Patentees, the court explained, often license others to make and sell their products, and may place restrictions on those licenses. A computer developer could, for instance, license a manufacturer to make its patented devices and sell them only for non-commercial use by individuals. If a licensee breaches the license by selling a computer for commercial use, the patentee can sue the licensee for infringement. And, in the Federal Circuit’s view, our decision in General Talking Pictures Corp. v. Western Elec. Co., 304 U. S. 175 (1938), established that—when a patentee grants a license “under clearly stated restrictions on post-sale activities” of those who purchase products from the licensee—the patentee can also sue for infringement those purchasers who knowingly violate the restrictions. If patentees can employ licenses to impose post-sale restrictions on purchasers that are enforceable through infringement suits, the court concluded, it would make little sense to prevent patentees from doing so when they sell directly to consumers.
The Federal Circuit’s concern is misplaced. A patentee can impose restrictions on licensees because a license does not implicate the same concerns about restraints on alienation as a sale. Patent exhaustion reflects the principle that, when an item passes into commerce, it should not be shaded by a legal cloud on title as it moves through the marketplace. But a license is not about passing title to a product, it is about changing the contours of the patentee’s monopoly: The patentee agrees not to exclude a licensee from making or selling the patented invention, expanding the club of authorized producers and sellers. Because the patentee is exchanging rights, not goods, it is free to relinquish only a portion of its bundle of patent protections.
A patentee’s authority to limit licensees does not, as the Federal Circuit thought, mean that patentees can use licenses to impose post-sale restrictions on purchasers that are enforceable through the patent laws. So long as a licensee complies with the license when selling an item, the patentee has, in effect, authorized the sale. That licensee’s sale is treated, for purposes of patent exhaustion, as if the patentee made the sale itself. The result: The sale exhausts the patentee’s rights in that item. A license may require the licensee to impose a restriction on purchasers, like the license limiting the computer manufacturer to selling for non-commercial use by individuals. But if the licensee does so—by, perhaps, having each customer sign a contract promising not to use the computers in business—the sale nonetheless exhausts all patent rights in the item sold. The purchasers might not comply with the restriction, but the only recourse for the licensee is through contract law, just as if the patentee itself sold the item with a restriction.
General Talking Pictures involved a fundamentally different situation: There, a licensee “knowingly ma[de] … sales … outside the scope of its license.” We treated the sale “as if no license whatsoever had been granted” by the patentee, which meant that the patentee could sue both the licensee and the purchaser—who knew about the breach—for infringement. This does not mean that patentees can use licenses to impose post-sale restraints on purchasers. Quite the contrary: The licensee infringed the patentee’s rights because it did not comply with the terms of its license, and the patentee could bring a patent suit against the purchaser only because the purchaser participated in the licensee’s infringement. General Talking Pictures, then, stands for the modest principle that, if a patentee has not given authority for a licensee to make a sale, that sale cannot exhaust the patentee’s rights.
“if a patentee has not given authority for a licensee to make a sale, that sale cannot exhaust the patentee’s rights”
In sum, patent exhaustion is uniform and automatic. Once a patentee decides to sell—whether on its own or through a licensee—that sale exhausts its patent rights, regardless of any post-sale restrictions the patentee purports to impose, either directly or through a license.
Notes and Questions
1. Post-sale restrictions. Cases like Mallinckrodt and Impression Products revolve around the desire of a patent holder to impose restrictions on users of patented articles after their first sale. As a general matter, why do patent holders wish to impose such restrictions after they have been compensated for the sale of a patented article? Do you think this approach is more common in certain types of industries?
2. Infringement versus breach of contract. In many cases, patent holders who impose post-sale restrictions on purchasers of patented products seek to enforce these restrictions as a matter of patent law (i.e., the user who fails to comply is infringing the patent) rather than as a breach of contract. Why? What role does privity of contract play in this calculation?
3. Choice of defendant. In Mallinckrodt, the patent holder chose to sue the party who sterilized and reconditioned used UltraVent devices rather than the hospitals who used the devices in violation of the single-use restriction. Why? Would there be any advantages to suing the hospitals themselves?
4. The smooth flow of commerce. The Supreme Court in Impression Products reasons that the “smooth flow of commerce would sputter if companies that make the thousands of parts that go into a vehicle could keep their patent rights after the first sale.” What does this mean? Is this conclusion true with respect to all types of products and services, or is it specific to reusable items like printer ink cartridges?
5. The end of post-sale restrictions? Many commentators have questioned whether Quanta, and then Impression Products, effectively overrule Mallinckrodt, thus eliminating a patent holder’s ability to impose post-sale restrictions on patented products as a matter of patent law (i.e., disregarding the purely contractual restrictions discussed in footnote 7 of Quanta). What do you think? Are there any post-sale restrictions that survive Quanta, and then Impression Products? Did Impression Products close any loopholes potentially left open by Quanta?
6. Copyright versus patent. How does the Supreme Court’s reasoning in patent exhaustion cases like Quanta and Impression Products contrast with the lower courts’ treatment of copyrighted works under cases such as Bobbs-Merrill and Vernor? Is the difference more about copyright versus patent law, or about the unusual evolution of the software distribution market?
23.6 International First Sale, Exhaustion and Gray Markets
In the cases discussed so far, we have largely focused on patents and sales of patented products in the United States. As they usually do, things become more complicated once we introduce the international distribution of products into the mix. Yet, given the global nature of many product markets – from tennis shoes and designer handbags to films and recorded music to smartphones and microchips, a consideration of international issues is unavoidable in any conscientious treatment of exhaustion issues. International issues can arise with respect to all types of IP. In this chapter we will consider cases (one of which you have seen before) that have defined the law in this area.
23.6.1 International First Sale and Copyrights
568 U.S. 519 (2013)
BREYER, JUSTICE
Section 106 of the Copyright Act grants “the owner of copyright under this title” certain “exclusive rights,” including the right “to distribute copies … of the copyrighted work to the public by sale or other transfer of ownership.” 17 U. S. C. §106(3). These rights are qualified, however, by the application of various limitations [including] the “first sale” doctrine (§109).
Section 109(a) sets forth the “first sale” doctrine as follows:
Notwithstanding the provisions of section 106(3) [the section that grants the owner exclusive distribution rights], the owner of a particular copy or phonorecord lawfully made under this title … is entitled, without the authority of the copyright owner, to sell or otherwise dispose of the possession of that copy or phonorecord. (Emphasis added.)
Thus, even though §106(3) forbids distribution of a copy of, say, the copyrighted novel Herzog without the copyright owner’s permission, §109(a) adds that, once a copy of Herzog has been lawfully sold (or its ownership otherwise lawfully transferred), the buyer of that copy and subsequent owners are free to dispose of it as they wish. In copyright jargon, the “first sale” has “exhausted” the copyright owner’s §106(3) exclusive distribution right.
What, however, if the copy of Herzog was printed abroad and then initially sold with the copyright owner’s permission? Does the “first sale” doctrine still apply? Is the buyer, like the buyer of a domestically manufactured copy, free to bring the copy into the United States and dispose of it as he or she wishes?
To put the matter technically, an “importation” provision, §602(a)(1), says that
“[i]mportation into the United States, without the authority of the owner of copyright under this title, of copies … of a work that have been acquired outside the United States is an infringement of the exclusive right to distribute copies … under section 106 … .” 17 U. S. C. §602(a)(1) (emphasis added).
Thus §602(a)(1) makes clear that importing a copy without permission violates the owner’s exclusive distribution right. But in doing so, §602(a)(1) refers explicitly to the §106(3) exclusive distribution right. As we have just said, §106 is by its terms “[s]ubject to” … §109(a)’s “first sale” limitation. Do those same modifications apply—in particular, does the “first sale” modification apply—when considering whether §602(a)(1) prohibits importing a copy?
In Quality King Distributors, Inc. v. L’anza Research Int’l, Inc., 523 U. S. 135, 145 (1998), we held that §602(a)(1)’s reference to §106(3)’s exclusive distribution right incorporates the later subsections’ limitations, including, in particular, the “first sale” doctrine of §109. Thus, it might seem that, §602(a)(1) notwithstanding, one who buys a copy abroad can freely import that copy into the United States and dispose of it, just as he could had he bought the copy in the United States.
But Quality King considered an instance in which the copy, though purchased abroad, was initially manufactured in the United States (and then sent abroad and sold). This case is like Quality King but for one important fact. The copies at issue here were manufactured abroad. That fact is important because §109(a) says that the “first sale” doctrine applies to “a particular copy or phonorecord lawfully made under this title.” And we must decide here whether the five words, “lawfully made under this title,” make a critical legal difference.
Putting section numbers to the side, we ask whether the “first sale” doctrine applies to protect a buyer or other lawful owner of a copy (of a copyrighted work) lawfully manufactured abroad. Can that buyer bring that copy into the United States (and sell it or give it away) without obtaining permission to do so from the copyright owner? Can, for example, someone who purchases, say at a used bookstore, a book printed abroad subsequently resell it without the copyright owner’s permission?
In our view, the answers to these questions are, yes. We hold that the “first sale” doctrine applies to copies of a copyrighted work lawfully made abroad.
A
Respondent, John Wiley & Sons, Inc., publishes academic textbooks. Wiley obtains from its authors various foreign and domestic copyright assignments, licenses and permissions—to the point that we can, for present purposes, refer to Wiley as the relevant American copyright owner. Wiley often assigns to its wholly owned foreign subsidiary, John Wiley & Sons (Asia) Pte Ltd., rights to publish, print, and sell Wiley’s English language textbooks abroad. Each copy of a Wiley Asia foreign edition will likely contain language making clear that the copy is to be sold only in a particular country or geographical region outside the United States.
For example, a copy of Wiley’s American edition says, “Copyright © 2008 John Wiley & Sons, Inc. All rights reserved … Printed in the United States of America.” A copy of Wiley Asia’s Asian edition of that book says:
Copyright © 2008 John Wiley & Sons (Asia) Pte Ltd[.] All rights reserved. This book is authorized for sale in Europe, Asia, Africa, and the Middle East only and may be not exported out of these territories. Exportation from or importation of this book to another region without the Publisher’s authorization is illegal and is a violation of the Publisher’s rights. The Publisher may take legal action to enforce its rights … Printed in Asia.
Both the foreign and the American copies say:
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means … except as permitted under Sections 107 or 108 of the 1976 United States Copyright Act.
The upshot is that there are two essentially equivalent versions of a Wiley textbook, each version manufactured and sold with Wiley’s permission: (1) an American version printed and sold in the United States, and (2) a foreign version manufactured and sold abroad. And Wiley makes certain that copies of the second version state that they are not to be taken (without permission) into the United States.
Petitioner, Supap Kirtsaeng, a citizen of Thailand, moved to the United States in 1997 to study mathematics at Cornell University. He paid for his education with the help of a Thai Government scholarship which required him to teach in Thailand for 10 years on his return. Kirtsaeng successfully completed his undergraduate courses at Cornell, successfully completed a Ph.D program in mathematics at the University of Southern California, and then, as promised, returned to Thailand to teach. While he was studying in the United States, Kirtsaeng asked his friends and family in Thailand to buy copies of foreign edition English-language textbooks at Thai book shops, where they sold at low prices, and mail them to him in the United States. Kirtsaeng would then sell them, reimburse his family and friends, and keep the profit.
In 2008 Wiley brought this federal lawsuit against Kirtsaeng for copyright infringement. Wiley claimed that Kirtsaeng’s unauthorized importation of its books and his later resale of those books amounted to an infringement of Wiley’s §106(3) exclusive right to distribute as well as §602’s related import prohibition. Kirtsaeng replied that the books he had acquired were “‘lawfully made’” and that he had acquired them legitimately. Thus, in his view, §109(a)’s “first sale” doctrine permitted him to resell or otherwise dispose of the books without the copyright owner’s further permission.
The District Court held that Kirtsaeng could not assert the “first sale” defense because, in its view, that doctrine does not apply to “foreign-manufactured goods” (even if made abroad with the copyright owner’s permission). The jury then found that Kirtsaeng had willfully infringed Wiley’s American copyrights by selling and importing without authorization copies of eight of Wiley’s copyrighted titles. And it assessed statutory damages of $600,000 ($75,000 per work).
On appeal, a split panel of the Second Circuit agreed with the District Court. It pointed out that §109(a)’s “first sale” doctrine applies only to “the owner of a particular copy … lawfully made under this title.” (emphasis added). And, in the majority’s view, this language means that the “first sale” doctrine does not apply to copies of American copyrighted works manufactured abroad.
We granted Kirtsaeng’s petition for certiorari to consider this question in light of different views among the Circuits.
We must decide whether the words “lawfully made under this title” restrict the scope of §109(a)’s “first sale” doctrine geographically. The Second Circuit, the Ninth Circuit, Wiley, and the Solicitor General (as amicus) all read those words as imposing a form of geographical limitation. The Second Circuit held that they limit the “first sale” doctrine to particular copies “made in territories in which the Copyright Act is law,” which (the Circuit says) are copies “manufactured domestically,” not “outside of the United States.” Wiley agrees that those five words limit the “first sale” doctrine “to copies made in conformance with the [United States] Copyright Act where the Copyright Act is applicable,” which (Wiley says) means it does not apply to copies made “outside the United States” and at least not to “foreign production of a copy for distribution exclusively abroad.” Similarly, the Solicitor General says that those five words limit the “first sale” doctrine’s applicability to copies “‘made subject to and in compliance with [the Copyright Act],’” which (the Solicitor General says) are copies “made in the United States.” And the Ninth Circuit has held that those words limit the “first sale” doctrine’s applicability (1) to copies lawfully made in the United States, and (2) to copies lawfully made outside the United States but initially sold in the United States with the copyright owner’s permission.
Under any of these geographical interpretations, §109(a)’s “first sale” doctrine would not apply to the Wiley Asia books at issue here. And, despite an American copyright owner’s permission to make copies abroad, one who buys a copy of any such book or other copyrighted work—whether at a retail store, over the Internet, or at a library sale—could not resell (or otherwise dispose of) that particular copy without further permission.
Kirtsaeng, however, reads the words “lawfully made under this title” as imposing a non-geographical limitation. He says that they mean made “in accordance with” or “in compliance with” the Copyright Act. In that case, §109(a)’s “first sale” doctrine would apply to copyrighted works as long as their manufacture met the requirements of American copyright law. In particular, the doctrine would apply where, as here, copies are manufactured abroad with the permission of the copyright owner.
In our view, §109(a)’s language, its context, and the common-law history of the “first sale” doctrine, taken together, favor a non-geographical interpretation. We also doubt that Congress would have intended to create the practical copyright-related harms with which a geographical interpretation would threaten ordinary scholarly, artistic, commercial, and consumer activities. See Part II–D, infra. We consequently conclude that Kirtsaeng’s nongeographical reading is the better reading of the Act.
B [W]e normally presume that the words “lawfully made under this title” carry the same meaning when they appear in different but related sections. But doing so here produces surprising consequences. Consider:
(1) Section 109(c) says that, despite the copyright owner’s exclusive right “to display” a copyrighted work (provided in §106(5)), the owner of a particular copy “lawfully made under this title” may publicly display it without further authorization. To interpret these words geographically would mean that one who buys a copyrighted work of art, a poster, or even a bumper sticker, in Canada, in Europe, in Asia, could not display it in America without the copyright owner’s further authorization.
(2) Section 109(e) specifically provides that the owner of a particular copy of a copyrighted video arcade game “lawfully made under this title” may “publicly perform or display that game in coin-operated equipment” without the authorization of the copyright owner. To interpret these words geographically means that an arcade owner could not (“without the authority of the copyright owner”) perform or display arcade games (whether new or used) originally made in Japan.
(3) Section 110(1) says that a teacher, without the copyright owner’s authorization, is allowed to perform or display a copyrighted work (say, an audiovisual work) “in the course of face-to-face teaching activities”—unless the teacher knowingly used “a copy that was not lawfully made under this title.” To interpret these words geographically would mean that the teacher could not (without further authorization) use a copy of a film during class if the copy was lawfully made in Canada, Mexico, Europe, Africa, or Asia.
A relevant canon of statutory interpretation favors a nongeographical reading. “[W]hen a statute covers an issue previously governed by the common law,” we must presume that “Congress intended to retain the substance of the common law.”
The “first sale” doctrine is a common-law doctrine with an impeccable historic pedigree. In the early 17th century Lord Coke explained the common law’s refusal to permit restraints on the alienation of chattels: A law that permits a copyright holder to control the resale or other disposition of a chattel once sold is … “against Trade and Traffi[c], and bargaining and contracting.”
With these last few words, Coke emphasizes the importance of leaving buyers of goods free to compete with each other when reselling or otherwise disposing of those goods. American law too has generally thought that competition, including freedom to resell, can work to the advantage of the consumer.
The “first sale” doctrine also frees courts from the administrative burden of trying to enforce restrictions upon difficult-to-trace, readily movable goods. And it avoids the selective enforcement inherent in any such effort. Thus, it is not surprising that for at least a century the “first sale” doctrine has played an important role in American copyright law. See Bobbs-Merrill Co. v. Straus, 210 U. S. 339 (1908).
The common-law doctrine makes no geographical distinctions; nor can we find any in Bobbs-Merrill (where this Court first applied the “first sale” doctrine) or in §109(a)’s predecessor provision, which Congress enacted a year later. Rather, as the Solicitor General acknowledges, a straightforward application of Bobbs-Merrill would not preclude the “first sale” defense from applying to authorized copies made overseas. And we can find no language, context, purpose, or history that would rebut a “straightforward application” of that doctrine here.
Associations of libraries, used-book dealers, technology companies, consumer-goods retailers, and museums point to various ways in which a geographical interpretation would fail to further basic constitutional copyright objectives, in particular “promot[ing] the Progress of Science and useful Arts.” U. S. Const., Art. I, §8, cl. 8.
The American Library Association tells us that library collections contain at least 200 million books published abroad; that many others were first published in the United States but printed abroad because of lower costs; and that a geographical interpretation will likely require the libraries to obtain permission (or at least create significant uncertainty) before circulating or otherwise distributing these books.
How, the American Library Association asks, are the libraries to obtain permission to distribute these millions of books? How can they find, say, the copyright owner of a foreign book, perhaps written decades ago? They may not know the copyright holder’s present address. And, even where addresses can be found, the costs of finding them, contacting owners, and negotiating may be high indeed. Are the libraries to stop circulating or distributing or displaying the millions of books in their collections that were printed abroad?
Used-book dealers tell us that, from the time when Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson built commercial and personal libraries of foreign books, American readers have bought used books published and printed abroad. The dealers say that they have “operat[ed] … for centuries” under the assumption that the “first sale” doctrine applies. But under a geographical interpretation a contemporary tourist who buys, say, at Shakespeare and Co. (in Paris), a dozen copies of a foreign book for American friends might find that she had violated the copyright law. The used-book dealers cannot easily predict what the foreign copyright holder may think about a reader’s effort to sell a used copy of a novel. And they believe that a geographical interpretation will injure a large portion of the used-book business.
Technology companies tell us that “automobiles, microwaves, calculators, mobile phones, tablets, and personal computers” contain copyrightable software programs or packaging. Many of these items are made abroad with the American copyright holder’s permission and then sold and imported (with that permission) to the United States. A geographical interpretation would prevent the resale of, say, a car, without the permission of the holder of each copyright on each piece of copyrighted automobile software. Yet there is no reason to believe that foreign auto manufacturers regularly obtain this kind of permission from their software component suppliers, and Wiley did not indicate to the contrary when asked. Without that permission a foreign car owner could not sell his or her used car.
Retailers tell us that over $2.3 trillion worth of foreign goods were imported in 2011. American retailers buy many of these goods after a first sale abroad. And, many of these items bear, carry, or contain copyrighted “packaging, logos, labels, and product inserts and instructions for [the use of] everyday packaged goods from floor cleaners and health and beauty products to breakfast cereals.” The retailers add that American sales of more traditional copyrighted works, “such as books, recorded music, motion pictures, and magazines” likely amount to over $220 billion. A geographical interpretation would subject many, if not all, of them to the disruptive impact of the threat of infringement suits.
Art museum directors ask us to consider their efforts to display foreign-produced works by, say, Cy Twombly, René Magritte, Henri Matisse, Pablo Picasso, and others. A geographical interpretation, they say, would require the museums to obtain permission from the copyright owners before they could display the work—even if the copyright owner has already sold or donated the work to a foreign museum. What are the museums to do, they ask, if the artist retained the copyright, if the artist cannot be found, or if a group of heirs is arguing about who owns which copyright?
Neither Wiley nor any of its many amici deny that a geographical interpretation could bring about these “horribles”—at least in principle. Rather, Wiley essentially says that the list is artificially invented. It points out that a federal court first adopted a geographical interpretation more than 30 years ago. Yet, it adds, these problems have not occurred. Why not? Because, says Wiley, the problems and threats are purely theoretical; they are unlikely to reflect reality.
[T]he fact that harm has proved limited so far may simply reflect the reluctance of copyright holders so far to assert geographically based resale rights. They may decide differently if the law is clarified in their favor. Regardless, a copyright law that can work in practice only if unenforced is not a sound copyright law. It is a law that would create uncertainty, would bring about selective enforcement, and, if widely unenforced, would breed disrespect for copyright law itself.
Thus, we believe that the practical problems that petitioner and his amici have described are too serious, too extensive, and too likely to come about for us to dismiss them as insignificant—particularly in light of the ever-growing importance of foreign trade to America. The upshot is that copyright-related consequences along with language, context, and interpretive canons argue strongly against a geographical interpretation of §109(a).
For these reasons we conclude that the considerations supporting Kirtsaeng’s nongeographical interpretation of the words “lawfully made under this title” are the more persuasive. The judgment of the Court of Appeals is reversed, and the case is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.
Notes and Questions
1. Statutory interpretation. Justice Breyer’s analysis in Kirtsaeng focuses in excruciating detail on the language of Section 109(a) of the Copyright Act – the statutory codification of the first sale doctrine. Yet Chief Justice Roberts hardly considers statutory language at all in Impression Products. Why is there such a difference in approach as between copyright and patent law with respect to international exhaustion?
23.6.2 International Patent Exhaustion
137 S. Ct. 1523 (2017)
ROBERTS, CHIEF JUSTICE
[The case background and a discussion of exhaustion, generally, are contained in Section 23.5.]
Our conclusion that Lexmark exhausted its patent rights when it sold the domestic Return Program cartridges goes only halfway to resolving this case. Lexmark also sold toner cartridges abroad and sued Impression Products for patent infringement for “importing [Lexmark’s]invention into the United States.” 35 U. S. C. §154(a). Lexmark contends that it may sue for infringement with respect to all of the imported cartridges—not just those in the Return Program—because a foreign sale does not trigger patent exhaustion unless the patentee “expressly or implicitly transfer[s] or license[s]” its rights. The Federal Circuit agreed, but we do not. An authorized sale outside the United States, just as one within the United States, exhausts all rights under the Patent Act. This question about international exhaustion of intellectual property rights has also arisen in the context of copyright law. Under the “first sale doctrine,” which is codified at 17 U. S. C. §109(a), when a copyright owner sells a lawfully made copy of its work, it loses the power to restrict the purchaser’s freedom “to sell or otherwise dispose of … that copy.” In Kirtsaeng v. John Wiley & Sons, Inc., we held that this “‘first sale’ [rule] applies to copies of a copyrighted work lawfully made [and sold] abroad.” We began with the text of §109(a), but it was not decisive: The language neither “restrict[s] the scope of [the] ‘first sale’ doctrine geographically,” nor clearly embraces international exhaustion. What helped tip the scales for global exhaustion was the fact that the first sale doctrine originated in the common law’s refusal to permit restraints on the alienation of chattels. That common-law doctrine makes no geographical distinctions. The lack of any textual basis for distinguishing between domestic and international sales meant that “a straightforward application” of the first sale doctrine required the conclusion that it applies overseas.
Applying patent exhaustion to foreign sales is just as straightforward. Patent exhaustion, too, has its roots in the antipathy toward restraints on alienation, and nothing in the text or history of the Patent Act shows that Congress intended to confine that borderless common law principle to domestic sales. In fact, Congress has not altered patent exhaustion at all; it remains an unwritten limit on the scope of the patentee’s monopoly. And differentiating the patent exhaustion and copyright first sale doctrines would make little theoretical or practical sense: The two share a “strong similarity … and identity of purpose,” and many everyday products—“automobiles, microwaves, calculators, mobile phones, tablets, and personal computers”—are subject to both patent and copyright protections, see Kirtsaeng, 568 U.S., at 545. There is a “historic kinship between patent law and copyright law,” and the bond between the two leaves no room for a rift on the question of international exhaustion.
Lexmark sees the matter differently. The Patent Act, it points out, limits the patentee’s “right to exclude others” from making, using, selling, or importing its products to acts that occur in the United States. 35 U. S. C. §154(a). A domestic sale, it argues, triggers exhaustion because the sale compensates the patentee for “surrendering [those] U. S. rights.” A foreign sale is different: The Patent Act does not give patentees exclusionary powers abroad. Without those powers, a patentee selling in a foreign market may not be able to sell its product for the same price that it could in the United States, and therefore is not sure to receive “the reward guaranteed by U. S. patent law.” Absent that reward, says Lexmark, there should be no exhaustion. In short, there is no patent exhaustion from sales abroad because there are no patent rights abroad to exhaust.
The territorial limit on patent rights is, however, no basis for distinguishing copyright protections; those protections “do not have any extraterritorial operation” either. Nor does the territorial limit support the premise of Lexmark’s argument. Exhaustion is a separate limit on the patent grant, and does not depend on the patentee receiving some undefined premium for selling the right to access the American market. A purchaser buys an item, not patent rights. And exhaustion is triggered by the patentee’s decision to give that item up and receive whatever fee it decides is appropriate “for the article and the invention which it embodies.” Univis, 316 U. S., at 251. The patentee may not be able to command the same amount for its products abroad as it does in the United States. But the Patent Act does not guarantee a particular price, much less the price from selling to American consumers. Instead, the right to exclude just ensures that the patentee receives one reward—of whatever amount the patentee deems to be “satisfactory compensation,” Keeler, 157 U. S., at 661—for every item that passes outside the scope of the patent monopoly.
This Court has addressed international patent exhaustion in only one case, Boesch v. Gräff, decided over 125 years ago. All that case illustrates is that a sale abroad does not exhaust a patentee’s rights when the patentee had nothing to do with the transaction. Boesch—from the days before the widespread adoption of electrical lighting—involved a retailer who purchased lamp burners from a manufacturer in Germany, with plans to sell them in the United States. The manufacturer had authority to make the burners under German law, but there was a hitch: Two individuals with no ties to the German manufacturer held the American patent to that invention. These patentees sued the retailer for infringement when the retailer imported the lamp burners into the United States, and we rejected the argument that the German manufacturer’s sale had exhausted the American patentees’ rights. The German manufacturer had no permission to sell in the United States from the American patentees, and the American patentees had not exhausted their patent rights in the products because they had not sold them to anyone, so “purchasers from [the German manufacturer] could not be thereby authorized to sell the articles in the United States.” 133 U. S. 697, 703 (1890).
Our decision did not, as Lexmark contends, exempt all foreign sales from patent exhaustion. Rather, it reaffirmed the basic premise that only the patentee can decide whether to make a sale that exhausts its patent rights in an item. The American patentees did not do so with respect to the German products, so the German sales did not exhaust their rights.
Finally, the United States, as an amicus, advocates what it views as a middle-ground position: that “a foreign sale authorized by the U. S. patentee exhausts U. S. patent rights unless those rights are expressly reserved.” Its position is largely based on policy rather than principle. The Government thinks that an overseas “buyer’s legitimate expectation” is that a “sale conveys all of the seller’s interest in the patented article,” so the presumption should be that a foreign sale triggers exhaustion. But, at the same time, lower courts long ago coalesced around the rule that “a patentee’s express reservation of U.S. patent rights at the time of a foreign sale will be given effect,” so that option should remain open to the patentee.
The theory behind the Government’s express-reservation rule also wrongly focuses on the likely expectations of the patentee and purchaser during a sale. Exhaustion does not arise because of the parties’ expectations about how sales transfer patent rights. More is at stake when it comes to patents than simply the dealings between the parties, which can be addressed through contract law. Instead, exhaustion occurs because, in a sale, the patentee elects to give up title to an item in exchange for payment. Allowing patent rights to stick remora-like to that item as it flows through the market would violate the principle against restraints on alienation. Exhaustion does not depend on whether the patentee receives a premium for selling in the United States, or the type of rights that buyers expect to receive. As a result, restrictions and location are irrelevant; what matters is the patentee’s decision to make a sale.
The judgment of the United States Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit is reversed, and the case is remanded for further proceedings consistent with this opinion.
It is so ordered.
JUSTICE GINSBURG, concurring in part and dissenting in part.
I concur in the Court’s holding regarding domestic exhaustion—a patentee who sells a product with an express restriction on reuse or resale may not enforce that restriction through an infringement lawsuit, because the U.S. sale exhausts the U.S. patent rights in the product sold. I dissent, however, from the Court’s holding on international exhaustion. A foreign sale, I would hold, does not exhaust a U.S. inventor’s U.S. patent rights. Patent law is territorial. When an inventor receives a U.S. patent, that patent provides no protection abroad. A U.S. patentee must apply to each country in which she seeks the exclusive right to sell her invention.
Because a sale abroad operates independently of the U.S. patent system, it makes little sense to say that such a sale exhausts an inventor’s U.S. patent rights. U.S. patent protection accompanies none of a U.S. patentee’s sales abroad—a competitor could sell the same patented product abroad with no U.S.-patent-law consequence. Accordingly, the foreign sale should not diminish the protections of U.S. law in the United States.
The majority disagrees, in part because this Court decided, in Kirtsaeng v. John Wiley & Sons, Inc., 568 U. S. 519, 525 (2013), that a foreign sale exhausts U. S. copyright protections. Copyright and patent exhaustion, the majority states, “share a strong similarity.” I dissented from our decision in Kirtsaeng and adhere to the view that a foreign sale should not exhaust U.S. copyright protections.
But even if I subscribed to Kirtsaeng’s reasoning with respect to copyright, that decision should bear little weight in the patent context. Although there may be a “historical kinship” between patent law and copyright law, the two “are not identical twins”. The Patent Act contains no analogue to 17 U.S.C. §109(a), the Copyright Act first-sale provision analyzed in Kirtsaeng. More importantly, copyright protections, unlike patent protections, are harmonized across countries. Under the Berne Convention, which 174 countries have joined, members “agree to treat authors from other member countries as well as they treat their own.” The copyright protections one receives abroad are thus likely to be similar to those received at home, even if provided under each country’s separate copyright regime.
For these reasons, I would affirm the Federal Circuit’s judgment with respect to foreign exhaustion.
Notes and Questions
1. Copyright versus patent. Despite the difference in approach discussed in Note 1, Chief Justice Roberts relies in his reasoning in Impression Products on the “historical kinship” between patent law and copyright law. Justice Ginsburg, dissenting, argues that the two “are not identical twins.” What is the crux of this disagreement between the justices? Which view of the relationship between patent and copyright law do you consider to be stronger?
23.6.3 International Trademark Exhaustion and the Gray Market
As discussed in Section 23.3, “genuine” trademarked goods may be resold without the authorization of the trademark owner. This is also the case internationally. An overseas purchaser of an authorized marked product may import it into the United States so long as the foreign product is “genuine,” or manufactured under authority of the mark owner. Take the example of Nike athletic shoes. Nike may authorize a manufacturer in Thailand to manufacture a particular type of branded shoe. Under its contract with Nike, the Thai manufacturer may then sell those shoes for $20 per pair to Nike’s authorized wholesalers, who distribute them to retailers in the United States who sell them to consumers for $150 per pair. But suppose that the Thai manufacturer makes a few extra shoes and sells them at $30 per pair to discount Nike retailers in the United States, who then sell them to consumers for $50 per pair? It is possible that the Thai manufacturer is violating its contract with Nike, but can Nike prevent the sale of the shoes by the discount retailers in the United States under trademark law if they are the exact same shoes that authorized resellers are selling for $150? This scenario illustrates what is called the “gray market” for trademarked goods.
You will note the similarities in this scenario to those described in Kirtsaeng and Impression Products. Yet trademark law was the first place in which international exhaustion was recognized – long before the Supreme Court intervened in the copyright and patent areas.
The key question in international trademark exhaustion casesFootnote 11 is whether the imported goods are, in fact, “genuine,” as trademark law does not extend to the sale of genuine goods. But as the Third Circuit explained in Iberia Foods Corp. v. Romeo, 150 F.3d 298, 303 (3d Cir. 1998), where imported goods are marketed under identical marks but are materially different, the alleged infringer’s goods are considered “non-genuine” and the sale of the goods constitutes infringement. This leads, naturally, to the question of what constitutes a “material difference” for purposes of international trademark exhaustion. The question has attracted significant attention and is addressed in detail in the following case.
982 F.2d 633 (1st Cir. 1992)
SELYA, CIRCUIT JUDGE
This bittersweet appeal requires us to address the protection that trademark law affords a registrant against the importation and sale of so-called “gray goods,” that is, trademarked goods manufactured abroad under a valid license but brought into this country in derogation of arrangements lawfully made by the trademark holder to ensure territorial exclusivity. As we explain below, the scope of protection turns on the degree of difference between the product authorized for the domestic market and the allegedly infringing product. In the case before us, the difference is sufficiently marked that the domestic product warrants protection.
Background
PERUGINA chocolates originated in Italy and continue to be manufactured there. They are sold throughout the world and cater to a sophisticated consumer, a refined palate, and an indulgent budget. Societe Des Produits Nestle, S.A. (Nestle S.P.N.) owns the PERUGINA trademark.
For many years, defendant-appellee Casa Helvetia, Inc. was the authorized distributor of PERUGINA chocolates in Puerto Rico. On November 28, 1988, however, Nestle S.P.N. forsook Casa Helvetia and licensed its affiliate, Nestle Puerto Rico, Inc. (Nestle P.R.), as the exclusive Puerto Rican distributor.
At this point, the plot thickened. Nestle S.P.N. had previously licensed an independent company, Distribuidora Nacional de Alimentos La Universal S.A. (Alimentos), to manufacture and sell chocolates bearing the PERUGINA mark in Venezuela. The Venezuelan sweets differ from the Italian sweets in presentation, variety, composition, and price. In March 1990, without obtaining Nestle S.P.N.’s consent, Casa Helvetia began to purchase the Venezuelan-made chocolates through a middleman, import them into Puerto Rico, and distribute them under the PERUGINA mark.
This maneuver drew a swift response. Charging that Casa Helvetia’s marketing of the Venezuelan candies infringed both Nestle S.P.N.’s registered trademark and Nestle P.R.’s right of exclusive distributorship, Nestle S.P.N. and Nestle P.R. (hereinafter collectively “Nestle”) sued under the Lanham Act. They claimed that Casa Helvetia’s use of the PERUGINA label was “likely to confuse consumers into the mistaken belief that the Venezuelan chocolates are the same as the Italian chocolates and are authorized by Nestle for sale in Puerto Rico.” And, they asserted that, because the PERUGINA name in Puerto Rico is associated with Italian-made chocolates, the importation of materially different Venezuelan chocolates threatened to erode “the integrity of the PERUGINA trademarks as symbols of consistent quality and goodwill in Puerto Rico.”
The district court consolidated the hearing on preliminary injunction with the hearing on the merits, and, after taking testimony, ruled in the defendants’ favor. It held that the differences between the Italian-made and Venezuelan-made candies did not warrant injunctive relief in the absence of demonstrated consumer dissatisfaction, harm to plaintiffs’ good will, or drop-off in product quality. This appeal followed.
The Lanham Act Claims
Two amaranthine principles fuel the Lanham Act. One aims at protecting consumers. The other focuses on protecting registrants and their assignees. These interlocking principles, in turn, are linked to a concept of territorial exclusivity.
1. Animating Principles. Every product is composed of a bundle of special characteristics. The consumer who purchases what he believes is the same product expects to receive those special characteristics on every occasion. Congress enacted the Lanham Act to realize this expectation with regard to goods bearing a particular trademark. The Act’s prophylaxis operates not only in the more obvious cases, involving the sale of inferior goods in derogation of the registrant’s mark, but also in the less obvious cases, involving the sale of goods different from, although not necessarily inferior to, the goods that the customer expected to receive. By guaranteeing consistency, a trademark wards off both consumer confusion and possible deceit.
The system also serves another, equally important, purpose by protecting the trademark owner’s goodwill. Once again, this protection comprises more than merely stopping the sale of inferior goods. Even if an infringer creates a product that rivals or exceeds the quality of the registrant’s product, the wrongful sale of the unauthorized product may still deprive the registrant of his ability to shape the contours of his reputation.
2. Territoriality. In general, trademark rights are congruent with the boundaries of the sovereign that registers (or recognizes) the mark. Such territoriality reinforces the basic goals of trademark law. Because products are often tailored to specific national conditions, see Lever Bros. Co. v. United States, 877 F.2d 101, 108 (D.C. Cir. 1989), a trademark’s reputation (and, hence, its goodwill) often differs from nation to nation. Because that is so, the importation of goods properly trademarked abroad but not intended for sale locally may confuse consumers and may well threaten the local mark owner’s goodwill. It is not surprising, then, that the United States Supreme Court long ago recognized the territoriality of trademark rights.
Of course, territoriality only goes so far. By and large, courts do not read [prior cases] to disallow the lawful importation of identical foreign goods carrying a valid foreign trademark. See, e.g., NEC Elecs., Inc. v. Cal Circuit Abco, 810 F.2d 1506 (9th Cir.), cert. denied, 484 U.S. 851 (1987). Be that as it may, territorial protection kicks in under the Lanham Act where two merchants sell physically different products in the same market and under the same name, for it is this prototype that impinges on a trademark holder’s goodwill and threatens to deceive consumers. Indeed, without such territorial trademark protection, competitors purveying country-specific products could exploit consumer confusion and free ride on the goodwill of domestic trademarks with impunity. Such a scenario would frustrate the underlying goals of the Lanham Act, the “plain language and general sweep” of which “undeniably bespeak an intention to protect domestic trademark holders.” Lever Bros., 877 F.2d at 105. Thus, where material differences exist between similarly marked goods, the Lanham Act honors the important linkage between trademark law and geography.
In this case … liability necessarily turns on the existence vel non of material differences between the products of a sort likely to create consumer confusion. Because the presence or absence of a material difference – a difference likely to cause consumer confusion – is the pivotal determinant of Lanham Act infringement in a gray goods case, the lower court’s insistence on several other evidentiary showings was inappropriate.
The Materiality Threshold
When a trial court misperceives and misapplies the law, remand may or may not be essential. Here, a final judgment under the correct rule of law requires only the determination of whether reported differences between the Venezuelan and Italian products are material. It follows, then, that we must examine the legal standard for materiality before deciding whether to remand.
Under the Lanham Act, only those appropriations of a mark that are likely to cause confusion are prohibited. Ergo, when a product identical to a domestic product is imported into the United States under the same mark, no violation of the Lanham Act occurs. In such a situation, consumers get exactly the bundle of characteristics that they associate with the mark and the domestic distributor can be said to enjoy in large measure his investment in goodwill. By the same token, using the same mark on two blatantly different products normally does not offend the Lanham Act, for such use is unlikely to cause confusion and is, therefore, unlikely to imperil the goodwill of either product.
The probability of confusion is great, however, when the same mark is displayed on goods that are not identical but that nonetheless bear strong similarities in appearance or function. Gray goods often fall within this category. Thus, when dealing with the importation of gray goods, a reviewing court must necessarily be concerned with subtle differences, for it is by subtle differences that consumers are most easily confused. For that reason, the threshold of materiality must be kept low enough to take account of potentially confusing differences – differences that are not blatant enough to make it obvious to the average consumer that the origin of the product differs from his or her expectations.
There is no mechanical way to determine the point at which a difference becomes “material.” Separating wheat from chaff must be done on a case-by-case basis. Bearing in mind the policies and provisions of the Lanham Act as they apply to gray goods, we can confidently say that the threshold of materiality is always quite low in such cases. See Lever Bros., 877 F.2d at 103, 108 (finding minor differences in ingredients and packaging between versions of deodorant soap to be material); Ferrero, 753 F. Supp. at 1241–49, 1247 (finding a one-half calorie difference in chemical composition of breath mints, coupled with slight differences in packaging and labeling, to be material); PepsiCo Inc. v. Nostalgia, 18 U.S.P.Q.2D (BNA) at 1405 (finding “differences in labeling, packaging and marketing methods” to be material); PepsiCo v. Giraud, 7 U.S.P.Q.2D (BNA) at 1373 (finding differences not readily apparent to the consumer – container volume, packaging, quality control, and advertising participation – to be material); Dial Corp., 643 F. Supp. at 952 (finding differences in formulation and packaging of soap products to be material).
We conclude that the existence of any difference between the registrant’s product and the allegedly infringing gray good that consumers would likely consider to be relevant when purchasing a product creates a presumption of consumer confusion sufficient to support a Lanham Act claim. Any higher threshold would endanger a manufacturer’s investment in product goodwill and unduly subject consumers to potential confusion by severing the tie between a manufacturer’s protected mark and its associated bundle of traits.
The alleged infringer, of course, may attempt to rebut this presumption, but in order to do so he must be able to prove by preponderant evidence that the differences are not of the kind that consumers, on average, would likely consider in purchasing the product.
“the existence of any difference between the registrant's product and the allegedly infringing gray good that consumers would likely consider to be relevant when purchasing a product creates a presumption of consumer confusion sufficient to support a Lanham Act claim.”
The alleged infringer, of course, may attempt to rebut this presumption, but in order to do so he must be able to prove by preponderant evidence that the differences are not of the kind that consumers, on average, would likely consider in purchasing the product.
Materiality in This Case
Having fashioned the standard of materiality and examined the record in light of that standard, we are drawn to the conclusion that remand is not required. The district court determined that the products are different but that the differences are not material. Although this determination is tainted by a misunderstanding of the applicable legal principles, the court’s subsidiary findings are, nonetheless, reasonably explicit and subject to reuse. Hence, we proceed to take the lower court’s supportable findings of fact, couple them with other, uncontradicted facts, and, using the rule of law articulated above, determine for ourselves whether the admitted differences between the Venezuelan-made chocolates and the Italian-made chocolates are sufficiently material to warrant injunctive relief.
Catalog of Differences.
The district court identified numerous differences between the competing products. Because the record supports these findings and the parties do not contest their validity, we accept them. We add, however, other potentially significant distinctions made manifest by the record.
1. Quality Control. Although Nestle and Casa Helvetia each oversees the quality of the product it sells, the record reflects, and Casa Helvetia concedes, that their procedures differ radically. The Italian PERUGINA leaves Italy in refrigerated containers which arrive at Nestle’s facility in Puerto Rico. Nestle verifies the temperature of the coolers, opens them, and immediately transports the chocolates to refrigerated rooms. The company records the product’s date of manufacture, conducts laboratory tests, and destroys those candies that have expired. It then transports the salable chocolates to retailers in refrigerated trucks. Loading and unloading is performed only in the cool morning hours.
On the other hand, the Venezuelan product arrives in Puerto Rico via commercial air freight. During the afternoon hours, airline personnel remove the chocolates from the containers in which they were imported and place them in a central air cargo cooler. The next morning, employees of Casa Helvetia open random boxes at the airport to see if the chocolates have melted. The company then transports the candy in a refrigerated van to a warehouse. Casa Helvetia performs periodic inspections before delivering the goods to its customers in a refrigerated van. The record contains no evidence that Casa Helvetia knows or records the date the chocolates were manufactured.
2. Composition. The district court enumerated a number of differences in ingredients. The Italian BACI candies have five percent more milk fat than their Venezuelan counterparts, thus prolonging shelf life. Furthermore, the Italian BACI chocolates contain Ecuadorian and African cocoa beans, fresh hazelnuts, and cooked sugar syrup, whereas the corresponding Venezuelan candies are made with domestic beans, imported hazelnuts, and ordinary crystal sugar.
3. Configuration. The district court specifically noted that the Italian chocolates in the Maitre Confiseur and Assortment collections come in a greater variety of shapes than the Venezuelan pieces.
4. Packaging. The district court observed differences in the “boxes, wrappers and trays” between the Italian and Venezuelan versions of the various chocolate assortments. For example, the packages from Italy possess a glossy finish and are either silver, brown, or gold in color. The Venezuelan boxes lack the shiny finish. They are either blue, red, or yellow in color. While the Italian sweets sit in gold or silver trays, their Venezuelan counterparts rest on white or transparent trays. The Italian boxes depict the chocolates inside and describe the product in English, French, and Italian. The Venezuelan packages describe the contents only in Spanish and English. Moreover, only the BACI box illustrates what is inside.
5. Price. The district court pointed out that while the Venezuelan and Italian BACI collections contain the same quantity of chocolate (8 oz.), the Italian BACI sells for $12.99 and the Venezuelan BACI costs $7.50. The record also reflects that the Italian version of the Assortment collection (14.25 oz. for $26.99) weighs less and is more expensive than the Venezuelan version (15.6 oz. for $22.99).
Applying the Standard
Applying the legal standard discussed in Part III, supra, to the record at bar, it is readily apparent that material differences exist between the Italian and Venezuelan PERUGINA. These differences – which implicate quality, composition, packaging, and price – if not overwhelming, are certainly relevant. We run the gamut.
Differences in quality control methods, although not always obvious to the naked eye, are nonetheless important to the consumer. The precautions a company takes to preserve a food product’s freshness are a prime example. Here, the parties’ quality control procedures differ significantly. Even if Casa Helvetia’s quality control measures are as effective as Nestle’s – a dubious proposition on this record – the fact that Nestle is unable to oversee the quality of the goods for the entire period until they reach the consumer is significant in ascertaining whether a Lanham Act violation exists. Regardless of the offending goods’ actual quality, courts have issued Lanham Act injunctions solely because of the trademark owner’s inability to control the quality of the goods bearing its name. Thus, the substantial variance in quality control here creates a presumption of customer confusion as a matter of law.
The differences in presentation of the candies are also material. Although the district court dismissed the differences in packaging as “subtle,” subtle differences are, as we have said, precisely the type that heighten the presumption of customer confusion. Consumers are more likely to be confused as to the origin of different goods bearing the same name when both goods are substantially identical in appearance. Furthermore, the differences in presentation and chocolate shape strike us as more than subtle. Glossy veneers, gold and silver wraps, and delicate sculpting add to the consumer’s perception of quality. In the market for premium chocolates, often purchased as gifts, an elegant-looking package is an important consideration. The cosmetic differences between the Italian-made and the Venezuelan-made PERUGINA, therefore, might well perplex consumers and harm Nestle’s goodwill.
We are also hesitant to dismiss as trivial the differences in ingredients. While the district court may be correct in suggesting that “the ultimate consumer is [not] concerned about the country of origin of cocoa beans and hazelnuts,” the measure of milk fat in the chocolates is potentially significant. Certainly, consumers care about the expected shelf life of food products.
Price, without doubt, is also a variable with which purchasers are concerned. To the consumer (perhaps a gift buyer) who relishes a higher price for its connotation of quality and status, as well as to the chocolate aficionado who values his wallet more than his image, a difference of nearly five and a half dollars (or, put another way, 73 percent) on a half-pound box of chocolate is a relevant datum. Furthermore, the fact that consumers are willing to pay over five dollars more for the Italian-made chocolate than for its Venezuelan counterpart may suggest that consumers do care about the other differences between the two products. Afforded perfect information, consumers indifferent between the two would presumably not be willing to pay more for one than for the other.
We need go no further. Given the low threshold of materiality that applies in gray goods cases, we find the above dissimilarities material in the aggregate. The use of the same PERUGINA label on chocolates manifesting such differences is presumptively likely to cause confusion. Casa Helvetia could, of course, have offered evidence to rebut this presumption – but it has not done so. There is no proof that retailers explain to consumers the differences between the Italian and Venezuelan products. The record is likewise devoid of any evidence that consumers are indifferent about quality control procedures, packaging, ingredients, or price. Because the differences between the Italian and Venezuelan PERUGINA chocolates are material, the district court erred in denying plaintiffs’ trademark infringement and unfair competition claims.
Reversed and remanded for the entry of appropriate injunctive relief and for further proceedings not inconsistent herewith.
Notes and Questions
1. A low threshold. As the court notes in Nestle, there is a low threshold of materiality that applies in gray goods cases. Why is the threshold so low? Is there any limiting principle that could be applied to the types of details that could constitute a material difference between imported and domestic products?
2. Price? One of the most surprising holdings of Nestle was that differences in price alone could support a finding that an imported product was materially different than a domestic product, even if the products were otherwise identical. If this is the case, would the discount retailers of Thai-manufactured Nike athletic shoes discussed in the introduction to this section be liable for trademark infringement? Is this outcome consistent with the purpose of the trademark exhaustion doctrine?
3. Consumer preferences. The court in Nestle observes that “The record is … devoid of any evidence that consumers are indifferent about quality control procedures, packaging, ingredients, or price.” What if the defendant had conducted consumer taste tests and surveys demonstrating that most consumers could not tell the difference between the Italian and Venezuelan chocolates, and didn’t really care about the other factors? Would the result have changed?
4. An international difference. As shown in the Kirtsaeng and Impression Products cases, the tests for exhaustion of copyrighted and patented products do not change depending on whether the product originates domestically or abroad (those cases largely considering whether international exhaustion should exist at all). In trademark cases, however, the tests for exhaustion are somewhat different for domestic and international products. Consider that the Venezuelan PERUGINA chocolates found to be infringing in Nestle were unaltered when distributed in Puerto Rico. They were the exact products manufactured by Nestle’s authorized Venezuelan producer, Alimentos. Unlike the refurbished surgical instrument in Surgi-Tech or the watches in Rolex, Casa Helvetia made no changes at all to the candies produced and packaged by Alimentos. So why was Casa Helvetia liable for trademark infringement when reselling these authorized goods in Puerto Rico?
5. Cure by labeling? Professor Irene Calboli notes that “several countries allow importers and/or national distributors to cure these differences [in imported products] by affixing disclaimers to the goods clearly notifying that these goods have been imported by third parties and may be of a different quality.”Footnote 12 Would such a label notification have addressed any potential consumer confusion in Nestle? Should the United States allow parallel imports of slightly different products so long as consumers are warned?
Summary Contents
Intellectual property rights, particularly patents and copyrights, are powerful legal instruments that give their owners exclusive rights over potentially broad fields of technical and creative output. Not surprisingly, actors holding rights of such potency often seek to use them to their greatest commercial advantage. And, at times, these uses have overstepped the line of legitimate business competition and entered a realm that the law has deemed worthy of sanction.
The antitrust laws, discussed in Chapter 25, were created to curb abuses in the competitive landscape by limiting both collusive agreements among competitors and abusive practices by monopolists. Yet merely holding a patent or a copyright does not necessarily give its owner power to distort competition in a particular market.Footnote 1 After all, many modern technology devices are covered by thousands of patents held by hundreds of different firms, and it is unlikely that any one patent or group of patents confers the type of market power necessary to trigger the antitrust laws.Footnote 2 Yet the owners of intellectual property (IP) rights may still overstep the bounds of legitimate competition in ways that public policy seeks to contain. Redress for this conduct must therefore come from the IP laws themselves, rather than the antitrust laws. The IP-based doctrines that have arisen to address the anticompetitive or abusive use of IP rights are loosely classified as intellectual property “misuse.”
In this chapter we will explore the origins of misuse doctrine and its evolution into several distinct doctrines that remain important today. Understanding these doctrines is of critical importance to the transactional licensing attorney because, as we will see, IP misuse almost always arises in the context of a licensing agreement that – with or without ill intent – oversteps the line.
24.1 The Origins of the Misuse Doctrine
Though the doctrine has existed since at least 1917,Footnote 3 most discussions of IP misuse begin with the Supreme Court’s famous decision in Morton Salt v. Suppiger, which gave a name to a species of abusive use of patents that was distinct from previously recognized offenses under the antitrust laws.
314 U.S. 488 (1942)
STONE, CHIEF JUSTICE
Respondent brought this suit in the district court for an injunction and an accounting for infringement of its Patent No. 2,060,645, of November 10, 1936, on a machine for depositing salt tablets, a device said to be useful in the canning industry for adding predetermined amounts of salt in tablet form to the contents of the cans.
Upon petitioner’s motion … the trial court, without passing on the issues of validity and infringement, granted summary judgment dismissing the complaint. It took the ground that respondent was making use of the patent to restrain the sale of salt tablets in competition with its own sale of unpatented tablets, by requiring licensees to use with the patented machines only tablets sold by respondent. The Court of Appeals for the Seventh Circuit reversed because it thought that respondent’s use of the patent was not shown to violate § 3 of the Clayton Act, as it did not appear that the use of its patent substantially lessened competition or tended to create a monopoly in salt tablets.Footnote 4 We granted certiorari because of the public importance of the question presented and of an alleged conflict of the decision below with [prior cases].
The Clayton Act authorizes those injured by violations tending to monopoly to maintain suit for treble damages and for an injunction in appropriate cases. But the present suit is for infringement of a patent. The question we must decide is not necessarily whether respondent has violated the Clayton Act, but whether a court of equity will lend its aid to protect the patent monopoly when respondent is using it as the effective means of restraining competition with its sale of an unpatented article.
Both respondent’s wholly owned subsidiary and the petitioner manufacture and sell salt tablets used and useful in the canning trade. The tablets have a particular configuration rendering them capable of convenient use in respondent’s patented machines. Petitioner makes and leases to canners unpatented salt deposition machines, charged to infringe respondent’s patent. For reasons we indicate later, nothing turns on the fact that petitioner also competes with respondent in the sale of the tablets, and we may assume for purposes of this case that petitioner is doing no more than making and leasing the alleged infringing machines. The principal business of respondent’s subsidiary, from which its profits are derived, is the sale of salt tablets. In connection with this business, and as an adjunct to it, respondent leases its patented machines to commercial canners, some two hundred in all, under licenses to use the machines upon condition and with the agreement of the licensees that only the subsidiary’s salt tablets be used with the leased machines.
It thus appears that respondent is making use of its patent monopoly to restrain competition in the marketing of unpatented articles, salt tablets, for use with the patented machines, and is aiding in the creation of a limited monopoly in the tablets not within that granted by the patent. A patent operates to create and grant to the patentee an exclusive right to make, use and vend the particular device described and claimed in the patent. But a patent affords no immunity for a monopoly not within the grant and the use of it to suppress competition in the sale of an unpatented article may deprive the patentee of the aid of a court of equity to restrain an alleged infringement by one who is a competitor. It is the established rule that a patentee who has granted a license on condition that the patented invention be used by the licensee only with unpatented materials furnished by the licensor, may not restrain as a contributory infringer one who sells to the licensee like materials for like use.
The grant to the inventor of the special privilege of a patent monopoly carries out a public policy adopted by the Constitution and laws of the United States, “to promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to … Inventors the exclusive Right” to their “new and useful” inventions. But the public policy which includes inventions within the granted monopoly excludes from it all that is not embraced in the invention. It equally forbids the use of the patent to secure an exclusive right or limited monopoly not granted by the Patent Office and which it is contrary to public policy to grant.
It is a principle of general application that courts, and especially courts of equity, may appropriately withhold their aid where the plaintiff is using the right asserted contrary to the public interest. Respondent argues that this doctrine is limited in its application to those cases where the patentee seeks to restrain contributory infringement by the sale to licensees of competing unpatented articles, while here respondent seeks to restrain petitioner from a direct infringement, the manufacture and sale of the salt tablet depositor. It is said that the equitable maxim that a party seeking the aid of a court of equity must come into court with clean hands applies only to the plaintiff’s wrongful conduct in the particular act or transaction which raises the equity, enforcement of which is sought; that where, as here, the patentee seeks to restrain the manufacture or use of the patented device, his conduct in using the patent to restrict competition in the sale of salt tablets does not foreclose him from seeking relief limited to an injunction against the manufacture and sale of the infringing machine alone.
Undoubtedly equity does not demand that its suitors shall have led blameless lives; but additional considerations must be taken into account where maintenance of the suit concerns the public interest as well as the private interests of suitors. Where the patent is used as a means of restraining competition with the patentee’s sale of an unpatented product, the successful prosecution of an infringement suit even against one who is not a competitor in such sale is a powerful aid to the maintenance of the attempted monopoly of the unpatented article, and is thus a contributing factor in thwarting the public policy underlying the grant of the patent. Maintenance and enlargement of the attempted monopoly of the unpatented article are dependent to some extent upon persuading the public of the validity of the patent, which the infringement suit is intended to establish. Equity may rightly withhold its assistance from such a use of the patent by declining to entertain a suit for infringement, and should do so at least until it is made to appear that the improper practice has been abandoned and that the consequences of the misuse of the patent have been dissipated.
The reasons for barring the prosecution of such a suit against one who is not a competitor with the patentee in the sale of the unpatented product are fundamentally the same as those which preclude an infringement suit against a licensee who has violated a condition of the license by using with the licensed machine a competing unpatented article, or against a vendee of a patented or copyrighted article for violation of a condition for the maintenance of resale prices. It is the adverse effect upon the public interest of a successful infringement suit in conjunction with the patentee’s course of conduct which disqualifies him to maintain the suit, regardless of whether the particular defendant has suffered from the misuse of the patent. Similarly equity will deny relief for infringement of a trademark where the plaintiff is misrepresenting to the public the nature of his product either by the trademark itself or by his label. The patentee, like these other holders of an exclusive privilege granted in the furtherance of a public policy, may not claim protection of his grant by the courts where it is being used to subvert that policy.
It is unnecessary to decide whether respondent has violated the Clayton Act, for we conclude that in any event the maintenance of the present suit to restrain petitioner’s manufacture or sale of the alleged infringing machines is contrary to public policy and that the district court rightly dismissed the complaint for want of equity.
REVERSED.
Notes and Questions
1. Public policy. The Court in Morton Salt bases its decision largely on public policy grounds. Chief Justice Stone famously writes, “equity does not demand that its suitors shall have led blameless lives; but additional considerations must be taken into account where maintenance of the suit concerns the public interest as well as the private interests of suitors.” What public policy is at stake in the case, and how is it advanced by the recognition of patent misuse as a defense to infringement?
2. Antitrust or not? The Court in Morton Salt states that Suppiger’s contractual restriction “restrain[s] competition in the marketing of unpatented articles, salt tablets, for use with the patented machines, and is aiding in the creation of a limited monopoly in the tablets not within that granted by the patent.” This sounds a lot like an antitrust claim, yet the Court later states that it is “unnecessary to decide whether respondent has violated the Clayton Act” (and the Seventh Circuit below found insufficient facts to prove such a violation). Why did the Supreme Court brush aside the antitrust laws to create the new doctrine of patent misuse in this case?Footnote 5
3. The crux of misuse. The Court seems to identify the crux of Suppiger’s misuse as “aiding in the creation of a limited monopoly in the tablets not within that granted by the patent.” That is, Suppiger’s offense was seeking to expand its patent monopoly (in the machines) beyond its granted scope (i.e., to the tablets). The expansion of a patent (or copyright) monopoly beyond what was granted by the government is thus the gravamen of misuse claims. What is so bad about such an expansion, so long as it is accomplished via mutual agreement of the affected parties?
4. Injury? Recall that the Morton Salt case was brought as an infringement action by Suppiger against Morton. Morton did not allege any particular harm from Suppiger’s alleged misuse of the asserted patent. Morton presented no evidence that it lost potential sales of salt tablets to users of Suppiger’s machines or even that Suppiger overcharged customers for its salt tablets. So, who was injured by Suppiger’s misuse? And why should a provision in a licensing agreement between Suppiger and its customers have anything to do with whether or not Morton is liable for selling infringing machines?
5. A drastic remedy. The Court’s remedy for Suppiger’s patent misuse was drastic: Suppiger lost the ability to enforce its patent against Morton, even if Morton had been infringing. How can such a drastic remedy be justified?
6. No cause of action. In Morton Salt, Suppiger sued Morton for selling salt-depositing machines that allegedly infringed Suppiger’s patent. Morton raised Suppiger’s alleged misuse of its machine patents as an affirmative defense. Interestingly, unlike an antitrust claim, patent misuse is only an affirmative defense and gives rise to no independent cause of action. Should it be?
7. Blameless lives? In Morton Salt, Chief Justice Stone cryptically observes that “equity does not demand that its suitors shall have led blameless lives.” He is perhaps referring to the fact, noted in the Seventh Circuit opinion below, that Morton “also leases its machine to the trade and provides in its lease that the lessee shall use only salt tablets made by it.” 117 F.2d at 970 (emphasis added). Thus, Morton employed precisely the same exclusive purchasing provision as Suppiger. What do you make of this coincidence? Why did the Supreme Court pay it so little heed? Does it matter than Suppiger’s salt-depositing machine was patented, but Morton’s was not? How would you answer one commentator’s question “[s]hould not Morton be estopped by its own conduct from asserting the misuse defense?”Footnote 6
24.2 Misuse by Scope Expansion: Tying and Statutory Reform
As we will see in Section 25.5, the improper use of leverage in one market to support sales in another market is known as “tying,” a practice that is condemned by the antitrust laws. In a sense, Suppiger’s requirement that users of its patented machines buy its unpatented salt tablets can also be viewed as a type of illegal “tie.” Liability for this form of tying misuse, however, is different than that under the antitrust laws. With tying misuse, there is no requirement that the tying party (Suppiger) have market power in the market for the tying product (salt-depositing machines) or that the claimant establish any injury from the alleged tie. It is simply enough that the misuse occur to trigger the drastic remedy of patent unenforceability.
Following Morton Salt, the courts considered a number of cases in which a patent holder sought to use its patents to exert control over unpatented articles. In Mercoid Corp. v. Minneapolis-Honeywell Regulator Co., 320 U.S. 680 (1944), the Supreme Court considered a patent held by Minneapolis-Honeywell covering a furnace thermostat control system. Each such system includes three thermostats that control the switching of the furnace stoker and the fan. While the combination of these components was covered by the patent, the individual thermostatic switches used in the system were not patented.
Minneapolis-Honeywell granted five manufacturers a royalty-bearing license under the patent to make thermostatic switches designed for use in the patented furnace system. The licensing agreement required each such manufacturer to include a notice with each switch, informing the customer that its purchase of the switch included a license for one installation of the patented furnace system. The only way for a customer to obtain a license to install and use the patented system, apparently, was to purchase a thermostatic switch from one of the licensed manufacturers.
Mercoid, a switch manufacturer, refused to take a license. When Mercoid then sold thermostatic switches that were compatible with the patented furnace system, Minneapolis-Honeywell sued Mercoid for contributory infringement – supplying a necessary part of the patented system, even if it did not itself infringe the full patent.Footnote 7 Mercoid raised the defense of patent misuse, arguing that Minneapolis-Honeywell, in its five licensing agreements with other switch manufacturers, was collecting royalties on the sale of unpatented switches. The Supreme Court, citing Morton Salt, ruled in favor of Mercoid, holding that
The legality of any attempt to bring unpatented goods within the protection of the patent is measured by the anti-trust lawsFootnote 8 not by the patent law … [T]he effort here made to control competition in this unpatented device plainly violates the anti-trust laws … It follows that [Mercoid] is entitled to be relieved against the consequences of those acts. It likewise follows that [Minneapolis-Honeywell] may not obtain from a court of equity any decree which directly or indirectly helps it to subvert the public policy which underlies the grant of its patent.
The court did not seem to care that Mercoid’s thermostatic switch was a critical element of the patented Minneapolis-Honeywell system. It explained that “However worthy it may be, however essential to the patent, an unpatented part of a combination patent is no more entitled to monopolistic protection than any other unpatented device.” Thus, like Suppiger’s attempt to control the supply of unpatented salt pellets, Minneapolis-Honeywell was barred by the misuse doctrine from using its patent to control the sale of unpatented thermostatic switches.
The Mercoid decision set off alarm bells throughout the industry. Effectively, it meant that a patent holder could not stop a supplier from selling a critical but unpatented component designed for use in a patented system, even if the only use for that component was in the patented system. In other words, a patent on a complex mechanical system was virtually worthless unless an infringer sold the entire system as a whole. The sale of components that were not separately patented could not be prevented.
The result of this public outcry was the inclusion of a new statutory prohibition on contributory infringement in the 1952 version of the Patent Act. This section, now codified as 35 U.S.C. § 271(c), provides that
Whoever [sells] a component of a patented machine, manufacture, combination or composition, or a material or apparatus for use in practicing a patented process, constituting a material part of the invention, knowing the same to be especially made or especially adapted for use in an infringement of such patent, and not a staple article or commodity of commerce suitable for substantial noninfringing use, shall be liable as a contributory infringer.
Section 271(c) clarifies the law of contributory patent infringement, establishing that the seller of a component of a patented system can be held liable for contributory infringement, so long as the component is not a “staple article” (e.g., sale of a screw, nail or wire should not result in contributory infringement by the seller even if the component is used in a patented system).
But the 1952 Act went further. In addition to establishing the framework for contributory patent infringement, it clarified the law of patent misuse, now codified in Section 271(d):
(d) No patent owner otherwise entitled to relief for infringement or contributory infringement of a patent shall be denied relief or deemed guilty of misuse or illegal extension of the patent right by reason of his having done one or more of the following:
(1) derived revenue from acts which if performed by another without his consent would constitute contributory infringement of the patent;
(2) licensed or authorized another to perform acts which if performed without his consent would constitute contributory infringement of the patent;
(3) sought to enforce his patent rights against infringement or contributory infringement
This new provision exonerates patent holders from three actions for which Minneapolis-Honeywell was condemned in Mercoid: charging a royalty to someone who is not directly infringing a patent; licensing someone to sell a noninfringing product if it would contribute to someone else’s infringement; and enforcing a patent against a contributory infringer.
Even with these modifications, the patent misuse doctrine had its detractors, some of them highly placed. For example, Senator Orrin Hatch (R-Ut), a long-time champion of strong IP rights, remarked:
The patent misuse doctrine has come to provide a defense even to a person who knowingly infringes a valid patent and is not affected by the conduct held to be misuse. If there ever existed a reason for this harsh result, it is long gone.
Hatch’s comments were not idle posturing. In 1988, the Senate passed a sweeping bill that all but eliminated the doctrine. Eventually, a less extreme version of the bill was enacted as the Patent Misuse Reform Act of 1988.Footnote 9 It adds two additional exclusions from patent misuse already present under § 271(d), providing that it shall not be misuse if a patent owner has:
(4) refused to license or use any rights to the patent; or
(5) conditioned the license of any rights to the patent or the sale of the patented product on the acquisition of a license to rights in another patent or purchase of a separate product, unless, in view of the circumstances, the patent owner has market power in the relevant market for the patent or patented product on which the license or sale is conditioned.
Clause 4 of the 1988 amendment codifies a venerable doctrine under patent law: A patent owner may choose whether and with whom to conduct business; it need not grant a license to any particular party, and is free to refuse to grant such a license.Footnote 10
Clause 5, however, effects a more significant change. It effectively reconnects the misuse doctrine to antitrust law – a connection that was severed by the Supreme Court in Morton Salt. That is, it provides that tying-based patent misuse will not be found unless the patent holder has “market power in the relevant market for the patent or patented product” (i.e., the tying product). As such, tying misuse now requires a similar level of market leverage as the offense of tying under the antitrust laws (see Section 25.5).
Notes and Questions
1. Contributory and direct infringers. In Mercoid, Minneapolis-Honeywell sued Mercoid for contributory patent infringement under the old common law regime. Even before the 1952 Act this was a risky move, as Mercoid was only selling an unpatented component of Minneapolis-Honeywell’s patented furnace control system. In order to establish a claim for contributory infringement, the alleged contributory infringer must be contributing to a direct infringement by somebody else. In this case, the direct infringer would be anyone who installed a furnace control system covered by the patent. Why didn’t Minneapolis-Honeywell simply sue these direct infringers? What was attractive about suing Mercoid?
2. Legislative override. It is not uncommon in IP law for Congress to enact laws specifically designed to overrule unpopular judicial decisions.Footnote 11 What commercial interests were most opposed to the patent misuse doctrine? How do you explain a concerted industrial lobbying effort in this regard, given that cases in which patent misuses arises often involve two large corporations (e.g., Morton Salt and Suppiger)?
3. Codifying contributory infringement. Why did Congress feel the need to codify the law of contributory patent infringement in 1952? Other than overriding the decision in Mercoid, what else did this statutory enactment have?
4. Antitrust and misuse. Prior to 1988, many commentators felt that patent misuse should be treated as a species of antitrust violation, and no more. Section 271(d)(5) achieved this goal, in part, for tying-type misuse. But patent misuse is still a separate legal doctrine, distinct from antitrust law. How does misuse differ from antitrust law, even after the 1988 amendments?
5. Other forms of scope expansion. In Bayer AG v. Housey Pharmaceuticals, Inc., 169 F. Supp. 2d 328 (2001), Housey licensed four patents relating to screening methods for therapeutic compounds to more than thirty different companies. Housey offered two different payment options for this license: a lump-sum payment based on the licensee’s R&D budget, or a running royalty based on the licensee’s sale of therapeutic compounds discovered using the patented method. Bayer attempted to negotiate a license with Housey, but the parties could not come to terms and Bayer sought a declaratory judgment that Housey had committed patent misuse by charging royalties based on compounds not covered by its patent claims. The court, echoing the reasoning of the “package licensing” cases Automatic Radio and Zenith (discussed in Section 24.4), held that Housey had not committed misuse, as it did not condition the grant of its license on the payment of royalties on unpatented products, but rather offered this as an option.Footnote 12
24.3 Misuse by Term Expansion: Post-Expiration Royalties
24.3.1 The Long Shadow of Brulotte
As the Supreme Court established in Morton Salt, patent misuse constitutes the expansion of the patent monopoly beyond the scope granted by the Patent and Trademark Office (PTO). The tying-type misuse claims discussed above each involved the purported expansion of a patent’s reach to unpatented articles sold by the patent holder or its licensees (e.g., salt tablets, sensors). But a patent monopoly can be expanded in other ways.
In Brulotte v. Thys Co., 379 U.S. 29 (1964),Footnote 13 Thys Co. held twelve patents covering the process of mechanized hop-picking and hop-picking machines. Walter Brulotte and Raymond Charvet were hop farmers in Yakima County, Washington. They each purchased portable Thys hop-picking machines that they acquired second-hand. When Thys approached the farmers with its patents, each agreed to take a license under which he would pay Thys minimum annual royalties of $500 for seventeen years from the date of the original purchase.Footnote 14 They also agreed during this period not to remove the machines from Yakima County. Brulotte’s royalty obligation was scheduled to expire in 1958, Charvet’s in 1960. Both farmers ceased to pay Thys royalties in 1952, and the last of the patents expired in 1957. When Thys sued to recover unpaid royalties, the farmers argued that Thys committed patent misuse by charging royalties and seeking to control the location of the machines after expiration of the patents.
Justice Douglas, writing for the Supreme Court, reasoned that
a patentee’s use of a royalty agreement that projects beyond the expiration date of the patent is unlawful per se. If that device were available to patentees, the free market visualized for the post-expiration period would be subject to monopoly influences that have no proper place there … The exaction of royalties for use of a machine after the patent has expired is an assertion of monopoly power in the post-expiration period when, as we have seen, the patent has entered the public domain.
Justice Harlan dissented from the Court’s decision, arguing that the payment of royalties following expiration of the patents should be treated as an extension of payment terms, rather than an expansion of the patent monopoly:
The essence of the majority opinion may lie in some notion that “patent leverage” being used by Thys to exact use payments extending beyond the patent term somehow allows Thys to extract more onerous payments from the farmers than would otherwise be obtainable. If this be the case, the Court must in some way distinguish long-term use payments from long-term installment payments of a flat-sum purchase price. For the danger which it seems to fear would appear to inhere equally in both, and as I read the Court’s opinion, the latter type of arrangement is lawful despite the fact that failure to pay an installment under a conditional sales contract would permit the seller to recapture the machine, thus terminating – not merely restricting – the farmer’s use of it.
Criticisms of this nature continued in the years following Brulotte. In Scheiber v. Dolby Laboratories, Inc., 293 F.3d 1014 (7th Cir. 2002), Judge Richard Posner reasoned that “charging royalties beyond the term of the patent does not lengthen the patentee’s monopoly; it merely alters the timing of royalty payments.” Nevertheless, he followed Brulotte, but only because he was compelled to, complaining that “we have no authority to overrule a Supreme Court decision no matter how dubious its reasoning strikes us, or even how out of touch with the Supreme Court’s current thinking the decision seems.”
Despite nearly continual criticism by commentators and lower courts, Brulotte has remained good law, and was most recently affirmed in no uncertain terms by the Supreme Court in the following case.
576 U.S. 446 (2015)
KAGAN, JUSTICE
In Brulotte v. Thys Co., 379 U.S. 29 (1964), this Court held that a patent holder cannot charge royalties for the use of his invention after its patent term has expired. The sole question presented here is whether we should overrule Brulotte. Adhering to principles of stare decisis, we decline to do so. Critics of the Brulotte rule must seek relief not from this Court but from Congress.
In 1990, petitioner Stephen Kimble obtained a patent on a toy that allows children (and young-at-heart adults) to role-play as “a spider person” by shooting webs—really, pressurized foam string—“from the palm of [the] hand.” … Respondent Marvel Entertainment, LLC (Marvel) makes and markets products featuring Spider–Man, among other comic-book characters. Seeking to sell or license his patent, Kimble met with the president of Marvel’s corporate predecessor to discuss his idea for web-slinging fun. Soon afterward, but without remunerating Kimble, that company began marketing the “Web Blaster”—a toy that, like Kimble’s patented invention, enables would-be action heroes to mimic Spider–Man through the use of a polyester glove and a canister of foam.
Kimble sued Marvel in 1997 alleging, among other things, patent infringement. The parties ultimately settled that litigation. Their agreement provided that Marvel would purchase Kimble’s patent in exchange for a lump sum (of about a half-million dollars) and a 3% royalty on Marvel’s future sales of the Web Blaster and similar products. The parties set no end date for royalties, apparently contemplating that they would continue for as long as kids want to imitate Spider–Man (by doing whatever a spider can).
And then Marvel stumbled across Brulotte, the case at the heart of this dispute. In negotiating the settlement, neither side was aware of Brulotte. But Marvel must have been pleased to learn of it. Brulotte had read the patent laws to prevent a patentee from receiving royalties for sales made after his patent’s expiration. So the decision’s effect was to sunset the settlement’s royalty clause. On making that discovery, Marvel sought a declaratory judgment in federal district court confirming that the company could cease paying royalties come 2010—the end of Kimble’s patent term. The court approved that relief, holding that Brulotte made “the royalty provision … unenforceable after the expiration of the Kimble patent.” The Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit affirmed, though making clear that it was none too happy about doing so. “[T]he Brulotte rule,” the court complained, “is counterintuitive and its rationale is arguably unconvincing.”
We granted certiorari, to decide whether, as some courts and commentators have suggested, we should overrule Brulotte. For reasons of stare decisis, we demur.
Patents endow their holders with certain superpowers, but only for a limited time. In crafting the patent laws, Congress struck a balance between fostering innovation and ensuring public access to discoveries. While a patent lasts, the patentee possesses exclusive rights to the patented article—rights he may sell or license for royalty payments if he so chooses. But a patent typically expires 20 years from the day the application for it was filed. And when the patent expires, the patentee’s prerogatives expire too, and the right to make or use the article, free from all restriction, passes to the public.
In a related line of decisions, we have deemed unenforceable private contract provisions limiting free use of such inventions. In Scott Paper Co. v. Marcalus Mfg. Co., 326 U.S. 249 (1945), for example, we determined that a manufacturer could not agree to refrain from challenging a patent’s validity. Allowing even a single company to restrict its use of an expired or invalid patent, we explained, “would deprive … the consuming public of the advantage to be derived” from free exploitation of the discovery. And to permit such a result, whether or not authorized “by express contract,” would impermissibly undermine the patent laws.
Brulotte was brewed in the same barrel. There, an inventor licensed his patented hop-picking machine to farmers in exchange for royalties from hop crops harvested both before and after his patents’ expiration dates. The Court (by an 8–1 vote) held the agreement unenforceable—“unlawful per se”—to the extent it provided for the payment of royalties “accru[ing] after the last of the patents incorporated into the machines had expired.”
The Brulotte rule, like others making contract provisions unenforceable, prevents some parties from entering into deals they desire. As compared to lump-sum fees, royalty plans both draw out payments over time and tie those payments, in each month or year covered, to a product’s commercial success. And sometimes, for some parties, the longer the arrangement lasts, the better—not just up to but beyond a patent term’s end. A more extended payment period, coupled (as it presumably would be) with a lower rate, may bring the price the patent holder seeks within the range of a cash-strapped licensee. (Anyone who has bought a product on installment can relate.). Or such an extended term may better allocate the risks and rewards associated with commercializing inventions—most notably, when years of development work stand between licensing a patent and bringing a product to market. As to either goal, Brulotte may pose an obstacle.
Yet parties can often find ways around Brulotte, enabling them to achieve those same ends. To start, Brulotte allows a licensee to defer payments for pre-expiration use of a patent into the post-expiration period; all the decision bars are royalties for using an invention after it has moved into the public domain. A licensee could agree, for example, to pay the licensor a sum equal to 10% of sales during the 20-year patent term, but to amortize that amount over 40 years. That arrangement would at least bring down early outlays, even if it would not do everything the parties might want to allocate risk over a long timeframe. And parties have still more options when a licensing agreement covers either multiple patents or additional non-patent rights. Under Brulotte, royalties may run until the latest-running patent covered in the parties’ agreement expires. Too, post-expiration royalties are allowable so long as tied to a non-patent right—even when closely related to a patent. That means, for example, that a license involving both a patent and a trade secret can set a 5% royalty during the patent period (as compensation for the two combined) and a 4% royalty afterward (as payment for the trade secret alone). Finally and most broadly, Brulotte poses no bar to business arrangements other than royalties—all kinds of joint ventures, for example—that enable parties to share the risks and rewards of commercializing an invention.
Contending that such alternatives are not enough, Kimble asks us to abandon Brulotte in favor of “flexible, case-by-case analysis” of post-expiration royalty clauses “under the rule of reason.” Used in antitrust law, the rule of reason requires courts to evaluate a practice’s effect on competition by “taking into account a variety of factors, including specific information about the relevant business, its condition before and after the [practice] was imposed, and the [practice’s] history, nature, and effect.” Of primary importance in this context, Kimble posits, is whether a patent holder has power in the relevant market and so might be able to curtail competition. Resolving that issue, Kimble notes, entails “a full-fledged economic inquiry into the definition of the market, barriers to entry, and the like.”
Overruling precedent is never a small matter. Stare decisis—in English, the idea that today’s Court should stand by yesterday’s decisions—is “a foundation stone of the rule of law.” Application of that doctrine, although “not an inexorable command,” is the “preferred course because it promotes the evenhanded, predictable, and consistent development of legal principles, fosters reliance on judicial decisions, and contributes to the actual and perceived integrity of the judicial process.” It also reduces incentives for challenging settled precedents, saving parties and courts the expense of endless relitigation.
Respecting stare decisis means sticking to some wrong decisions. The doctrine rests on the idea, as Justice Brandeis famously wrote, that it is usually “more important that the applicable rule of law be settled than that it be settled right.” Burnet v. Coronado Oil & Gas Co., 285 U.S. 393, 406 (1932) (dissenting opinion). To reverse course, we require as well what we have termed a “special justification”—over and above the belief “that the precedent was wrongly decided.”
And Congress has spurned multiple opportunities to reverse Brulotte—openings as frequent and clear as this Court ever sees. Brulotte has governed licensing agreements for more than half a century. During that time, Congress has repeatedly amended the patent laws, including the specific provision on which Brulotte rested. Brulotte survived every such change. Indeed, Congress has rebuffed bills that would have replaced Brulotte’s per se rule with the same antitrust-style analysis Kimble now urges. Congress’s continual reworking of the patent laws—but never of the Brulotte rule—further supports leaving the decision in place.
Nor yet are we done, for the subject matter of Brulotte adds to the case for adhering to precedent. Brulotte lies at the intersection of two areas of law: property (patents) and contracts (licensing agreements). And we have often recognized that in just those contexts—“cases involving property and contract rights”—considerations favoring stare decisis are “at their acme.” That is because parties are especially likely to rely on such precedents when ordering their affairs. To be sure, Marvel and Kimble disagree about whether Brulotte has actually generated reliance. Marvel says yes: Some parties, it claims, do not specify an end date for royalties in their licensing agreements, instead relying on Brulotte as a default rule … Overturning Brulotte would thus upset expectations, most so when long-dormant licenses for long-expired patents spring back to life. Not true, says Kimble: Unfair surprise is unlikely, because no “meaningful number of [such] license agreements … actually exist.” To be honest, we do not know (nor, we suspect, do Marvel and Kimble). But even uncertainty on this score cuts in Marvel’s direction. So long as we see a reasonable possibility that parties have structured their business transactions in light of Brulotte, we have one more reason to let it stand.
As against this superpowered form of stare decisis, we would need a superspecial justification to warrant reversing Brulotte. But the kinds of reasons we have most often held sufficient in the past do not help Kimble here. If anything, they reinforce our unwillingness to do what he asks.
B
Kimble also seeks support from the wellspring of all patent policy: the goal of promoting innovation. Brulotte, he contends, “discourages technological innovation and does significant damage to the American economy.” Recall that would-be licensors and licensees may benefit from post-patent royalty arrangements because they allow for a longer payment period and a more precise allocation of risk. If the parties’ ideal licensing agreement is barred, Kimble reasons, they may reach no agreement at all. And that possibility may discourage invention in the first instance. The bottom line, Kimble concludes, is that some “breakthrough technologies will never see the light of day.”
Maybe. Or, then again, maybe not. While we recognize that post-patent royalties are sometimes not anticompetitive, we just cannot say whether barring them imposes any meaningful drag on innovation. As we have explained, Brulotte leaves open various ways—involving both licensing and other business arrangements—to accomplish payment deferral and risk-spreading alike. Those alternatives may not offer the parties the precise set of benefits and obligations they would prefer. But they might still suffice to bring patent holders and product developers together and ensure that inventions get to the public. Neither Kimble nor his amici have offered any empirical evidence connecting Brulotte to decreased innovation; they essentially ask us to take their word for the problem. And the United States, which acts as both a licensor and a licensee of patented inventions while also implementing patent policy, vigorously disputes that Brulotte has caused any “significant real-world economic harm.” Truth be told, if forced to decide that issue, we would not know where or how to start.
What we can decide, we can undecide. But stare decisis teaches that we should exercise that authority sparingly. Finding many reasons for staying the stare decisis course and no “special justification” for departing from it, we decline Kimble’s invitation to overrule Brulotte.
For the reasons stated, the judgment of the Court of Appeals is affirmed.
Notes and Questions
1. Deferred payments. Brulotte has been criticized – from Justice Harlan’s original dissent to the dissenting justices in Kimble – for seeming to disregard the parties’ reasonable desire to spread payments over time. But Justice Douglas understood the concept of installment payments, and rejected the argument that Thys was simply allowing the licensee farmers to make payments over time. “The royalty payments due for the post-expiration period are by their terms for use during that period, and are not deferred payments for use during the pre-expiration period.” 379 U.S. at 31. “The sale or lease of unpatented machines on long-term payments based on a deferred purchase price or on use would present wholly different considerations.” 379 U.S. at 32. What distinction does Justice Douglas draw regarding the nature of the post-expiration payments, and why is it so important?
2. Nonroyalty obligations. In Brulotte, Justice Douglas is careful to note that the obligations imposed on the farmers after expiration of the Thys patents included not only the payment of royalties, but also an agreement not to move the machines out of Yakima County. Yet this point is seldom raised in the critiques of Brulotte. What is its significance, and how does it support the Court’s holding?
3. Per se vs. rule of reason. In Kimble, Kimble asks the Court to replace the per se rule of Brulotte with the more flexible “rule of reason” approach adopted in most antitrust cases today. We will discuss the differences between per se and rule of reason approaches in greater detail in Chapter 25. But for now, consider why Justice Kagan declined this invitation.
4. A market power requirement? In Scheiber v. Dolby Laboratories, Inc., 293 F.3d 1014 (7th Cir. 2002), a licensor seeking to charge post-expiration royalties argued that under 35 U.S.C. § 271(d)(5) he could be found to have engaged in patent misuse only if he possessed “market power in the market for the conditioning product.” Judge Posner responded, correctly, that § 271(d)(5) only applies by its terms to tying-type patent misuse. But should the statute be so limited? Should the market power requirement of § 271(d)(5) be extended to other forms of patent misuse, such as the type of term-extension misuse alleged in Brulotte and Kimble?
5. Effects on innovation. Kimble argued that retaining the Brulotte rule would discourage technological innovation. Why? Justice Kagan seems skeptical of his theory. How convincing do you find it?
6. Patent vs. contract. Justice Alito, who wrote a dissenting opinion in Kimble, returns to the well-worn debate over the nature of IP licenses: whether they are interests in property or contracts (see Chapter 3). As Justice Alito writes, “A licensing agreement that provides for the payment of royalties after a patent’s term expires does not enlarge the patentee’s monopoly or extend the term of the patent. It simply gives the licensor a contractual right.” Why is this distinction important?
7. Drafting around Brulotte. Marvel argues that contracting parties depend on the rule in Brulotte when drafting their licensing agreements. “Some parties, it claims, do not specify an end date for royalties in their licensing agreements, instead relying on Brulotte as a default rule … Overturning Brulotte would thus upset expectations, most so when long-dormant licenses for long-expired patents spring back to life.” How much credence do you give to this argument? Would it be a good practice to draft a licensing agreement with no end date in reliance on a case that prohibits the payment of royalties after the expiration of the licensed patents?
8. The Brulotte windfall. In Kimble, Justice Kagan writes that Marvel “stumbled” across Brulotte, implying that neither party was aware of the case when they drafted the settlement agreement including the perpetual royalty clause. Does this matter? What if Marvel, a large corporation represented by high-priced lawyers, did know about Brulotte, but simply allowed Kimble, a garage inventor, to enter into an invalid agreement. Would this change the outcome? Recall Chief Justice Stone’s comment in Morton Salt that “equity does not demand that its suitors shall have led blameless lives.” Does that sentiment apply here as well?
9. Hybrid licensing. In Kimble, Justice Kagan explains how parties can easily avoid the problems imposed by Brulotte through contractual drafting. We discussed one of these techniques in Section 8.2.2.4 – hybrid rates, in which the license covers both patents and unpatented know-how, and the combined royalty rate is lower in jurisdictions, and at times, that no patents are in force. What other drafting techniques does Justice Kagan imply might avoid the Brulotte rule?
24.3.2 The Limits of Brulotte: Aronson v. Quick Point and Unpatented Articles
Not long after the Supreme Court’s decision in Brulotte, the Court considered another case – Aronson v. Quick Point Pencil Co., 440 U.S. 257 (1979) – that quietly established the outer limits of the Brulotte misuse doctrine. In 1955, Jane Aronson filed a patent application for a novel form of keyholder into which a photo or corporate logo could be inserted. While the patent application was pending, she negotiated a contract for the manufacture and sale of the keyholder with a St. Louis-based office supply manufacturer, Quick Point Pencil Co. The relevant facts are set forth by the district court:
On June 26, 1956, [Aronson] entered into an agreement with [Quick Point] which gives [Quick Point] the exclusive license and right to make and sell key holders of the type shown in [Aronson’s] patent application … which was filed with the United States Patent Office on October 25, 1955 … The agreement was amended on June 27, 1956. The agreement provides that [Quick Point] would pay [Aronson] royalties at the rate of 5 percent and if no patent was issued within five years of June 27, 1956 the royalties would be reduced to 2½ percent “as long as [Quick Point] continue[s] to sell the same.”
[Quick Point] commenced manufacturing key holders in July of 1956 and paid a five percent royalty on gross sales until June 26, 1961, when the royalty was reduced to two and one-half percent. On that date [Aronson] had not been granted a patent …
On January 27, 1959, the parties executed a supplementary agreement, which provided for royalties on key holders sold in combination with rulers, watches and other items. This agreement did not otherwise alter any terms of the original agreements.
[Quick Point] paid royalties … in excess of $200,000.00 from July 9, 1957 to September, 1975.Footnote 15
[O]n September 27, 1961, the Board of Patent Appeals held this was an unpatentable invention.Footnote 16
In 1975, Quick Point sought a declaratory judgment that the royalty agreement was unenforceable. The Eighth Circuit agreed. Citing Brulotte, it reasoned that “if Aronson actually had obtained a patent, Quick Point would have escaped its royalty obligations either if the patent were held to be invalid or upon its expiration after 17 years. Accordingly, it concluded that a licensee should be relieved of royalty obligations when the licensor’s efforts to obtain a contemplated patent prove unsuccessful.”
The Supreme Court reversed. Chief Justice Burger explained:
No decision of this Court relating to patents justifies relieving Quick Point of its contract obligations. We have held that a state may not forbid the copying of an idea in the public domain which does not meet the requirements for federal patent protection. Enforcement of Quick Point’s agreement, however, does not prevent anyone from copying the keyholder. It merely requires Quick Point to pay the consideration which it promised in return for the use of a novel device which enabled it to preempt the market.
The Court’s move here is an interesting one. Rather than characterizing the royalty payable to Aronson as an impermissible expansion of the nonexistent patent right that she never obtained, the Court treats the agreement as dealing entirely with nonpatent matters. As a result, the federal patent law doctrine of misuse is wholly inapplicable to her arrangement with Quick Point. As Chief Justice Burger further explains:
On this record it is clear that the parties contracted with full awareness of both the pendency of a patent application and the possibility that a patent might not issue. The clause de-escalating the royalty by half in the event no patent issued within five years makes that crystal clear. Quick Point apparently placed a significant value on exploiting the basic novelty of the device, even if no patent issued; its success demonstrates that this judgment was well founded. Assuming, arguendo, that the initial letter and the commitment to pay a 5% royalty was subject to federal patent law, the provision relating to the 2 1/2% royalty was explicitly independent of federal law. The cases and principles relied on by the Court of Appeals and Quick Point [e.g., Brulotte – Ed.] do not bear on a contract that does not rely on a patent, particularly where, as here, the contracting parties agreed expressly as to alternative obligations if no patent should issue.
Commercial agreements traditionally are the domain of state law. State law is not displaced merely because the contract relates to intellectual property which may or may not be patentable; the states are free to regulate the use of such intellectual property in any manner not inconsistent with federal law. In this as in other fields, the question of whether federal law preempts state law “involves a consideration of whether that law stands as an obstacle to the accomplishment and execution of the full purposes and objectives of Congress.” Kewanee Oil Co. v. Bicron Corp., 416 U. S. 470, 479 (1974). If it does not, state law governs.
In Kewanee Oil Co., we reviewed the purposes of the federal patent system. First, patent law seeks to foster and reward invention; second, it promotes disclosure of inventions to stimulate further innovation and to permit the public to practice the invention once the patent expires; third, the stringent requirements for patent protection seek to assure that ideas in the public domain remain there for the free use of the public.
Enforcement of Quick Point’s agreement with Aronson is not inconsistent with any of these aims. Permitting inventors to make enforceable agreements licensing the use of their inventions in return for royalties provides an additional incentive to invention. Similarly, encouraging Aronson to make arrangements for the manufacture of her keyholder furthers the federal policy of disclosure of inventions; these simple devices display the novel idea which they embody wherever they are seen.
Notes and Questions
1. Royalties without patents. In Brulotte, Thys Co. was found liable for patent misuse by charging royalties after its patents had expired – when the patented inventions were in the public domain. But in Aronson, the Court held that Aronson was entitled to charge Quick Point a royalty on her invention, even though it was never patented. How does the Supreme Court’s decision in Aronson square with Brulotte?
2. Fixing Brulotte. Given the decision in Aronson, how might you advise Thys Co. today regarding contractual wording that would accomplish its business goals without constituting patent misuse?
3. When patents come and go. In Aronson, the Court holds that the contract between Aronson and Quick Point was governed by principles of state contract law, as no patent had ever issued. But what if a patent had issued? Presumably, federal law would govern the contract while the patent was in force. But what if the patent were found invalid by a court five years after its issuance? Would state contract law then become applicable, or is the rule “once federal, always federal”? Under this hypothetical, would Aronson be entitled to charge Quick Point a royalty at the reduced rate after the patent was invalidated? If so, why didn’t that approach work for Thys in Brulotte?
4. No-challenge clauses as patent misuse? In a 2010 article, the authors speculate whether a licensor’s use of a “no-challenge” clause in a patent licensing agreement (discussed in Section 22.4) should be interpreted as an act of patent misuse.Footnote 17 As noted in Section 22.4, no-challenge clauses in ordinary patent licensing agreements are generally unenforceable under the Supreme Court’s precedent in Lear v. Adkins. But as discussed in this chapter, a finding of misuse has far greater ramifications for the patent holder, including the broad unenforceability of the patent against others. How might a no-challenge clause potentially fit within the rubric of patent misuse? Do you think that the existence of such a clause in a licensing agreement, whether or not enforced, should constitute misuse? What about other types of clauses discouraging licensees from challenging patents (see Section 22.4.3)?
24.4 Misuse by Bundling: Package Licensing
A third form of potential patent misuse arose when the early patent aggregator and licensing entity Hazeltine Research began to license a large portfolio of patents to manufacturers in the electronics and broadcast industries beginning in the 1940s. Below are two leading cases involving Hazeltine’s “package” licenses of large portfolios of patents.
339 U.S. 827 (1950)
MINTON, JUSTICE
This is a suit by respondent Hazeltine Research, Inc., as assignee of the licensor’s interest in a nonexclusive patent license agreement covering a group of 570 patents and 200 applications, against petitioner Automatic Radio Manufacturing Company, Inc., the licensee, to recover royalties. The patents and applications are related to the manufacture of radio broadcasting apparatus. Respondent and its corporate affiliate and predecessor have for some twenty years been engaged in research, development, engineering design and testing and consulting services in the radio field. Respondent derives income from the licensing of its patents, its policy being to license any and all responsible manufacturers of radio apparatus at a royalty rate which for many years has been approximately one percent. Petitioner manufactures radio apparatus, particularly radio broadcasting receivers.
The license agreement in issue, which appears to be a standard Hazeltine license, was entered into by the parties in September 1942, for a term of ten years. By its terms petitioner acquired permission to use, in the manufacture of its “home” products, any or all of the patents which respondent held or to which it might acquire rights. Petitioner was not, however, obligated to use respondent’s patents in the manufacture of its products. For this license, petitioner agreed to pay respondent’s assignor royalties based upon a small percentage of petitioner’s selling price of complete radio broadcasting receivers, and in any event a minimum of $ 10,000 per year.
This suit was brought to recover the minimum royalty due for the year ending August 31, 1946, for an accounting of other sums due, and for other relief. The District Court … sustained the motion of respondent for judgment. The validity of the license agreement was upheld against various charges of misuse of the patents, and judgment was entered for the recovery of royalties and an accounting, and for a permanent injunction restraining petitioner from failing to pay royalties, to keep records, and to render reports during the life of the agreement. The Court of Appeals affirmed, and we granted certiorari in order to consider important questions concerning patent misuse and estoppel to challenge the validity of licensed patents.
The questions for determination are whether a misuse of patents has been shown, and whether petitioner may contest the validity of the licensed patents, in order to avoid its obligation to pay royalties under the agreement.
It is insisted that the license agreement cannot be enforced because it is a misuse of patents to require the licensee to pay royalties based on its sales, even though none of the patents are used. Petitioner directs our attention to the “Tie-in” cases. These cases have condemned schemes requiring the purchase of unpatented goods for use with patented apparatus or processes, prohibiting production or sale of competing goods, and conditioning the granting of a license under one patent upon the acceptance of another and different license. Petitioner apparently concedes that these cases do not, on their facts, control the instant situation. It is obvious that they do not. There is present here no requirement for the purchase of any goods. Hazeltine does not even manufacture or sell goods; it is engaged solely in research activities. Nor is there any prohibition as to the licensee’s manufacture or sale of any type of apparatus. The fact that the license agreement covers only “home” apparatus does not mean that the licensee is prohibited from manufacturing or selling other apparatus. And finally, there is no conditioning of the license grant upon the acceptance of another and different license.
But petitioner urges that this case “is identical in principle” with the “Tie-in” cases. It is contended that the licensing provision requiring royalty payments of a percentage of the sales of the licensee’s products constitutes a misuse of patents because it ties in a payment on unpatented goods. That which is condemned as against public policy by the “Tie-in” cases is the extension of the monopoly of the patent to create another monopoly or restraint of competition – a restraint not countenanced by the patent grant. See, e. g., Mercoid Corp. v. Mid-Continent Investment Co., 320 U.S. 661, Morton Salt Co. v. Suppiger Co., 314 U.S. 488. The principle of those cases cannot be contorted to circumscribe the instant situation. This royalty provision does not create another monopoly; it creates no restraint of competition beyond the legitimate grant of the patent. The right to a patent includes the right to market the use of the patent at a reasonable return.
The licensing agreement in issue was characterized by the District Court as essentially a grant by Hazeltine to petitioner of a privilege to use any patent or future development of Hazeltine in consideration of the payment of royalties. Payment for the privilege is required regardless of use of the patents. The royalty provision of the licensing agreement was sustained by the District Court and the Court of Appeals on the theory that it was a convenient mode of operation designed by the parties to avoid the necessity of determining whether each type of petitioner’s product embodies any of the numerous Hazeltine patents. The Court of Appeals reasoned that since it would not be unlawful to agree to pay a fixed sum for the privilege to use patents, it was not unlawful to provide a variable consideration measured by a percentage of the licensee’s sales for the same privilege.
The mere accumulation of patents, no matter how many, is not in and of itself illegal. And this record simply does not support incendiary, yet vague, charges that respondent uses its accumulation of patents “for the exaction of tribute” and collects royalties “by means of the overpowering threat of disastrous litigation.” We cannot say that payment of royalties according to an agreed percentage of the licensee’s sales is unreasonable. Sound business judgment could indicate that such payment represents the most convenient method of fixing the business value of the privileges granted by the licensing agreement. We are not unmindful that convenience cannot justify an extension of the monopoly of the patent. But as we have already indicated, there is in this royalty provision no inherent extension of the monopoly of the patent. Petitioner cannot complain because it must pay royalties whether it uses Hazeltine patents or not. What it acquired by the agreement into which it entered was the privilege to use any or all of the patents and developments as it desired to use them. If it chooses to use none of them, it has nevertheless contracted to pay for the privilege of using existing patents plus any developments resulting from respondent’s continuous research. We hold that in licensing the use of patents to one engaged in a related enterprise, it is not per se a misuse of patents to measure the consideration by a percentage of the licensee’s sales.
The judgment of the Court of Appeals is Affirmed.
MR. JUSTICE DOUGLAS, with whom MR. JUSTICE BLACK concurs, dissenting.
We are, I think, inclined to forget that the power of Congress to grant patents is circumscribed by the Constitution. The patent power, of all legislative powers, is indeed the only one whose purpose is defined. Article I, § 8 describes the power as one “To promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts, by securing for limited Times to Authors and Inventors the exclusive Right to their respective Writings and Discoveries.” This statement of policy limits the power itself.
The Court in its long history has at times been more alive to that policy than at other times. During the last three decades it has been as devoted to it (if not more so) than at any time in its history. I think that was due in large measure to the influence of Mr. Justice Brandeis and Chief Justice Stone. They were alert to the danger that business – growing bigger and bigger each decade – would fasten its hold more tightly on the economy through the cheap spawning of patents and would use one monopoly to beget another through the leverage of key patents. They followed in the early tradition of those who read the Constitution to mean that the public interest in patents comes first, reward to the inventor second.
Mr. Justice Brandeis and Chief Justice Stone did not fashion but they made more secure one important rule designed to curb the use of patents. It is as follows: One who holds a patent on article A may not license the use of the patent on condition that B, an unpatented article, be bought. Such a contract or agreement would be an extension of the grant of the patent contrary to a long line of decisions. For it would sweep under the patent an article that is unpatented or unpatentable. Each patent owner would become his own patent office and, by reason of the leverage of the patent, obtain a larger monopoly of the market than the Constitution or statutes permit.
That is what is done here. Hazeltine licensed Automatic Radio to use 570 patents and 200 patent applications. Of these Automatic used at most 10. Automatic Radio was obligated, however, to pay as royalty a percentage of its total sales in certain lines without regard to whether or not the products sold were patented or unpatented. The inevitable result is that the patentee received royalties on unpatented products as part of the price for the use of the patents.
The patent owner has therefore used the patents to bludgeon his way into a partnership with this licensee, collecting royalties on unpatented as well as patented articles.
A plainer extension of a patent by unlawful means would be hard to imagine.
395 U.S. 100 (1969)
WHITE, JUSTICE
Petitioner Zenith Radio Corporation (Zenith) is a Delaware Corporation which for many years has been successfully engaged in the business of manufacturing radio and television sets for sale in the United States and foreign countries. A necessary incident of Zenith’s operations has been the acquisition of licenses to use patented devices in the radios and televisions it manufactures, and its transactions have included licensing agreements with respondent Hazeltine Research, Inc. (HRI), an Illinois corporation which owns and licenses domestic patents, principally in the radio and television fields.
Until 1959, Zenith had obtained the right to use all HRI domestic patents under HRI’s so-called standard package license. In that year, however, with the expiration of Zenith’s license imminent, Zenith declined to accept HRI’s offer to renew, asserting that it no longer required a license from HRI. Negotiations proceeded to a stalemate, and in November 1959, HRI brought suit in the Northern District of Illinois, claiming that Zenith television sets infringed HRI’s patents on a particular automatic control system. Zenith’s answer alleged invalidity of the patent asserted and noninfringement, and further alleged that HRI’s claim was unenforceable because of patent misuse as well as unclean hands through conspiracy with foreign patent pools. On May 22, 1963, more than three years after its answer had been filed, Zenith filed a counterclaim against HRI for treble damages and injunctive relief, alleging violations of the Sherman Act by misuse of HRI patents, including the one in suit …
The District Court, sitting without a jury, ruled for Zenith in the infringement action … On the counterclaim, the District Court ruled, first that HRI had misused its domestic patents by attempting to coerce Zenith’s acceptance of a five-year package license, and by insisting on extracting royalties from unpatented products.
With respect to Zenith’s patent misuse claim, the Court of Appeals affirmed the treble-damage award against HRI, but modified in certain respects the District Court’s injunction against further misuse.
We granted certiorari.
[The] only misuse issue we need consider at length is whether the Court of Appeals was correct in striking the last clause from Paragraph A of the injunction, which enjoined HRI from
Conditioning directly or indirectly the grant of a license to defendant-counterclaimant, Zenith Radio Corporation, or any of its subsidiaries, under any domestic patent upon the taking of a license under any other patent or upon the paying of royalties on the manufacture, use or sale of apparatus not covered by such patent.
This paragraph of the injunction was directed at HRI’s policy of insisting upon acceptance of its standard five-year package license agreement, covering the 500-odd patents within its domestic licensing portfolio and reserving royalties of the licensee’s total radio and television sales, irrespective of whether the licensed patents were actually used in the products manufactured.
In striking the last clause of Paragraph A the Court of Appeals, in effect, made two determinations. First, under its view of Automatic Radio Mfg. Co. v. Hazeltine Research, Inc., 339 U.S. 827 (1950), conditioning the grant of a patent license upon payment of royalties on unpatented products was not misuse of the patent. [W]e reverse the Court of Appeals. We hold that conditioning the grant of a patent license upon payment of royalties on products which do not use the teaching of the patent does amount to patent misuse.
The trial court’s injunction does not purport to prevent the parties from serving their mutual convenience by basing royalties on the sale of all radios and television sets, irrespective of the use of HRI’s inventions. The injunction reaches only situations where the patentee directly or indirectly “conditions” his license upon the payment of royalties on unpatented products – that is, where the patentee refuses to license on any other basis and leaves the licensee with the choice between a license so providing and no license at all. Also, the injunction takes effect only if the license is conditioned upon the payment of royalties “on” merchandise not covered by the patent – where the express provisions of the license or their necessary effect is to employ the patent monopoly to collect royalties, not for the use of the licensed invention, but for using, making, or selling an article not within the reach of the patent.
A patentee has the exclusive right to manufacture, use, and sell his invention. The heart of his legal monopoly is the right to invoke the State’s power to prevent others from utilizing his discovery without his consent. The law also recognizes that he may assign to another his patent, in whole or in part, and may license others to practice his invention. But there are established limits which the patentee must not exceed in employing the leverage of his patent to control or limit the operations of the licensee. Among other restrictions upon him, he may not condition the right to use his patent on the licensee’s agreement to purchase, use, or sell, or not to purchase, use, or sell, another article of commerce not within the scope of his patent monopoly. His right to set the price for a license does not extend so far, whatever privilege he has “to exact royalties as high as he can negotiate.” And just as the patent’s leverage may not be used to extract from the licensee a commitment to purchase, use, or sell other products according to the desires of the patentee, neither can that leverage be used to garner as royalties a percentage share of the licensee’s receipts from sales of other products; in either case, the patentee seeks to extend the monopoly of his patent to derive a benefit not attributable to use of the patent’s teachings.
In Brulotte v. Thys Co., the patentee licensed the use of a patented machine, the license providing for the payment of a royalty for using the invention after, as well as before, the expiration date of the patent. Recognizing that the patentee could lawfully charge a royalty for practicing a patented invention prior to its expiration date and that the payment of this royalty could be postponed beyond that time, we noted that the post-expiration royalties were not for prior use but for current use, and were nothing less than an effort by the patentee to extend the term of his monopoly beyond that granted by law. Brulotte thus articulated in a particularized context the principle that a patentee may not use the power of his patent to levy a charge for making, using, or selling products not within the reach of the monopoly granted by the Government.
Automatic Radio is not to the contrary; it is not authority for the proposition that patentees have carte blanche authority to condition the grant of patent licenses upon the payment of royalties on unpatented articles.
The Court’s opinion in Automatic Radio did not deal with the license negotiations which spawned the royalty formula at issue and did not indicate that HRI used its patent leverage to coerce a promise to pay royalties on radios not practicing the learning of the patent. No such inference follows from a mere license provision measuring royalties by the licensee’s total sales even if, as things work out, only some or none of the merchandise employs the patented idea or process, or even if it was foreseeable that some undetermined portion would not contain the invention. It could easily be, as the Court indicated in Automatic Radio, that the licensee as well as the patentee would find it more convenient and efficient from several standpoints to base royalties on total sales than to face the burden of figuring royalties based on actual use. If convenience of the parties rather than patent power dictates the total-sales royalty provision, there is no misuse of the patents and no forbidden conditions attached to the license.
The Court also said in Automatic Radio that if the licensee bargains for the privilege of using the patent in all of his products and agrees to a lump sum or a percentage-of-total-sales royalty, he cannot escape payment on this basis by demonstrating that he is no longer using the invention disclosed by the patent. We neither disagree nor think such transactions are barred by the trial court’s injunction. If the licensee negotiates for “the privilege to use any or all of the patents and developments as [he] desire[s] to use them,” he cannot complain that he must pay royalties if he chooses to use none of them. He could not then charge that the patentee had refused to license except on the basis of a total-sales royalty.
But we do not read Automatic Radio to authorize the patentee to use the power of his patent to insist on a total-sales royalty and to override protestations of the licensee that some of his products are unsuited to the patent or that for some lines of his merchandise he has no need or desire to purchase the privileges of the patent. In such event, not only would royalties be collected on unpatented merchandise, but the obligation to pay for nonuse would clearly have its source in the leverage of the patent.
We also think patent misuse inheres in a patentee’s insistence on a percentage-of-sales royalty, regardless of use, and his rejection of licensee proposals to pay only for actual use. Unquestionably, a licensee must pay if he uses the patent. Equally, however, he may insist upon paying only for use, and not on the basis of total sales, including products in which he may use a competing patent or in which no patented ideas are used at all. There is nothing in the right granted the patentee to keep others from using, selling, or manufacturing his invention which empowers him to insist on payment not only for use but also for producing products which do not employ his discoveries at all.
Of course, a licensee cannot expect to obtain a license, giving him the privilege of use and insurance against infringement suits, without at least footing the patentee’s expenses in dealing with him. He cannot insist upon paying on use alone and perhaps, as things turn out, pay absolutely nothing because he finds he can produce without using the patent. If the risks of infringement are real and he would avoid them, he must anticipate some minimum charge for the license – enough to insure the patentee against loss in negotiating and administering his monopoly, even if in fact the patent is not used at all. But we discern no basis in the statutory monopoly granted the patentee for his using that monopoly to coerce an agreement to pay a percentage royalty on merchandise not employing the discovery which the claims of the patent define.
Judgment of Court of Appeals affirmed in part and reversed in part, and case remanded.
MR. JUSTICE HARLAN, dissenting in part.
I do not join Part III [of the Court’s opinion], in which the Court holds that a patent license provision which measures royalties by a percentage of the licensee’s total sales is lawful if included for the “convenience” of both parties but unlawful if “insisted upon” by the patentee.
My first difficulty with this part of the opinion is that its test for validity of such royalty provisions is likely to prove exceedingly difficult to apply and consequently is apt to engender uncertainty in this area of business dealing, where certainty in the law is particularly desirable. In practice, it often will be very hard to tell whether a license provision was included at the instance of both parties or only at the will of the licensor. District courts will have the unenviable task of deciding whether the course of negotiations establishes “insistence” upon the suspect provision. Because of the uncertainty inherent in such determinations, parties to existing and future licenses will have little assurance that their agreements will be enforced. And it may be predicted that after today’s decision the licensor will be careful to embellish the negotiations with an alternative proposal, making the court’s unraveling of the situation that much more difficult.
Such considerations lead me to the view that any rule which causes the validity of percentage-of-sales royalty provisions to depend upon subsequent judicial examination of the parties’ negotiations will disserve rather than further the interests of all concerned. Hence, I think that the Court has fallen short in failing to address itself to the question whether employment of such royalty provisions should invariably amount to patent misuse.
[A] possible justification for the Court’s result might be that a royalty based directly upon use of the patent will tend to spur the licensee to “invent around” the patent or otherwise acquire a substitute which costs less, while a percentage-of-sales royalty can have no such effect because of the licensee’s knowledge that he must pay the royalty regardless of actual patent use. No hint of such a rationale appears in the Court’s opinion. Moreover, under this theory a percentage-of-sales royalty would be objectionable largely because of resulting damage to the rest of the economy, through less efficient allocation of resources, rather than because of possible harm to the licensee. Hence, the theory might not admit of the Court’s exception for provisions included for the “convenience” of both parties.
Because of its failure to explain the reasons for the result reached … the Court’s opinion is of little assistance in answering the question which I consider to be the crux of this part of the case: whether percentage-of-sales royalty provisions should be held without exception to constitute patent misuse. A recent economic analysis argues that such provisions may have two undesirable consequences. First, as has already been noted, employment of such provisions may tend to reduce the licensee’s incentive to substitute other, cheaper “inputs” for the patented item in producing an unpatented end-product. Failure of the licensee to substitute will, it is said, cause the price of the end-product to be higher and its output lower than would be the case if substitution had occurred. Second, it is suggested that under certain conditions a percentage-of-sales royalty arrangement may enable the patentee to garner for himself elements of profit, above the norm for the industry or economy, which are properly attributable not to the licensee’s use of the patent but to other factors which cause the licensee’s situation to differ from one of “perfect competition,” and that this cannot occur when royalties are based upon use.
If accepted, this economic analysis would indicate that percentage-of-sales royalties should be entirely outlawed. However, so far as I have been able to find, there has as yet been little discussion of these matters either by lawyers or by economists. And I find scant illumination on this score in the briefs and arguments of the parties in this case. The Court has pointed out both today and in Automatic Radio that percentage-of-sales royalties may be administratively advantageous for both patentee and licensee. In these circumstances, confronted, as I believe we are, with the choice of holding such royalty provisions either valid or invalid across the board, I would, as an individual member of the Court, adhere for the present to the rule of Automatic Radio.
Notes and Questions
1. Total sales royalties. How is the royalty payable to Hazeltine calculated in each of Automatic Radio and Zenith, and why does the licensee in each case contend that it constitutes patent misuse?
2. Convenience versus compulsion. The Court in Zenith distinguishes its earlier decision in Automatic Radio by drawing a fine line between “total sales” royalties that are established for the “convenience of the parties” (not misuse) versus those on which the licensor “insists” (misuse). In his dissent, Justice Harlan observes that “District courts will have the unenviable task of deciding whether the course of negotiations establishes ‘insistence’ upon the suspect provision,” and that “[b]ecause of the uncertainty inherent in such determinations, parties to existing and future licenses will have little assurance that their agreements will be enforced.” As a result, Justice Harlan argued that package licensing should be “either valid or invalid across the board.” Do you agree with Justice Harlan’s assessment, or are you comfortable with the majority’s confidence in courts’ ability to differentiate between these two modes of conduct? If you were representing a licensor of a large portfolio of patents, how would you advise it to approach the negotiation of its royalties with prospective licensees?
3. A preferred payment? Justices Douglas and Black dissented from the Court’s opinion in Automatic Radio. Among other things, they expressed concern that Hazeltine licensed, and required Automatic Radio to pay for, 570 patents and 200 patent applications, of which Automatic Radio used “at most 10.” But on what basis would they have preferred Automatic Radio to pay for the use of Hazeltine’s patents? Should patent aggregators like Hazeltine be required to price patents on an à la carte basis? Is that reasonable when hundreds or, today, thousands of patents are involved in a single license?
4. Inverse dissents? Automatic Radio and Zenith are viewed, in many respects, like inverse images of one another. In addition to many other similarities, each decision drew a pointed dissent. But did the Court in Zenith adopt the reasoning of the dissent in Automatic Radio, or vice versa? Why not?
5. Package licensing and market power. As noted above, in 1988 Congress enacted the Patent Misuse Reform Act, which added “market power” to the elements required to find patent misuse of the tying variety (codified at 35 U.S.C. § 271(d)(5)). This market power requirement also applies to package licensing misuse (i.e., conditioning the license of any rights to a patent on the acquisition of a license to rights in another patent). Yet the enactment of § 271(d)(5) does not seem to have substantially altered the convenience vs. compulsion test established under Automatic Radio and Zenith.Footnote 18 How would § 271(d)(5) have affected the analysis in each of these cases had it been enacted at the time of the licenses in question?
6. Package licensing and incentives. In his dissent in Zenith, Justice Harlan offers up an alternative rationale supporting the majority’s decision: that allowing package licenses will decrease a licensee’s incentive to “invent around” the licensed patents or to employ substitute and cheaper technologies in its products, resulting in decreased innovation and higher consumer prices.Footnote 19 Why does Justice Harlan believe that this result is possible? Why didn’t the majority rely on this line of reasoning in its own opinion?
7. Patent misuse and irrationality. Professor Mark Lemley has written:
[T]he patent misuse doctrine is indefensible from an economic standpoint for several reasons. First, the sanction imposed bears no relation to the injury caused. Second, the sanction duplicates antitrust remedies in many cases, leading to an excessive level of deterrence. Third, the doctrine often pays the sanction as a windfall to an unrelated third party, thereby encouraging infringement while failing to compensate those actually injured. These economic problems lead one seriously to question the continued vitality of the patent misuse doctrine as a whole.
What are examples of each of Professor Lemley’s three specific critiques of the patent misuse doctrine? Do you agree that the patent misuse doctrine should be abolished?
8. Packaged patents and standards. The Federal Circuit considered patent misuse in a series of cases involving the alleged infringement by compact disc manufacturer Princo of a group of pooled patents covering the CD-R and CD-RW standards. In one such case, U.S. Philips Corp. v. ITC, 424 F.3d 1179 (Fed. Cir. 2005), Princo asserted that Philips (the administrator of the relevant patent pools) committed patent misuse by offering to license all of the pooled patents as a single package, without the option to license individual patents separately. In other words, by tying undesired patents to desired patents. The International Trade Commission (ITC) found misuse by tying, but the Federal Circuit reversed, reasoning that package licensing does not constitute patent misuse per se because it potentially reduces transaction costs and creates other efficiencies, and thus does not lack any redeeming value (the general standard for per se illegality). Likewise, the Federal Circuit reversed the ITC’s finding of patent misuse under the “rule of reason” because the ITC “failed to consider the efficiencies that package licensing may produce.” The court further noted that when “a patentholder has a package of patents, all of which are necessary to enable a licensee to practice particular technology, it is well established that the patentee may lawfully insist on licensing the patents as a package and may refuse to license them individually, since the group of patents could not reasonably be viewed as distinct products.” That is, if all packaged patents are essential to the particular standard, then, in theory, all of the packaged patents should be considered part of the same tying product, hence offering them together cannot constitute misuse. However, if some patents not essential to the standard are included in the package, misuse may again be possible. This is among the reasons that antitrust authorities have generally recommended that patent pools include only patents that are complements (essential to a particular standard or technology), and not substitutes. See Sections 26.3 and 26.4.
9. Packaging non-essential patents. In Philips, Princo also alleged that some of the pooled patents were not actually essential to the relevant CD standards. The Federal Circuit, acknowledging this possibility, reasoned that “in a fast-developing field such as the one at issue in this case, it seems quite likely that questions will arise over time, such as what constitutes an ‘essential’ patent,” and that per se liability for patent misuse should not arise due to technological changes that were not foreseeable at the time of licensing. And with respect to the analysis under the rule of reason, “evidence did not show that including those patents in the patent packages had a negative effect on commercially available technology” – in effect, Princo did not meet its burden of establishing a sufficient anticompetitive harm. As a result, the alleged nonessentiality of some of the pooled patents did not give rise to liability for patent misuse in this case, though the Federal Circuit did not rule out the prospect of such liability upon a sufficient showing of evidence. What evidence might this be?
Enforcement against non-patented components: not misuse (§ 271(d)(1)–(3) [1952])
Refusal to license: not misuse (§ 271(d)(4) [1988])
Tying: rule of reason, requires market power (§ 271(d)(5) [1988])
Package licensing: permitted for mutual convenience, so long as there is no compulsion (Automatic Radio, Zenith), requires market power (§ 271(d)(5) [1988])
Unpatented articles: no misuse (Aronson)
24.5 Noncompetition and Copyright Misuse
Misuse of IP is not entirely limited to the patent world. Though far fewer in number, there have been cases involving the misuse of copyrights as well.
911 F.2d 970 (4th Cir. 1990)
SPROUSE, CIRCUIT JUDGE
Appellants and defendants below are Larry Holliday, president and sole shareholder of Holiday Steel Rule Die Corporation (Holiday Steel), and Job Reynolds, a computer programmer for that company. Appellee is Lasercomb America, Inc. (Lasercomb), the plaintiff below. Holiday Steel and Lasercomb were competitors in the manufacture of steel rule dies that are used to cut and score paper and cardboard for folding into boxes and cartons. Lasercomb developed a software program, Interact, which is the object of the dispute between the parties. Using this program, a designer creates a template of a cardboard cutout on a computer screen and the software directs the mechanized creation of the conforming steel rule die.
In 1983, before Lasercomb was ready to market its Interact program generally, it licensed four prerelease copies to Holiday Steel which paid $35,000 for the first copy, $17,500 each for the next two copies, and $2,000 for the fourth copy. Lasercomb informed Holiday Steel that it would charge $2,000 for each additional copy Holiday Steel cared to purchase. Apparently ambitious to create for itself an even better deal, Holiday Steel circumvented the protective devices Lasercomb had provided with the software and made three unauthorized copies of Interact which it used on its computer systems. Perhaps buoyed by its success in copying, Holiday Steel then created a software program called “PDS-1000,” which was almost entirely a direct copy of Interact, and marketed it as its own CAD/CAM die-making software. These infringing activities were accomplished by Job Reynolds at the direction of Larry Holliday.
There is no question that defendants engaged in unauthorized copying, and the purposefulness of their unlawful action is manifest from their deceptive practices … When Lasercomb discovered Holiday Steel’s activities, it registered its copyright in Interact and filed this action against Holiday Steel, Holliday, and Reynolds on March 7, 1986. Lasercomb claimed copyright infringement, breach of contract, misappropriation of trade secret, false designation of origin, unfair competition, and fraud. Defendants filed a number of counterclaims. On March 24, 1986, the district court entered a preliminary injunction, enjoining defendants from marketing the PDS-1000 software.
Holliday and Reynolds [do] not dispute that they copied Interact, but they contend that Lasercomb is barred from recovery for infringement by its concomitant culpability. They assert that, assuming Lasercomb had a perfected copyright, it impermissibly abused it. This assertion of the “misuse of copyright” defense is based on language in Lasercomb’s standard licensing agreement, restricting licensees from creating any of their own CAD/CAM die-making software.
The offending paragraphs read:
D. Licensee agrees during the term of this Agreement that it will not permit or suffer its directors, officers and employees, directly or indirectly, to write, develop, produce or sell computer assisted die making software.
E. Licensee agrees during the term of this Agreement and for one (1) year after the termination of this Agreement, that it will not write, develop, produce or sell or assist others in the writing, developing, producing or selling computer assisted die making software, directly or indirectly without Lasercomb’s prior written consent. Any such activity undertaken without Lasercomb’s written consent shall nullify any warranties or agreements of Lasercomb set forth herein.
The “term of this Agreement” referred to in these clauses is ninety-nine years.
Defendants were not themselves bound by the standard licensing agreement. Lasercomb had sent the agreement to Holiday Steel with a request that it be signed and returned. Larry Holliday, however, decided not to sign the document, and Lasercomb apparently overlooked the fact that the document had not been returned. Although defendants were not party to the restrictions of which they complain, they proved at trial that at least one Interact licensee had entered into the standard agreement, including the anticompetitive language.
The district court rejected the copyright misuse defense for three reasons. First, it noted that defendants had not explicitly agreed to the contract clauses alleged to constitute copyright misuse. Second, it found “such a clause is reasonable in light of the delicate and sensitive area of computer software.” And, third, it questioned whether such a defense exists. We consider the district court’s reasoning in reverse order.
The philosophy behind copyright … is that the public benefits from the efforts of authors to introduce new ideas and knowledge into the public domain. To encourage such efforts, society grants authors exclusive rights in their works for a limited time.
Although the patent misuse defense has been generally recognized since Morton Salt, it has been much less certain whether an analogous copyright misuse defense exists. This uncertainty persists because no United States Supreme Court decision has firmly established a copyright misuse defense in a manner analogous to the establishment of the patent misuse defense by Morton Salt. The few courts considering the issue have split on whether the defense should be recognized, and we have discovered only one case which has actually applied copyright misuse to bar an action for infringement.
We are of the view, however, that since copyright and patent law serve parallel public interests, a “misuse” defense should apply to infringement actions brought to vindicate either right.
[And] while it is true that the attempted use of a copyright to violate antitrust law probably would give rise to a misuse of copyright defense, the converse is not necessarily true – a misuse need not be a violation of antitrust law in order to comprise an equitable defense to an infringement action. The question is not whether the copyright is being used in a manner violative of antitrust law (such as whether the licensing agreement is “reasonable”), but whether the copyright is being used in a manner violative of the public policy embodied in the grant of a copyright.
Lasercomb undoubtedly has the right to protect against copying of the Interact code. Its standard licensing agreement, however, goes much further and essentially attempts to suppress any attempt by the licensee to independently implement the idea which Interact expresses. The agreement forbids the licensee to develop or assist in developing any kind of computer-assisted die-making software. If the licensee is a business, it is to prevent all its directors, officers and employees from assisting in any manner to develop computer-assisted die-making software. Although one or another licensee might succeed in negotiating out the noncompete provisions, this does not negate the fact that Lasercomb is attempting to use its copyright in a manner adverse to the public policy embodied in copyright law, and that it has succeeded in doing so with at least one licensee.
The language employed in the Lasercomb agreement is extremely broad. Each time Lasercomb sells its Interact program to a company and obtains that company’s agreement to the noncompete language, the company is required to forego utilization of the creative abilities of all its officers, directors and employees in the area of CAD/CAM die-making software. Of yet greater concern, these creative abilities are withdrawn from the public. The period for which this anticompetitive restraint exists is ninety-nine years, which could be longer than the life of the copyright itself.
We previously have considered the effect of anticompetitive language in a licensing agreement in the context of patent misuse. Compton v. Metal Products, Inc., 453 F.2d 38 (4th Cir.1971), cert. denied, 406 U.S. 968 (1972). Compton had invented and patented coal auguring equipment. He granted an exclusive license in the patents to Joy Manufacturing, and the license agreement included a provision that Compton would not “engage in any business or activity relating to the manufacture or sale of equipment of the type licensed hereunder” for as long as he was due royalties under the patents. Suit for infringement of the Compton patents was brought against Metal Products, and the district court granted injunctive relief and damages. On appeal we held that relief for the infringement was barred by the misuse defense, stating:
The need of Joy to protect its investment does not outweigh the public’s right under our system to expect competition and the benefits which flow therefrom, and the total withdrawal of Compton from the mining machine business … everywhere in the world for a period of 20 years unreasonably lessens the competition which the public has a right to expect, and constitutes misuse of the patents.
We think the anticompetitive language in Lasercomb’s licensing agreement is at least as egregious as that which led us to bar the infringement action in Compton, and therefore amounts to misuse of its copyright. Again, the analysis necessary to a finding of misuse is similar to but separate from the analysis necessary to a finding of antitrust violation. The misuse arises from Lasercomb’s attempt to use its copyright in a particular expression, the Interact software, to control competition in an area outside the copyright, i.e., the idea of computer-assisted die manufacture, regardless of whether such conduct amounts to an antitrust violation.
In its rejection of the copyright misuse defense, the district court emphasized that Holiday Steel was not explicitly party to a licensing agreement containing the offending language. However, again analogizing to patent misuse, the defense of copyright misuse is available even if the defendants themselves have not been injured by the misuse. In Morton Salt, the defendant was not a party to the license requirement that only Morton-produced salt tablets be used with Morton’s salt-depositing machine. Nevertheless, suit against defendant for infringement of Morton’s patent was barred on public policy grounds. Similarly, in Compton, even though the defendant Metal Products was not a party to the license agreement that restrained competition by Compton, suit against Metal Products was barred because of the public interest in free competition.
Therefore, the fact that appellants here were not parties to one of Lasercomb’s standard license agreements is inapposite to their copyright misuse defense. The question is whether Lasercomb is using its copyright in a manner contrary to public policy, which question we have answered in the affirmative.
Notes and Questions
1. Patent versus copyright. Why do you think that there have been comparatively few cases involving copyright misuse in comparison to the number of cases involving patent misuse? Is this difference due to a fundamental difference between copyright and patent law, or the licensing practices of copyright versus patent owners, or something else?
2. What is copyright misuse? In Lasercomb, the court finds that “the anticompetitive language in Lasercomb’s licensing agreement is at least as egregious as that which led us to bar the infringement action in Compton, and therefore amounts to misuse of its copyright.” What kind of standard of review is this? Compton was a patent misuse case. As discussed in Supreme Court cases since Morton Salt, the standard for assessing patent misuse is whether or not the licensor impermissibly attempted to expand the scope of the patent grant. Is this the standard for copyright misuse according to the Fourth Circuit? Or should copyright misuse, as suggested by the Fourth Circuit, be determined based on whether or not the offending licensing language is more or less egregious than the language in one or more patent misuse cases? How should one measure egregiousness? How would you describe a better test for copyright misuse?
3. A need for statutory reform? Why did the 1988 Patent Misuse Reform Act cover only patents? Is a statutory reform effort needed to address copyright misuse?
4. Copyright misuse through suppression of speech. In Video Pipeline, Inc. v. Buena Vista Home Entertainment, Inc., 342 F.3d 191 (3d Cir. 2003), Video Pipeline created and displayed “clip previews” (short, two-minute segments) of approximately sixty-two Disney films on its website without Disney’s permission. Disney accused Video Pipeline of copyright infringement and Video Pipeline responded that Disney had misused its copyright and, as a result, should not receive the protection of copyright law. Specifically, Video Pipeline pointed to the licensing agreements that Disney entered into with other websites authorizing them to display trailers of Disney films. Those agreements contained the following clause:
The Website in which the Trailers are used may not be derogatory to or critical of the entertainment industry or of [Disney] (and its officers, directors, agents, employees, affiliates, divisions and subsidiaries) or of any motion picture produced or distributed by [Disney] … [or] of the materials from which the Trailers were taken or of any person involved with the production of the Underlying Works. Any breach of this paragraph will render this license null and void and Licensee will be liable to all parties concerned for defamation and copyright infringement, as well as breach of contract.
According to Video Pipeline, this prohibition leveraged Disney’s copyright in its trailers to suppress free speech and criticism of Disney, and is thus copyright misuse. In assessing Video Pipeline’s claim, the Third Circuit recognized the defense of copyright misuse, but held that Video Pipeline had not established misuse in this case. The court explained:
Misuse often exists where the patent or copyright holder has engaged in some form of anti-competitive behavior. More on point, however, is the underlying policy rationale for the misuse doctrine set out in the Constitution’s Copyright and Patent Clause: “to promote the Progress of Science and useful Arts.” The “ultimate aim” of copyright law is “to stimulate artistic creativity for the general public good.” Put simply, our Constitution emphasizes the purpose and value of copyrights and patents. Harm caused by their misuse undermines their usefulness.
Anti-competitive licensing agreements may conflict with the purpose behind a copyright’s protection by depriving the public of the would-be competitor’s creativity. The fair use doctrine and the refusal to copyright facts and ideas also address applications of copyright protection that would otherwise conflict with a copyright’s constitutional goal. But it is possible that a copyright holder could leverage its copyright to restrain the creative expression of another without engaging in anti-competitive behavior or implicating the fair use and idea/expression doctrines.
The licensing agreements in this case do seek to restrict expression by licensing the Disney trailers for use on the internet only so long as the web sites on which the trailers will appear do not derogate Disney, the entertainment industry, etc. But we nonetheless cannot conclude on this record that the agreements are likely to interfere with creative expression to such a degree that they affect in any significant way the policy interest in increasing the public store of creative activity. The licensing agreements do not, for instance, interfere with the licensee’s opportunity to express such criticism on other web sites or elsewhere. There is no evidence that the public will find it any more difficult to obtain criticism of Disney and its interests, or even that the public is considerably less likely to come across this criticism, if it is not displayed on the same site as the trailers. Moreover, if a critic wishes to comment on Disney’s works, the fair use doctrine may be implicated regardless of the existence of the licensing agreements. Finally, copyright law, and the misuse doctrine in particular, should not be interpreted to require Disney, if it licenses its trailers for display on any web sites but its own, to do so willy-nilly regardless of the content displayed with its copyrighted works. Indeed such an application of the misuse doctrine would likely decrease the public’s access to Disney’s works because it might as a result refuse to license at all online display of its works.
Thus, while we extend the patent misuse doctrine to copyright, and recognize that it might operate beyond its traditional anti-competition context, we hold it inapplicable here. On this record Disney’s licensing agreements do not interfere significantly with copyright policy (while holding to the contrary might, in fact, do so).
How convincing is Video Pipeline’s case for copyright misuse? Is the Third Circuit’s test for copyright misuse in Video Pipeline any clearer than the Fourth Circuit’s test in Lasercomb? Under what fact patterns might a claim for copyright misuse be established based on suppression of speech?
Summary Contents
25.1 Per Se Illegality versus the Rule of Reason 827
25.2 Price Fixing 828
25.3 Market Allocation 832
25.4 Vertical Restraints: Resale Price Maintenance 840
25.5 Unilateral Conduct: Tying 848
25.6 Monopolization and Market Power 857
25.7 Refusals to Deal: Unilateral and Concerted 866
25.8 Antitrust Issues and Due Process in Standard Setting 871
25.9 Reverse Payment Settlements: “Pay for Delay” 875
This chapter offers a broad overview of the impact of US antitrust laws on intellectual property (IP) licensing and transactions. It is by no means comprehensive, and there are numerous texts that deal with these issues in far greater depth.Footnote 1 A basic understanding of antitrust law is, however, critical to the analysis of IP licensing arrangements. As I observed over many years of legal practice, to the uninitiated, anticompetitive arrangements often seem like great business ideas – activities like price fixing, market allocation, even concerted refusals to deal can be profitable and beneficial for those who engage in them. Unfortunately, they are illegal. As a result, this chapter offers a summary of the antitrust doctrines that arise frequently in IP- and technology-focused transactions. Antitrust issues also play a role in the analysis of joint ventures, which are discussed in Section 9.4, and IP pools, which are discussed in Chapter 26 (a preview of this topic is presented in Section 25.5).
Antitrust law can be a particularly challenging subject, as the law, and even the basic premises underlying it, have evolved over time. As you read this chapter, consider how antitrust attitudes toward IP have shifted over the last fifty years, from the suspicion evidenced by the “Nine No-Nos” to the relatively permissive posture adopted in recent cases.
Section 1
Every contract, combination in the form of trust or otherwise, or conspiracy, in restraint of trade or commerce among the several States, or with foreign nations, is declared to be illegal …
Section 2
Every person who shall monopolize, or attempt to monopolize, or combine or conspire with any other person or persons, to monopolize any part of the trade or commerce among the several States, or with foreign nations, shall be deemed guilty of a felony …
At their most fundamental level, the antitrust laws are intended to protect free market competition from private restraint. In the United States, the principal antitrust statute is the Sherman Antitrust Act of 1890 (15 U.S.C. §§ 1–38). The Sherman Act has two main goals, described in its first two sections. Section 1 of the Sherman Act is described as prohibiting unlawful combinations – concerted action by competitors – and Section 2 is described as prohibiting monopolization – unilateral action. Though these two statutory sections are brief (often referred to as Constitutional in scope), they have spawned volumes of commentary and case law over more than a century. In addition to the Sherman Act, other US statutes address antitrust issues, including the Clayton Act of 1914 (15 U.S.C. §§ 12–27, 29 U.S.C. §§ 52–53), which deals primarily with mergers and acquisitions, and the Robinson–Patman Act (15 U.S.C. § 13), which deals with price discrimination. In addition, most states have their own competition laws, which overlap with federal laws to differing degrees.
On the other hand, IP rights, by their very nature, afford their owners exclusive rights over certain works and inventions. They are sometimes referred to as legally sanctioned monopolies. Intellectual property licenses are arrangements among multiple parties. It should thus be obvious that IP licensing intersects with, and can run afoul of, the antitrust laws in a variety of ways.
Unlike most countries, the United States has not one, but two federal agencies with jurisdiction to enforce the antitrust laws: the Department of Justice (DOJ) acting through its Antitrust Division, and the Federal Trade Commission (FTC), an independent federal agency formed in 1914. These two agencies have overlapping but not entirely coextensive jurisdiction over antitrust matters.
The DOJ has sole authority to prosecute criminal violations of the antitrust laws. The DOJ also issues Business Review Letters (BRL) in response to inquiries from private parties. In BRLs the DOJ indicates whether it would likely prosecute a proposed transaction.
The FTC is chartered under the Federal Trade Commission Act (15 U.S.C. § 41 et seq.). Section 5 of the FTC Act bans “unfair methods of competition” and “unfair or deceptive acts or practices.” The Supreme Court has held that violations of the Sherman Act necessarily violate the FTC Act. Thus, while the FTC does not technically enforce the Sherman Act, it can prosecute the same types of conduct under the FTC Act. There is also some debate over the extent to which § 5 of the FTC Act, particularly its ban on “unfair methods of competition,” prohibits conduct beyond the bounds of the Sherman Act.
The DOJ and FTC have historically coordinated their antitrust enforcement activities, and have produced numerous joint statements regarding their views of the law. Nevertheless, the agencies do not always see eye to eye. During the Trump Administration, in particular, the DOJ and FTC have taken opposing views on antitrust issues, particularly when they involve IP. The most stark example of this divergence occurred during the FTC’s enforcement action against Qualcomm, in which the DOJ intervened several times in support of the defendant.
In addition to the FTC and DOJ, private parties can also bring suits to enforce the Sherman Act, though their remedies are limited to monetary and injunctive relief – criminal penalties being available only to the DOJ. Only the FTC may enforce the FTC Act.
In considering statements and opinions issued by the US antitrust enforcement agencies, it is important to remember that these agencies enforce the antitrust laws, they do not make the antitrust laws. As in other areas of federal law, Congress enacts the laws, which are then interpreted by the courts. Just as the FBI, another unit of the DOJ, investigates violations of and enforces federal criminal laws, the DOJ’s Antitrust Division investigates potential antitrust violations and, if it feels that a violation has occurred, it may bring an action in court. But the DOJ’s determination that a violation of antitrust law has occurred does not make it so, any more than the FBI’s seizure of an alleged felon’s assets automatically passes muster under the Fourth Amendment.
25.1 Per Se Illegality Versus the Rule of Reason
From the early twentieth century through the 1970s, US antitrust authorities and courts had a relatively dim view of IP. As one DOJ official explained, “The prevailing view in the 1970s was that antitrust law and IP law shared no common purpose. One created monopolies and the other sought to prevent them, so the two regimes were seen as not only in tension, but in conflict.”Footnote 2 As a result, during the first three-quarters of the twentieth century, many arrangements involving IP were found to violate the antitrust laws.Footnote 3 Various licensing practices that were condemned were summed up in 1970 by a DOJ official in a list that came to be known as the “Nine No-Nos.”Footnote 4 The Nine No-Nos are summarized as follows:
1. royalties not reasonably related to sales of the patented products;
2. restraints on licensees’ commerce outside the scope of the patent (tie-outs);
3. requiring the licensee to purchase unpatented materials from the licensor (tie-ins);
4. mandatory package licensing;
5. requiring the licensee to assign to the patentee patents that may be issued to the licensee after the licensing arrangement is executed (exclusive grantbacks):
6. licensee veto power over grants of further licenses;
7. restraints on sales of unpatented products made with a patented process;
8. post-sale restraints on resale; and
9. setting minimum prices on resale of the patent products.
Committing any of the Nine No-Nos was viewed as a per se violation of the antitrust laws. That is, if a party was found to engage in one of these practices, antitrust liability was effectively automatic. Views of the role and scope of US antitrust law began to change in the late 1970s, influenced by the rise of the “Chicago School” of law and economics and by the publication of Robert Bork’s deeply flawed but highly influential book The Antitrust Paradox (1978). Thus, by the early 1980s the DOJ began to reconsider the validity of the Nine No-Nos. In 1988, the DOJ issued a policy statement that shifted its analysis of most IP licensing practices from per se illegality to a “rule of reason” approach in which the potential anticompetitive effects of an arrangement are balanced against its procompetitive effects.Footnote 5 Under the rule of reason, an arrangement will be condemned only if the anticompetitive effects outweigh the procompetitive effects.
In 1995, the DOJ and FTC jointly released a set of Antitrust Guidelines for the Licensing of Intellectual Property. As explained by Richard Gilbert and Carl Shapiro, the DOJ–FTC Guidelines embody three core principles regarding IP licensing:
an explicit recognition of the generally procompetitive nature of licensing arrangements;
a clear rejection of any presumption that IP necessarily creates market power in the antitrust context; and
an endorsement of the validity of applying the same general antitrust approach to the analysis of conduct involving IP that the agencies apply to conduct involving other forms of tangible or intangible property.Footnote 6
These core principles and the other elements of the 1995 DOJ–FTC Guidelines proved remarkably influential and long-lasting. They were only updated once, in 2017, and have largely retained their original intent and scope. We will see elements from the DOJ–FTC Guidelines throughout this chapter.
While the current approach to antitrust liability largely relies on the “rule of reason” analysis, there are still some areas of per se liability.
25.2 Price Fixing
Chief among the areas of per se liability today is price fixing and the related activity of bid rigging. Both are forms of impermissible collusion that violate Section 1 of the Sherman Act. Because liability is per se, “where such a collusive scheme has been established, it cannot be justified under the law by arguments or evidence that, for example, the agreed-upon prices were reasonable, the agreement was necessary to prevent or eliminate price cutting or ruinous competition, or the conspirators were merely trying to make sure that each got a fair share of the market.”Footnote 7
The DOJ defines price fixing as follows:
Price fixing is an agreement among competitors to raise, fix, or otherwise maintain the price at which their goods or services are sold. It is not necessary that the competitors agree to charge exactly the same price, or that every competitor in a given industry join the conspiracy. Price fixing can take many forms, and any agreement that restricts price competition violates the law. Other examples of price-fixing agreements include those to:
Establish or adhere to price discounts.
Hold prices firm.
Eliminate or reduce discounts.
Adopt a standard formula for computing prices.
Maintain certain price differentials between different types, sizes, or quantities of products.
Adhere to a minimum fee or price schedule.
Fix credit terms.
Not advertise prices.
In many cases, participants in a price-fixing conspiracy also establish some type of policing mechanism to make sure that everyone adheres to the agreement.Footnote 8
US Department of Justice, October 18, 2006
WASHINGTON – A federal grand jury in San Francisco today returned an indictment against two executives from Samsung Electronics Ltd. (Samsung) and one executive from Hynix Semiconductor America Inc. (Hynix America) for their participation in a global conspiracy to fix DRAM prices, the Department of Justice announced.
Including today’s charge, four companies and 16 individuals have been charged and fines totaling more than $731 million have resulted from the Department’s ongoing antitrust investigation into the DRAM industry. The $731 million in criminal fines is the second highest total obtained by the Department of Justice in a criminal antitrust investigation into a specific industry.
The indictment, filed today in the U.S. District Court in San Francisco, charged that Il Ung Kim, Young Bae Rha, and Gary Swanson participated with co-conspirators in the conspiracy from on or about April 1, 2001, until on or about June 15, 2002. At the time of the conspiracy, Kim was vice president of marketing for the memory division at Samsung. Rha was vice president of sales and marketing for the memory division at Samsung. Both Kim and Rha are citizens and residents of Korea. At the time of the conspiracy, Swanson was senior vice president of memory sales and marketing for Hynix America, the U.S.-based subsidiary of Hynix Semiconductor Inc. (Hynix), which is headquartered in Korea. Swanson is a resident and citizen of the United States.
DRAM is the most commonly used semiconductor memory product, providing high-speed storage and retrieval of electronic information for a wide variety of computer, telecommunication and consumer electronic products. DRAM is used in personal computers, laptops, workstations, servers, printers, hard disk drives, personal digital assistants (PDAs), modems, mobile phones, telecommunication hubs and routers, digital cameras, video recorders and TVs, digital set-top boxes, game consoles and digital music players. There were approximately $7.7 billion in DRAM sales in the United States alone in 2004.
The indictment charges that Kim, Rha, Swanson, and their co-conspirators carried out the conspiracy in a variety of ways, including:
Attending meetings and participating in telephone conversations in the U.S. and elsewhere to discuss the prices of DRAM to be sold to certain original equipment manufacturers (OEMs);
Agreeing during those meetings and telephone conversations to charge prices of DRAM at certain levels to be sold to certain OEMs;
Exchanging information on sales of DRAM to certain OEM customers, for the purpose of monitoring and enforcing adherence to the agreed-upon prices;
Agreeing during those meetings and telephone conversations to raise and maintain prices of DRAM to be sold to certain OEMs;
Agreeing during those meetings and telephone discussions to rig the online auction, sponsored by Compaq Computer Corporation on Nov. 29, 2001, by not submitting a bid in the auction, or by submitting intentionally high prices on the bids in the auction …
The Samsung employees agreed to serve prison terms ranging from seven to eight months and to each pay a $250,000 fine. In total, four companies have been charged with price-fixing in the DRAM investigation. Samsung pleaded guilty to the price fixing conspiracy and was sentenced to pay a $300 million criminal fine in November 2005. Hynix, the world’s second largest DRAM manufacturer, pleaded guilty and was sentenced to pay a $185 million criminal fine in May 2005. Japanese manufacturer Elpida Memory pleaded guilty and was sentenced to pay an $84 million fine in March 2006. German manufacturer Infineon pleaded guilty and was sentenced to pay a $160 million criminal fine in October 2004.
Notes and Questions
1. The continuing DRAM saga. In July 2006, shortly before the DOJ press release excerpted above, thirty-three states, including California, Massachusetts, Florida, New York and Pennsylvania, filed a class action lawsuit against DRAM makers alleging that their price-fixing scheme injured consumers, state agencies, universities and other groups. Two of the defendants reached a settlement for $113 million in 2007, and the remainder of the class action settled in 2010 for $173 million. Then, in 2018, another class action lawsuit was filed against DRAM manufacturers, this time for price fixing activity from 2016 to 2017. Why do you think the antitrust enforcement authorities are so intent on prosecuting price fixing? Are criminal penalties, including jail time, warranted by the offense?
2. Output restrictions. The classic price-fixing scenario is the one described in the DRAM case: executives of competing companies secretly collude to set prices for their products. But there are other avenues for price fixing. One of these is restricting output. As explained by the FTC:
An agreement to restrict production, sales, or output is just as illegal as direct price fixing, because reducing the supply of a product or service drives up its price. For example, the FTC challenged an agreement among competing oil importers to restrict the supply of lubricants by refusing to import or sell those products in Puerto Rico. The competitors were seeking to pressure the legislature to repeal an environmental deposit fee on lubricants, and warned of lubricant shortages and higher prices. The FTC alleged that the conspiracy was an unlawful horizontal agreement to restrict output that was inherently likely to harm competition and that had no countervailing efficiencies that would benefit consumers.Footnote 9
Are output restrictions just as harmful as explicit price fixing? Should they be subject to per se antitrust liability?
3. Uncoordinated price movements. Everyone has probably noticed that in many industries – air travel, higher education, retail gasoline – competing vendors offer prices that are surprisingly similar, and such prices often rise and fall in unison. Such coordinated price changes do not always indicate that illegal price fixing has occurred. As the FTC explains:
Not all price similarities, or price changes that occur at the same time, are the result of price fixing. On the contrary, they often result from normal market conditions. For example, prices of commodities such as wheat are often identical because the products are virtually identical, and the prices that farmers charge all rise and fall together without any agreement among them. If a drought causes the supply of wheat to decline, the price to all affected farmers will increase. An increase in consumer demand can also cause uniformly high prices for a product in limited supply.
…
Q: Our company monitors competitors’ ads, and we sometimes offer to match special discounts or sales incentives for consumers. Is this a problem?
A: No. Matching competitors’ pricing may be good business, and occurs often in highly competitive markets. Each company is free to set its own prices, and it may charge the same price as its competitors as long as the decision was not based on any agreement or coordination with a competitor.Footnote 10
Where should the law draw the line between collusive price fixing and natural price convergence in competitive industries?
4. Buyer-side cartels. Just as a group of sellers who conspire to fix prices is a per se violation of Section 1 of the Sherman Act, so is a conspiracy among buyers to pressure suppliers to lower their prices, to refrain from selling to their competitors or to otherwise distort the market. Such buyer cartels, sometimes referred to as oligopsonies, typically arise with respect to tangible goods, but have also been alleged with respect to intangibles such as employee wages. By the same token, buyer cartels can, in theory, occur with respect to IP licenses. Consider a patent holder, for example, as the supplier of non-exclusive licenses, and potential licensees as its customers. Were the customers to collude improperly to pressure the patent holder to lower its license rates, a per se violation could be found.
The specter of such buyer-side arrangements has been raised in the context of industry standard-setting (see Chapter 20). For example, potential manufacturers of a standardized product could, in theory, pressure a patent holder to lower its royalty rate for a patent covering a standard (eventually approaching zero) on the threat that the manufacturers will otherwise cause the relevant standards-development organization (SDO) to “work around” the patent and exclude it from the standard.Footnote 11 Both the DOJ and the FTC, however, have indicated that coordination and information sharing among the members of an SDO can have significant procompetitive benefits, including preventing patent holders from charging excessive licensing fees. Accordingly, the agencies have indicated that a rule of reason analysis should be utilized in such cases. Which approach – per se liability or the rule of reason – do you find more persuasive in this context?
25.3 Market Allocation
As explained by the FTC, “Plain agreements among competitors to divide sales territories or assign customers are almost always illegal. These arrangements are essentially agreements not to compete: ‘I won’t sell in your market if you don’t sell in mine.’”Footnote 12 For example, the FTC has prosecuted an arrangement in which two chemical companies agreed that one would not sell in North America if the other would not sell in Japan. In addition to dividing sales territories on a geographic basis, illegal market allocation may involve assigning a specific percentage of available business to each producer or assigning certain customers to each seller. The case that follows examines an allocation scheme that arose in the context of “store brand” groceries.
405 U.S. 596 (1972)
MARSHALL, JUSTICE
The United States brought this action for injunctive relief against alleged violation by Topco Associates, Inc. (Topco), of § 1 of the Sherman Act. Following a trial on the merits, the United States District Court for the Northern District of Illinois entered judgment for Topco, and we now reverse the judgment of the District Court.
Topco is a cooperative association of approximately 25 small and medium-sized regional supermarket chains that operate stores in some 33 States. Each of the member chains operates independently; there is no pooling of earnings, profits, capital, management, or advertising resources. No grocery business is conducted under the Topco name. Its basic function is to serve as a purchasing agent for its members.Footnote 13 In this capacity, it procures and distributes to the members more than 1,000 different food and related nonfood items, most of which are distributed under brand names owned by Topco. The association does not itself own any manufacturing, processing, or warehousing facilities, and the items that it procures for members are usually shipped directly from the packer or manufacturer to the members. Payment is made either to Topco or directly to the manufacturer at a cost that is virtually the same for the members as for Topco itself.
All of the stock in Topco is owned by the members, with the common stock, the only stock having voting rights, being equally distributed. The board of directors, which controls the operation of the association, is drawn from the members and is normally composed of high-ranking executive officers of member chains. It is the board that elects the association’s officers and appoints committee members, and it is from the board that the principal executive officers of Topco must be drawn. Restrictions on the alienation of stock and the procedure for selecting all important officials of the association from within the ranks of its members give the members complete and unfettered control over the operations of the association.
Topco was founded in the 1940’s by a group of small, local grocery chains, independently owned and operated, that desired to cooperate to obtain high quality merchandise under private labels in order to compete more effectively with larger national and regional chains.Footnote 14 With a line of canned, dairy, and other products, the association began. It added frozen foods in 1950, fresh produce in 1958, more general merchandise equipment and supplies in 1960, and a branded bacon and carcass beef selection program in 1966. By 1964, Topco’s members had combined retail sales of more than $2 billion; by 1967, their sales totaled more than $2.3 billion, a figure exceeded by only three national grocery chains.
Members of the association vary in the degree of market share that they possess in their respective areas. The range is from 1.5% to 16%, with the average being approximately 6%. While it is difficult to compare these figures with the market shares of larger regional and national chains because of the absence in the record of accurate statistics for these chains, there is much evidence in the record that Topco members are frequently in as strong a competitive position in their respective areas as any other chain. The strength of this competitive position is due, in some measure, to the success of Topco-brand products. Although only 10% of the total goods sold by Topco members bear the association’s brand names, the profit on these goods is substantial and their very existence has improved the competitive potential of Topco members with respect to other large and powerful chains.
It is apparent that from meager beginnings approximately a quarter of a century ago, Topco has developed into a purchasing association wholly owned and operated by member chains, which possess much economic muscle, individually as well as cooperatively.
II The United States charged that, beginning at least as early as 1960 and continuing up to the time that the complaint was filed, Topco had combined and conspired with its members to violate [§ 1 of the Sherman Act] in two respects. First, the Government alleged that there existed:
a continuing agreement, understanding and concert of action among the co-conspirator member firms acting through Topco, the substantial terms of which have been and are that each co-conspirator or member firm will sell Topco-controlled brands only within the marketing territory allocated to it, and will refrain from selling Topco-controlled brands outside such marketing territory.
The division of marketing territories to which the complaint refers consists of a number of practices by the association. Article IX, § 2, of the Topco bylaws establishes three categories of territorial licenses that members may secure from the association:
(a) “Exclusive—An exclusive territory is one in which the member is licensed to sell all products bearing specified trademarks of the Association, to the exclusion of all other persons.
(b) “Non-exclusive—A non-exclusive territory is one in which a member is licensed to sell all products bearing specified trademarks of the Association, but not to the exclusion of others who may also be licensed to sell products bearing the same trademarks of the Association in the same territory.
(c) “Coextensive—A coextensive territory is one in which two (2) or more members are licensed to sell all products bearing specified trademarks of the Association to the exclusion of all other persons …”
When applying for membership, a chain must designate the type of license that it desires. Membership must first be approved by the board of directors, and thereafter by an affirmative vote of 75% of the association’s members. If, however, the member whose operations are closest to those of the applicant, or any member whose operations are located within 100 miles of the applicant, votes against approval, an affirmative vote of 85% of the members is required for approval. Because, as indicated by the record, members cooperate in accommodating each other’s wishes, the procedure for approval provides, in essence, that members have a veto of sorts over actual or potential competition in the territorial areas in which they are concerned.
Following approval, each new member signs an agreement with Topco designating the territory in which that member may sell Topco-brand products. No member may sell these products outside the territory in which it is licensed. Most licenses are exclusive, and even those denominated “coextensive” or “non-exclusive” prove to be de facto exclusive. Exclusive territorial areas are often allocated to members who do no actual business in those areas on the theory that they may wish to expand at some indefinite future time and that expansion would likely be in the direction of the allocated territory. When combined with each member’s veto power over new members, provisions for exclusivity work effectively to insulate members from competition in Topco-brand goods. Should a member violate its license agreement and sell in areas other than those in which it is licensed, its membership can be terminated under the bylaws. Once a territory is classified as exclusive, either formally or de facto, it is extremely unlikely that the classification will ever be changed.
The Government maintains that this scheme of dividing markets violates the Sherman Act because it operates to prohibit competition in Topco-brand products among grocery chains engaged in retail operations. The Government also makes a subsidiary challenge to Topco’s practices regarding licensing members to sell at wholesale. Under the bylaws, members are not permitted to sell any products supplied by the association at wholesale, whether trademarked or not, without first applying for and receiving special permission from the association to do so. Before permission is granted, other licensees (usually retailers), whose interests may potentially be affected by wholesale operations, are consulted as to their wishes in the matter. If permission is obtained, the member must agree to restrict the sale of Topco products to a specific geographic area and to sell under any conditions imposed by the association. Permission to wholesale has often been sought by members, only to be denied by the association. The Government contends that this amounts not only to a territorial restriction violative of the Sherman Act, but also to a restriction on customers that in itself is violative of the Act.
Topco’s answer to the complaint is illustrative of its posture in the District Court and before this Court:
Private label merchandising is a way of economic life in the food retailing industry, and exclusivity is the essence of a private label program; without exclusivity, a private label would not be private. Each national and large regional chain has its own exclusive private label products in addition to the nationally advertised brands which all chains sell. Each such chain relies upon the exclusivity of its own private label line to differentiate its private label products from those of its competitors and to attract and retain the repeat business and loyalty of consumers. Smaller retail grocery stores and chains are unable to compete effectively with the national and large regional chains without also offering their own exclusive private label products.
The only feasible method by which Topco can procure private label products and assure the exclusivity thereof is through trademark licenses specifying the territory in which each member may sell such trademarked products.
Topco essentially maintains that it needs territorial divisions to compete with larger chains; that the association could not exist if the territorial divisions were anything but exclusive; and that by restricting competition in the sale of Topco-brand goods, the association actually increases competition by enabling its members to compete successfully with larger regional and national chains.
On its face, § 1 of the Sherman Act appears to bar any combination of entrepreneurs so long as it is “in restraint of trade.” Theoretically, all manufacturers, distributors, merchants, sellers, and buyers could be considered as potential competitors of each other. Were § 1 to be read in the narrowest possible way, any commercial contract could be deemed to violate it. The history underlying the formulation of the antitrust laws led this Court to conclude, however, that Congress did not intend to prohibit all contracts, nor even all contracts that might in some insignificant degree or attenuated sense restrain trade or competition. In lieu of the narrowest possible reading of § 1, the Court adopted a “rule of reason” analysis for determining whether most business combinations or contracts violate the prohibitions of the Sherman Act. An analysis of the reasonableness of particular restraints includes consideration of the facts peculiar to the business in which the restraint is applied, the nature of the restraint and its effects, and the history of the restraint and the reasons for its adoption.
While the Court has utilized the “rule of reason” in evaluating the legality of most restraints alleged to be violative of the Sherman Act, it has also developed the doctrine that certain business relationships are per se violations of the Act without regard to a consideration of their reasonableness. In Northern Pacific R. Co. v. United States, 356 U.S. 1, 5 (1958), Mr. Justice Black explained the appropriateness of, and the need for, per se rules:
[T]here are certain agreements or practices which because of their pernicious effect on competition and lack of any redeeming virtue are conclusively presumed to be unreasonable and therefore illegal without elaborate inquiry as to the precise harm they have caused or the business excuse for their use. This principle of per se unreasonableness not only makes the type of restraints which are proscribed by the Sherman Act more certain to the benefit of everyone concerned, but it also avoids the necessity for an incredibly complicated and prolonged economic investigation into the entire history of the industry involved, as well as related industries, in an effort to determine at large whether a particular restraint has been unreasonable—an inquiry so often wholly fruitless when undertaken.
It is only after considerable experience with certain business relationships that courts classify them as per se violations of the Sherman Act. One of the classic examples of a per se violation of § 1 is an agreement between competitors at the same level of the market structure to allocate territories in order to minimize competition. Such concerted action is usually termed a “horizontal” restraint, in contradistinction to combinations of persons at different levels of the market structure, e.g., manufacturers and distributors, which are termed “vertical” restraints. This Court has reiterated time and time again that “(h)orizontal territorial limitations … are naked restraints of trade with no purpose except stifling of competition.”
We think that it is clear that the restraint in this case is a horizontal one, and, therefore, a per se violation of § 1. The District Court failed to make any determination as to whether there were per se horizontal territorial restraints in this case and simply applied a rule of reason in reaching its conclusions that the restraints were not illegal. In so doing, the District Court erred.
United States v. Sealy, Inc., is, in fact, on all fours with this case. Sealy licensed manufacturers of mattresses and bedding to make and sell products using the Sealy trademark. Like Topco, Sealy was a corporation owned almost entirely by its licensees, who elected the Board of Directors and controlled the business. Just as in this case, Sealy agreed with the licensees not to license other manufacturers or sellers to sell Sealy-brand products in a designated territory in exchange for the promise of the licensee who sold in that territory not to expand its sales beyond the area demarcated by Sealy. The Court held that this was a horizontal territorial restraint, which was per se violative of the Sherman Act.
Whether or not we would decide this case the same way under the rule of reason used by the District Court is irrelevant to the issue before us. The fact is that courts are of limited utility in examining difficult economic problems. Our inability to weigh, in any meaningful sense, destruction of competition in one sector of the economy against promotion of competition in another sector is one important reason we have formulated per se rules.
In applying these rigid rules, the Court has consistently rejected the notion that naked restraints of trade are to be tolerated because they are well intended or because they are allegedly developed to increase competition.
Antitrust laws in general, and the Sherman Act in particular, are the Magna Carta of free enterprise. They are as important to the preservation of economic freedom and our free-enterprise system as the Bill of Rights is to the protection of our fundamental personal freedoms. And the freedom guaranteed each and every business, no matter how small, is the freedom to compete—to assert with vigor, imagination, devotion, and ingenuity whatever economic muscle it can muster. Implicit in such freedom is the notion that it cannot be foreclosed with respect to one sector of the economy because certain private citizens or groups believe that such foreclosure might promote greater competition in a more important sector of the economy.
The District Court determined that by limiting the freedom of its individual members to compete with each other, Topco was doing a greater good by fostering competition between members and other large supermarket chains. But, the fallacy in this is that Topco has no authority under the Sherman Act to determine the respective values of competition in various sectors of the economy. On the contrary, the Sherman Act gives to each Topco member and to each prospective member the right to ascertain for itself whether or not competition with other supermarket chains is more desirable than competition in the sale of Topco-brand products. Without territorial restrictions, Topco members may indeed “(cut) each other’s throats.” But we have never found this possibility sufficient to warrant condoning horizontal restraints of trade.
The Court has previously noted with respect to price fixing, another per se violation of the Sherman Act, that:
The reasonable price fixed today may through economic and business changes become the unreasonable price of tomorrow. Once established, it may be maintained unchanged because of the absence of competition secured by the agreement for a price reasonable when fixed.
A similar observation can be made with regard to territorial limitations.
There have been tremendous departures from the notion of a free-enterprise system as it was originally conceived in this country. These departures have been the product of congressional action and the will of the people. If a decision is to be made to sacrifice competition in one portion of the economy for greater competition in another portion this too is a decision that must be made by Congress and not by private forces or by the courts. Private forces are too keenly aware of their own interests in making such decisions and courts are ill-equipped and ill-situated for such decisionmaking. To analyze, interpret, and evaluate the myriad of competing interests and the endless data that would surely be brought to bear on such decisions, and to make the delicate judgment on the relative values to society of competitive areas of the economy, the judgment of the elected representatives of the people is required.
Just as the territorial restrictions on retailing Topco-brand products must fall, so must the territorial restrictions on wholesaling. The considerations are the same, and the Sherman Act requires identical results.
We also strike down Topco’s other restrictions on the right of its members to wholesale goods. These restrictions amount to regulation of the customers to whom members of Topco may sell Topco-brand goods. Like territorial restrictions, limitations on customers are intended to limit intra-brand competition and to promote inter-brand competition. For the reasons previously discussed, the arena in which Topco members compete must be left to their unfettered choice absent a contrary congressional determination.
We reverse the judgment of the District Court and remand the case for entry of an appropriate decree.
Notes and Questions
1. Good intentions? The Court in Topco states that it “has consistently rejected the notion that naked restraints of trade are to be tolerated because they are well intended or because they are allegedly developed to increase competition.” Why shouldn’t intent matter when analyzing restraints such as those imposed in Topco?
2. Bad intentions. Just as a party’s good or innocent intentions don’t affect antitrust analysis, its intent to compete ruthlessly in the market doesn’t either. As Judge Easterbrook of the Seventh Circuit wrote in A.A. Poultry v. Rose Acre, 881 F.2d 1396 (7th Cir. 1989):
Firms intend to … crush their rivals if they can. Intent to harm without more offers too vague a standard … Rivalry is harsh, and consumers gain the most when firms slash costs to the bone and pare price down to cost, all in pursuit of more business … If courts use the vigorous, nasty pursuit of sales as evidence of a forbidden intent, they run the risk of penalizing the motive forces of competition.
Do you agree with Judge Easterbrook’s reasoning? Is a firm’s ruthlessness irrelevant to antitrust analysis? Should it be?
3. Per se liability. Market allocation is one of the few remaining areas of per se antitrust liability. Do you think that the harm arising from arrangements such as that described in Topco warrants per se liability? How comparable is market allocation to price fixing? Are the potential injuries to competition similar?
4. The Magna Carta of free enterprise. Why does Justice Marshall refer to the Sherman Act as “the Magna Carta of free enterprise”? Do you agree with his characterization? Are there other laws that are equally as important to the free enterprise system? What would happen to the market economy if there were no antitrust laws?
5. The reformed Topco program. On remand, the district court entered the following order, which was summarily affirmed by the Supreme Court (414 U.S. 801 (1975)):
Defendant is ordered and directed … to amend its bylaws, Membership and Licensing Agreements, resolutions, rules and regulations to eliminate therefrom any provision which in any way limits or restricts the territories within which or the persons to whom any member firm may sell Topco brand products.
…
Notwithstanding the foregoing provisions, nothing in this Final Judgment shall prevent defendant from creating or eliminating areas or territories of prime responsibility of member firms; from designating the location of the place or places of business for which a trademark license is issued; from determining warehouse locations to which it will ship products; from terminating the membership of any organization which does not adequately promote the sale of Topco brand products; from formulating and implementing passovers or other procedures for reasonable compensation for good will developed for defendant’s trademarks in geographic areas in which another member firm begins to sell trademarked products; or from engaging in any activity rendered lawful by subsequent legislation enacted by the Congress of the United States.
How are the activities that Topco and its members are permitted to engage in under this order different than those that were challenged by the DOJ? How will Topco’s new restrictions promote competition?
6. The IP licensing “safety zone.” Recognizing the inherent procompetitive features of IP licensing arrangements, the DOJ and FTC established in § 4.3 of their 2017 Antitrust Guidelines for the Licensing of Intellectual Property an antitrust “safety zone” for licensing arrangements.Footnote 15 There, the agencies indicate that they “will not challenge a restraint in an intellectual property licensing arrangement” (other than a restraint that is “facially anticompetitive”) if “the licensor and its licensees collectively account for no more than twenty percent of each relevant market significantly affected by the restraint,” or “four or more independently controlled entities in addition to the parties to the licensing arrangement possess the required specialized assets or characteristics and the incentive to engage in research and development that is a close substitute of the research and development activities of the parties to the licensing agreement.” In effect, these guidelines recognize that below a certain level of market dominance, even otherwise anticompetitive arrangements have limited potential to harm competition in the market. The exception, of course, is “facially anticompetitive” activity, which is generally understood to mean any conduct that would be per se illegal. Do you agree with the idea of thresholds below which antitrust enforcement will not be pursued? Why doesn’t this logic apply to per se illegal conduct? Should it?
Violation of the Sherman Act is a felony punishable by a fine of up to $100 million for corporations, and a fine of up to $1 million and up to ten years imprisonment (or both) for individuals. Under some circumstances, the maximum fine may be increased to twice the gain or loss involved, and restitution to victims may be ordered. Only the Department of Justice has the authority to prosecute criminal actions under the Sherman Act, but rarely does so with respect to anticompetitive conduct involving IP.
The FTC may impose fines on parties that have violated an existing order prohibiting certain conduct. In July 2019, the FTC imposed a fine of $5 billion on Google for allegedly violating a 2012 FTC order relating to consumer privacy.
In addition to criminal sanctions and fines, private parties injured “by reason of anything forbidden in the antitrust laws” may bring suit and “shall recover threefold the damages by him sustained, and the cost of suit, including a reasonable attorney’s fee” (15 U.S.C. § 15(a)).
Both government enforcement agencies and private plaintiffs may seek preliminary and permanent injunctive relief to prevent the continuation of anticompetitive conduct. Injunctive relief may consist of relatively common “cease and desist” orders (behavioral remedies), as well as “structural” remedies that require a firm to divest portions of its business. Structural remedies are the most common in merger cases, but have also been imposed in large monopolization cases. The most famous of these is the 1984 break-up of AT&T, which split the massive enterprise into a long-distance carrier, seven regional service operators (the “Baby Bells”) and an equipment supplier (Western Electric). In the Microsoft case (see Section 25.6), the district court ordered Microsoft to divest its internet browser operations, though that order was eventually overturned on appeal.
Many remedial measures in antitrust cases are imposed not through judicial decisions, but through orders by the enforcement agency. If the government and the defendant agree to settle litigation brought by the agency, they may stipulate the terms of settlement in a mutually agreed “consent decree,” which is submitted to the court for entry into the record. Though not fully adjudicated, a consent decree has the force of judicial decision, enforceable on penalty of contempt. If, on the other hand, the defendant denies the allegations brought by the government or otherwise rejects the terms of a proposed order, the parties may litigate and the court may fashion a remedial decree based on its assessment of the case and the parties’ respective arguments. Such a decree is termed a “contested decree.”
The compulsory licensing of patents and other IP rights is sometimes required under antitrust remedial orders. From the 1940s through the 1970s, federal courts in antitrust cases approved more than 100 remedial patent licensing decrees, often requiring that patents be licensed to potential users on “fair, reasonable and nondiscriminatory” terms in order to remedy anticompetitive arrangements involving those patents.Footnote 16
25.4 Vertical Restraints: Resale Price Maintenance
The antitrust violations discussed above have related largely to conspiracies among competitors – so-called “horizontal” arrangements. Anticompetitive arrangements can also exist, however, between suppliers and resellers or manufacturers and customers in what are called “vertical” relationships. For example, a manufacturer may assign different geographical markets to different distributors of its products. Unlike the horizontal territorial restraints discussed in Topco, this type of vertical territorial restraint is generally viewed as permissible under the rule of reason. See Continental T.V., Inc. v. GTE Sylvania Inc., 433 U.S. 36 (1977).
Resale price maintenance is an arrangement whereby an “upstream” supplier or licensor requires that its “downstream” distributors, resellers or licensees sell products at certain minimum prices. That is, the supplier establishes a floor on prices of downstream products. Traditionally, this practice looked a lot like price fixing, which is per se illegal under Section 1 of the Sherman Act. However, in the following case the Supreme Court establishes that such vertical restraints should be evaluated under the “rule of reason.”
551 U.S. 877 (2007)
KENNEDY, JUSTICE
In Dr. Miles Medical Co. v. John D. Park & Sons Co., 220 U. S. 373 (1911), the Court established the rule that it is per se illegal under §1 of the Sherman Act, 15 U. S. C. §1, for a manufacturer to agree with its distributor to set the minimum price the distributor can charge for the manufacturer’s goods. The question presented by the instant case is whether the Court should overrule the per se rule and allow resale price maintenance agreements to be judged by the rule of reason, the usual standard applied to determine if there is a violation of §1. The Court has abandoned the rule of per se illegality for other vertical restraints a manufacturer imposes on its distributors. Respected economic analysts, furthermore, conclude that vertical price restraints can have procompetitive effects. We now hold that Dr. Miles should be overruled and that vertical price restraints are to be judged by the rule of reason.
Petitioner, Leegin Creative Leather Products, Inc. (Leegin), designs, manufactures, and distributes leather goods and accessories. In 1991, Leegin began to sell belts under the brand name “Brighton.” The Brighton brand has now expanded into a variety of women’s fashion accessories. It is sold across the United States in over 5,000 retail establishments, for the most part independent, small boutiques and specialty stores. Leegin’s president, Jerry Kohl, also has an interest in about 70 stores that sell Brighton products. Leegin asserts that, at least for its products, small retailers treat customers better, provide customers more services, and make their shopping experience more satisfactory than do larger, often impersonal retailers. Kohl explained: “[W]e want the consumers to get a different experience than they get in Sam’s Club or in Wal-Mart. And you can’t get that kind of experience or support or customer service from a store like Wal-Mart.”
Respondent, PSKS, Inc. (PSKS), operates Kay’s Kloset, a women’s apparel store in Lewisville, Texas. Kay’s Kloset buys from about 75 different manufacturers and at one time sold the Brighton brand. It first started purchasing Brighton goods from Leegin in 1995. Once it began selling the brand, the store promoted Brighton. For example, it ran Brighton advertisements and had Brighton days in the store. Kay’s Kloset became the destination retailer in the area to buy Brighton products. Brighton was the store’s most important brand and once accounted for 40 to 50 percent of its profits.
In 1997, Leegin instituted the “Brighton Retail Pricing and Promotion Policy.” Following the policy, Leegin refused to sell to retailers that discounted Brighton goods below suggested prices. The policy contained an exception for products not selling well that the retailer did not plan on reordering. In the letter to retailers establishing the policy, Leegin stated:
“In this age of mega stores like Macy’s, Bloomingdales, May Co. and others, consumers are perplexed by promises of product quality and support of product which we believe is lacking in these large stores. Consumers are further confused by the ever popular sale, sale, sale, etc.
“We, at Leegin, choose to break away from the pack by selling [at] specialty stores; specialty stores that can offer the customer great quality merchandise, superb service, and support the Brighton product 365 days a year on a consistent basis.
“We realize that half the equation is Leegin producing great Brighton product and the other half is you, our retailer, creating great looking stores selling our products in a quality manner.”
Leegin adopted the policy to give its retailers sufficient margins to provide customers the service central to its distribution strategy. It also expressed concern that discounting harmed Brighton’s brand image and reputation.
A year after instituting the pricing policy Leegin introduced a marketing strategy known as the “Heart Store Program.” It offered retailers incentives to become Heart Stores, and, in exchange, retailers pledged, among other things, to sell at Leegin’s suggested prices. Kay’s Kloset became a Heart Store soon after Leegin created the program. After a Leegin employee visited the store and found it unattractive, the parties appear to have agreed that Kay’s Kloset would not be a Heart Store beyond 1998. Despite losing this status, Kay’s Kloset continued to increase its Brighton sales.
In December 2002, Leegin discovered Kay’s Kloset had been marking down Brighton’s entire line by 20 percent. Kay’s Kloset contended it placed Brighton products on sale to compete with nearby retailers who also were undercutting Leegin’s suggested prices. Leegin, nonetheless, requested that Kay’s Kloset cease discounting. Its request refused, Leegin stopped selling to the store. The loss of the Brighton brand had a considerable negative impact on the store’s revenue from sales.
PSKS sued Leegin in the United States District Court for the Eastern District of Texas. It alleged, among other claims, that Leegin had violated the antitrust laws by “enter[ing] into agreements with retailers to charge only those prices fixed by Leegin.” Leegin planned to introduce expert testimony describing the procompetitive effects of its pricing policy. The District Court excluded the testimony, relying on the per se rule established by Dr. Miles. At trial PSKS argued that the Heart Store program, among other things, demonstrated Leegin and its retailers had agreed to fix prices. Leegin responded that it had established a unilateral pricing policy lawful under §1, which applies only to concerted action. The jury agreed with PSKS and awarded it $1.2 million. Pursuant to 15 U. S. C. §15(a), the District Court trebled the damages and reimbursed PSKS for its attorney’s fees and costs. It entered judgment against Leegin in the amount of $3,975,000.80.
The Court of Appeals for the Fifth Circuit affirmed. On appeal Leegin did not dispute that it had entered into vertical price-fixing agreements with its retailers. Rather, it contended that the rule of reason should have applied to those agreements. The Court of Appeals rejected this argument. We granted certiorari to determine whether vertical minimum resale price maintenance agreements should continue to be treated as per se unlawful.
The rule of reason is the accepted standard for testing whether a practice restrains trade in violation of §1. In its design and function the rule distinguishes between restraints with anticompetitive effect that are harmful to the consumer and restraints stimulating competition that are in the consumer’s best interest.
The rule of reason does not govern all restraints. Some types “are deemed unlawful per se.” The per se rule, treating categories of restraints as necessarily illegal, eliminates the need to study the reasonableness of an individual restraint in light of the real market forces at work; and, it must be acknowledged, the per se rule can give clear guidance for certain conduct. Restraints that are per se unlawful include horizontal agreements among competitors to fix prices or to divide markets.
Resort to per se rules is confined to restraints, like those mentioned, “that would always or almost always tend to restrict competition and decrease output.” To justify a per se prohibition a restraint must have “manifestly anticompetitive” effects and “lack of any redeeming virtue.”
As a consequence, the per se rule is appropriate only after courts have had considerable experience with the type of restraint at issue, and only if courts can predict with confidence that it would be invalidated in all or almost all instances under the rule of reason. It should come as no surprise, then, that “we have expressed reluctance to adopt per se rules with regard to restraints imposed in the context of business relationships where the economic impact of certain practices is not immediately obvious.” And, as we have stated, a “departure from the rule-of-reason standard must be based upon demonstrable economic effect rather than … upon formalistic line drawing.”
The Court has interpreted Dr. Miles as establishing a per se rule against a vertical agreement between a manufacturer and its distributor to set minimum resale prices. In Dr. Miles the plaintiff, a manufacturer of medicines, sold its products only to distributors who agreed to resell them at set prices. The Court found the manufacturer’s control of resale prices to be unlawful. It relied on the common-law rule that “a general restraint upon alienation is ordinarily invalid.” The Court then explained that the agreements would advantage the distributors, not the manufacturer, and were analogous to a combination among competing distributors, which the law treated as void.
The reasoning of the Court’s more recent jurisprudence has rejected the rationales on which Dr. Miles was based. By relying on the common-law rule against restraints on alienation, the Court justified its decision based on “formalistic” legal doctrine rather than “demonstrable economic effect”. Yet the Sherman Act’s use of “restraint of trade” “invokes the common law itself, and not merely the static content that the common law had assigned to the term in 1890.” The general restraint on alienation, especially in the age when then-Justice Hughes used the term, tended to evoke policy concerns extraneous to the question that controls here. Usually associated with land, not chattels, the rule arose from restrictions removing real property from the stream of commerce for generations. The Court should be cautious about putting dispositive weight on doctrines from antiquity but of slight relevance.
Dr. Miles, furthermore, treated vertical agreements a manufacturer makes with its distributors as analogous to a horizontal combination among competing distributors. In later cases, however, the Court rejected the approach of reliance on rules governing horizontal restraints when defining rules applicable to vertical ones. Our recent cases formulate antitrust principles in accordance with the appreciated differences in economic effect between vertical and horizontal agreements, differences the Dr. Miles Court failed to consider.
The reasons upon which Dr. Miles relied do not justify a per se rule. As a consequence, it is necessary to examine, in the first instance, the economic effects of vertical agreements to fix minimum resale prices, and to determine whether the per se rule is nonetheless appropriate.
Though each side of the debate can find sources to support its position, it suffices to say here that economics literature is replete with procompetitive justifications for a manufacturer’s use of resale price maintenance. The few recent studies documenting the competitive effects of resale price maintenance also cast doubt on the conclusion that the practice meets the criteria for a per se rule.
The justifications for vertical price restraints are similar to those for other vertical restraints. Minimum resale price maintenance can stimulate interbrand competition—the competition among manufacturers selling different brands of the same type of product—by reducing intrabrand competition—the competition among retailers selling the same brand. The promotion of interbrand competition is important because “the primary purpose of the antitrust laws is to protect [this type of] competition.” A single manufacturer’s use of vertical price restraints tends to eliminate intrabrand price competition; this in turn encourages retailers to invest in tangible or intangible services or promotional efforts that aid the manufacturer’s position as against rival manufacturers. Resale price maintenance also has the potential to give consumers more options so that they can choose among low-price, low-service brands; high-price, high-service brands; and brands that fall in between.
Absent vertical price restraints, the retail services that enhance interbrand competition might be underprovided. This is because discounting retailers can free ride on retailers who furnish services and then capture some of the increased demand those services generate. Consumers might learn, for example, about the benefits of a manufacturer’s product from a retailer that invests in fine showrooms, offers product demonstrations, or hires and trains knowledgeable employees. Or consumers might decide to buy the product because they see it in a retail establishment that has a reputation for selling high-quality merchandise. If the consumer can then buy the product from a retailer that discounts because it has not spent capital providing services or developing a quality reputation, the high-service retailer will lose sales to the discounter, forcing it to cut back its services to a level lower than consumers would otherwise prefer. Minimum resale price maintenance alleviates the problem because it prevents the discounter from undercutting the service provider. With price competition decreased, the manufacturer’s retailers compete among themselves over services.
Resale price maintenance, in addition, can increase interbrand competition by facilitating market entry for new firms and brands. “[N]ew manufacturers and manufacturers entering new markets can use the restrictions in order to induce competent and aggressive retailers to make the kind of investment of capital and labor that is often required in the distribution of products unknown to the consumer.” New products and new brands are essential to a dynamic economy, and if markets can be penetrated by using resale price maintenance there is a procompetitive effect.
Resale price maintenance can also increase interbrand competition by encouraging retailer services that would not be provided even absent free riding. It may be difficult and inefficient for a manufacturer to make and enforce a contract with a retailer specifying the different services the retailer must perform. Offering the retailer a guaranteed margin and threatening termination if it does not live up to expectations may be the most efficient way to expand the manufacturer’s market share by inducing the retailer’s performance and allowing it to use its own initiative and experience in providing valuable services.
While vertical agreements setting minimum resale prices can have procompetitive justifications, they may have anticompetitive effects in other cases; and unlawful price fixing, designed solely to obtain monopoly profits, is an ever present temptation. Resale price maintenance may, for example, facilitate a manufacturer cartel. An unlawful cartel will seek to discover if some manufacturers are undercutting the cartel’s fixed prices. Resale price maintenance could assist the cartel in identifying price-cutting manufacturers who benefit from the lower prices they offer. Resale price maintenance, furthermore, could discourage a manufacturer from cutting prices to retailers with the concomitant benefit of cheaper prices to consumers.
Vertical price restraints also “might be used to organize cartels at the retailer level.” A group of retailers might collude to fix prices to consumers and then compel a manufacturer to aid the unlawful arrangement with resale price maintenance. In that instance the manufacturer does not establish the practice to stimulate services or to promote its brand but to give inefficient retailers higher profits. Retailers with better distribution systems and lower cost structures would be prevented from charging lower prices by the agreement.
A horizontal cartel among competing manufacturers or competing retailers that decreases output or reduces competition in order to increase price is, and ought to be, per se unlawful. To the extent a vertical agreement setting minimum resale prices is entered upon to facilitate either type of cartel, it, too, would need to be held unlawful under the rule of reason. This type of agreement may also be useful evidence for a plaintiff attempting to prove the existence of a horizontal cartel.
Resale price maintenance, furthermore, can be abused by a powerful manufacturer or retailer. A dominant retailer, for example, might request resale price maintenance to forestall innovation in distribution that decreases costs. A manufacturer might consider it has little choice but to accommodate the retailer’s demands for vertical price restraints if the manufacturer believes it needs access to the retailer’s distribution network. A manufacturer with market power, by comparison, might use resale price maintenance to give retailers an incentive not to sell the products of smaller rivals or new entrants. As should be evident, the potential anticompetitive consequences of vertical price restraints must not be ignored or underestimated.
Notwithstanding the risks of unlawful conduct, it cannot be stated with any degree of confidence that resale price maintenance “always or almost always tend[s] to restrict competition and decrease output.” Vertical agreements establishing minimum resale prices can have either procompetitive or anticompetitive effects, depending upon the circumstances in which they are formed. And although the empirical evidence on the topic is limited, it does not suggest efficient uses of the agreements are infrequent or hypothetical. As the rule would proscribe a significant amount of procompetitive conduct, these agreements appear ill suited for per se condemnation.
Respondent contends, nonetheless, that vertical price restraints should be per se unlawful because of the administrative convenience of per se rules. That argument suggests per se illegality is the rule rather than the exception. This misinterprets our antitrust law. Per se rules may decrease administrative costs, but that is only part of the equation. Those rules can be counterproductive. They can increase the total cost of the antitrust system by prohibiting procompetitive conduct the antitrust laws should encourage. They also may increase litigation costs by promoting frivolous suits against legitimate practices. The Court has thus explained that administrative “advantages are not sufficient in themselves to justify the creation of per se rules,” and has relegated their use to restraints that are “manifestly anticompetitive”. Were the Court now to conclude that vertical price restraints should be per se illegal based on administrative costs, we would undermine, if not overrule, the traditional “demanding standards” for adopting per se rules. Any possible reduction in administrative costs cannot alone justify the Dr. Miles rule.
Respondent also argues the per se rule is justified because a vertical price restraint can lead to higher prices for the manufacturer’s goods. Respondent is mistaken in relying on pricing effects absent a further showing of anticompetitive conduct. For, as has been indicated already, the antitrust laws are designed primarily to protect interbrand competition, from which lower prices can later result. The Court, moreover, has evaluated other vertical restraints under the rule of reason even though prices can be increased in the course of promoting procompetitive effects. And resale price maintenance may reduce prices if manufacturers have resorted to costlier alternatives of controlling resale prices that are not per se unlawful.
Respondent’s argument, furthermore, overlooks that, in general, the interests of manufacturers and consumers are aligned with respect to retailer profit margins. The difference between the price a manufacturer charges retailers and the price retailers charge consumers represents part of the manufacturer’s cost of distribution, which, like any other cost, the manufacturer usually desires to minimize. A manufacturer has no incentive to overcompensate retailers with unjustified margins. The retailers, not the manufacturer, gain from higher retail prices. The manufacturer often loses; interbrand competition reduces its competitiveness and market share because consumers will “substitute a different brand of the same product.” As a general matter, therefore, a single manufacturer will desire to set minimum resale prices only if the “increase in demand resulting from enhanced service … will more than offset a negative impact on demand of a higher retail price.”
The implications of respondent’s position are far reaching. Many decisions a manufacturer makes and carries out through concerted action can lead to higher prices. A manufacturer might, for example, contract with different suppliers to obtain better inputs that improve product quality. Or it might hire an advertising agency to promote awareness of its goods. Yet no one would think these actions violate the Sherman Act because they lead to higher prices. The antitrust laws do not require manufacturers to produce generic goods that consumers do not know about or want. The manufacturer strives to improve its product quality or to promote its brand because it believes this conduct will lead to increased demand despite higher prices. The same can hold true for resale price maintenance.
Resale price maintenance, it is true, does have economic dangers. If the rule of reason were to apply to vertical price restraints, courts would have to be diligent in eliminating their anticompetitive uses from the market. This is a realistic objective, and certain factors are relevant to the inquiry. For example, the number of manufacturers that make use of the practice in a given industry can provide important instruction. When only a few manufacturers lacking market power adopt the practice, there is little likelihood it is facilitating a manufacturer cartel, for a cartel then can be undercut by rival manufacturers. Likewise, a retailer cartel is unlikely when only a single manufacturer in a competitive market uses resale price maintenance. Interbrand competition would divert consumers to lower priced substitutes and eliminate any gains to retailers from their price-fixing agreement over a single brand. Resale price maintenance should be subject to more careful scrutiny, by contrast, if many competing manufacturers adopt the practice.
The source of the restraint may also be an important consideration. If there is evidence retailers were the impetus for a vertical price restraint, there is a greater likelihood that the restraint facilitates a retailer cartel or supports a dominant, inefficient retailer. If, by contrast, a manufacturer adopted the policy independent of retailer pressure, the restraint is less likely to promote anticompetitive conduct. A manufacturer also has an incentive to protest inefficient retailer-induced price restraints because they can harm its competitive position.
As a final matter, that a dominant manufacturer or retailer can abuse resale price maintenance for anticompetitive purposes may not be a serious concern unless the relevant entity has market power. If a retailer lacks market power, manufacturers likely can sell their goods through rival retailers. And if a manufacturer lacks market power, there is less likelihood it can use the practice to keep competitors away from distribution outlets.
The rule of reason is designed and used to eliminate anticompetitive transactions from the market. This standard principle applies to vertical price restraints. A party alleging injury from a vertical agreement setting minimum resale prices will have, as a general matter, the information and resources available to show the existence of the agreement and its scope of operation. As courts gain experience considering the effects of these restraints by applying the rule of reason over the course of decisions, they can establish the litigation structure to ensure the rule operates to eliminate anticompetitive restraints from the market and to provide more guidance to businesses. Courts can, for example, devise rules over time for offering proof, or even presumptions where justified, to make the rule of reason a fair and efficient way to prohibit anticompetitive restraints and to promote procompetitive ones.
For all of the foregoing reasons, we think that were the Court considering the issue as an original matter, the rule of reason, not a per se rule of unlawfulness, would be the appropriate standard to judge vertical price restraints.
The judgment of the Court of Appeals is reversed, and the case is remanded for proceedings consistent with this opinion.
Notes and Questions
1. MSRP. Many suppliers, from book publishers to automobile manufacturers, print a “manufacturer’s suggested retail price” (MSRP) on the packaging or documentation of their products. How does this common practice differ from Leegin’s “Heart Store Program”? Is there an anticompetitive threat from MSRPs?
2. Injury. PSKS was not part of the Heart Store Program when it brought suit against Leegin, and the vertical restraint that it alleged to be anticompetitive was between Leegin and other retailers. What injury did PSKS allege? Isn’t a manufacturer entitled to sell its products to whomever it chooses? How could Leegin’s discontinuation of sales to PSKS violate the antitrust laws?
3. Resale price maintenance and price fixing. How does the Court differentiate resale price maintenance (RPM) from horizontal price fixing? Couldn’t the same procompetitive benefits that the Court identifies with respect to RPM be used to justify horizontal price fixing as well?
4. Value-added services. In finding procompetitive justifications for Leegin’s RPM program, the Court notes that “Many decisions a manufacturer makes and carries out through concerted action can lead to higher prices. A manufacturer might, for example, contract with different suppliers to obtain better inputs that improve product quality. Or it might hire an advertising agency to promote awareness of its goods. Yet no one would think these actions violate the Sherman Act because they lead to higher prices.” Leegin wanted retailers carrying its products to offer individualized customer attention and a high level of support. But was requiring retailers to charge minimum prices the best or most effective way to achieve this goal? What else might Leegin have done to ensure that retailers provided these enhanced services? Would these alternatives have been more or less likely than RPM to ensure that such enhanced services were provided?
5. Legislative reversals. Both federal and state legislative proposals have been made to reverse the effects of the Leegin decision. Some state efforts have even been successful.Footnote 17 Who would have an interest in reinstating the per se illegality rule for RPM? Would you support such an effort in your state?
6. Discounts and distributed retail. In an interview about the PSKS case, one customer said that she liked the 20 percent discount that Kay Stores offered on Leegin products, but when Kay Stores stopped carrying Leegin products she found them on eBay at a 50 percent discount.Footnote 18 Given the reality of massively distributed retail today, do RPM programs make business sense anymore?
7. Maximum prices. Leegin dealt with minimum prices that a manufacturer wished to impose on its retailers. What about maximum prices? Is any antitrust concern raised when a manufacturer requires its resellers to impose prices no higher than a set maximum? Isn’t a maximum price inherently good for consumers? In State Oil Co. v. Khan, 522 U.S. 3 (1997), the Supreme Court held that a vertical restraint on the maximum resale price of a product should be examined under the rule of reason, rather than constitute a per se violation of the antitrust laws. What procompetitive justifications can you find for maximum price restraints?
25.5 Unilateral Conduct: Tying
So far, we have discussed anticompetitive agreements among parties in either horizontal or vertical relationships, all falling under the banner of concerted conduct under Section 1 of the Sherman Act. But unilateral conduct, the subject of Section 2 of the Sherman Act, can also give rise to antitrust liability.
One such form of unilateral conduct is the tying arrangement or “tie-in,” in which one party agrees to sell, lease or license one product (the “tying product,” which is usually protected by the seller’s IP) only on the condition that the buyer also purchase from the seller another product (the “tied product,” which is often not covered by the seller’s IP).Footnote 19 The buyer who wishes to purchase, lease or license the tying product is thus left with no option but to purchase unwanted (or overpriced) tied products. And because the tying product is typically covered by the seller’s IP, the buyer has no choice but to obtain it from the seller.
As noted in Section 25.1, tying arrangements were once considered per se illegal – one of the Nine No-Nos of IP licensing. In Jefferson Parish Hosp. Dist. No. 2 v. Hyde, 466 U.S. 2, 12 (1984), the Supreme Court confirmed that tying arrangements remain per se illegal. However, the Court has also recognized a number of factors that tend to soften the application of the per se test in cases of tying. Thus, to establish illegal tying, the following four elements must be proved:
1. the existence of at least two distinct products or services;
2. the sale of the tying product or service is conditioned on the purchase of the tied product or service;
3. the defendant has sufficient economic or market power over the tying product to restrain competition for another product; and
4. the amount of commerce involved is not insubstantial.Footnote 20
In some circuits, courts have even permitted a defendant to introduce evidence that there was a legitimate business rationale for the alleged tie-in, causing many practitioners (as well as the DOJ and FTCFootnote 21) to view tying as being subject to the “rule of reason” for all practical purposes, notwithstanding the Supreme Court’s adherence to the per se label.
In tying cases there must be both a tying product and a tied product. The tying product can generally be covered by any form of IP – patent, copyright or trademark. The following case focuses on an alleged anticompetitive tie involving trademarks.
448 F.2d 43 (9th Cir. 1971)
MERRILL, CIRCUIT JUDGE
This antitrust suit is a class action in which certain franchisees of Chicken Delight seek treble damages for injuries allegedly resulting from illegal restraints imposed by Chicken Delight’s standard form franchise agreements. The restraints in question are Chicken Delight’s contractual requirements that franchisees purchase certain essential cooking equipment, dry-mix food items, and trademark bearing packaging exclusively from Chicken Delight as a condition of obtaining a Chicken Delight trademark license. These requirements are asserted to constitute a tying arrangement, unlawful per se under Sec. 1 of the Sherman Act.
After five weeks of trial to a jury in the District Court, plaintiffs moved for a directed verdict, requesting the court to rule upon four propositions of law: (1) That the contractual requirements constituted a tying arrangement as a matter of law; (2) that the alleged tying products – the Chicken Delight name, symbols, and system of operation – possessed sufficient economic power to condemn the tying arrangement as a matter of law; (3) that the tying arrangement had not, as a matter of law, been justified; and (4) that, as a matter of law, plaintiffs as a class had been injured by the arrangement.
The court ruled in favor of plaintiffs on all issues except part of the justification defense, which it submitted to the jury. On the questions submitted to it, the jury rendered special verdicts in favor of plaintiffs. Chicken Delight has taken this interlocutory appeal from the trial court rulings and verdicts.
Factual Background
Over its eighteen years existence, Chicken Delight has licensed several hundred franchisees to operate home delivery and pick-up food stores. It charged its franchisees no franchise fees or royalties. Instead, in exchange for the license granting the franchisees the right to assume its identity and adopt its business methods and to prepare and market certain food products under its trademark, Chicken Delight required its franchisees to purchase a specified number of cookers and fryers and to purchase certain packaging supplies and mixes exclusively from Chicken Delight. The prices fixed for these purchases were higher than, and included a percentage markup which exceeded that of, comparable products sold by competing suppliers.
The Existence of an Unlawful Tying Arrangement
In order to establish that there exists an unlawful tying arrangement plaintiffs must demonstrate First, that the scheme in question involves two distinct items and provides that one (the tying product) may not be obtained unless the other (the tied product) is also purchased. Times-Picayune Publishing Co. v. United States, 345 U.S. 594, 613–614 (1953). Second, that the tying product possesses sufficient economic power appreciably to restrain competition in the tied product market. Northern Pacific R. Co. v. United States, 356 U.S. 1, 6 (1958). Third, that a “not insubstantial” amount of commerce is affected by the arrangement. International Salt Co. v. United States, 332 U.S. 392 (1947). Chicken Delight concedes that the third requirement has been satisfied. It disputes the existence of the first two. Further it asserts that, even if plaintiffs should prevail with respect to the first two requirements, there is a fourth issue: whether there exists a special justification for the particular tying arrangement in question.
Two Products
The District Court ruled that the license to use the Chicken Delight name, trademark, and method of operations was “a tying item in the traditional sense,” the tied items being the cookers and fryers, packaging products, and mixes.
The court’s decision to regard the trademark or franchise license as a distinct tying item is not without precedent. In Susser v. Carvel Corp., 332 F.2d 505 (2d Cir. 1964), all three judges regarded as a tying product the trademark license to ice cream outlet franchisees, who were required to purchase ice cream, toppings and other supplies from the franchisor. Nevertheless, Chicken Delight argues that the District Court’s conclusion conflicts with the purposes behind the strict rules governing the use of tying arrangements.
The hallmark of a tie-in is that it denies competitors free access to the tied product market, not because the party imposing the arrangement has a superior product in that market, but because of the power or leverage exerted by the tying product. Northern Pac. R. Co. v. United States, supra. Rules governing tying arrangements are designed to strike, not at the mere coupling of physically separable objects, but rather at the use of a dominant desired product to compel the purchase of a second, distinct commodity. In effect, the forced purchase of the second, tied product is a price exacted for the purchase of the dominant, tying product. By shutting competitors out of the tied product market, tying arrangements serve hardly any purpose other than the suppression of competition.
Chicken Delight urges us to hold that its trademark and franchise licenses are not items separate and distinct from the packaging, mixes, and equipment, which it says are essential components of the franchise system. To treat the combined sale of all these items as a tie-in for antitrust purposes, Chicken Delight maintains, would be like applying the antitrust rules to the sale of a car with its tires or a left shoe with the right. Therefore, concludes Chicken Delight, the lawfulness of the arrangement should not be measured by the rules governing tie-ins. We disagree.
In determining whether an aggregation of separable items should be regarded as one or more items for tie-in purposes in the normal cases of sales of products the courts must look to the function of the aggregation. Consideration is given to such questions as whether the amalgamation of products resulted in cost savings apart from those reductions in sales expenses and the like normally attendant upon any tie-in, and whether the items are normally sold or used as a unit with fixed proportions.
Where one of the products sold as part of an aggregation is a trademark or franchise license, new questions are injected. In determining whether the license and the remaining (“tied”) items in the aggregation are to be regarded as distinct items which can be traded in distinct markets consideration must be given to the function of trademarks.
The burgeoning business of franchising has made trademark licensing a widespread commercial practice and has resulted in the development of a new rationale for trademarks as representations of product quality. This is particularly true in the case of a franchise system set up not to distribute the trademarked goods of the franchisor, but, as here, to conduct a certain business under a common trademark or trade name. Under such a type of franchise, the trademark simply reflects the goodwill and quality standards of the enterprise which it identifies. As long as the system of operation of the franchisees lives up to those quality standards and remains as represented by the mark so that the public is not misled, neither the protection afforded the trademark by law nor the value of the trademark to the licensee depends upon the source of the components.
This being so, it is apparent that the goodwill of the Chicken Delight trademark does not attach to the multitude of separate articles used in the operation of the licensed system or in the production of its end product. It is not what is used, but how it is used and what results that have given the system and its end product their entitlement to trademark protection. It is to the system and the end product that the public looks with the confidence that established goodwill has created.
Thus, sale of a franchise license, with the attendant rights to operate a business in the prescribed manner and to benefit from the goodwill of the trade name, in no way requires the forced sale by the franchisor of some or all of the component articles. Just as the quality of a copyrighted creation cannot by a tie-in be appropriated by a creation to which the copyright does not relate, United States v. Paramount Pictures, Inc., 334 U.S. 131, 158 (1948), so here attempts by tie-in to extend the trademark protection to common articles (which the public does not and has no reason to connect with the trademark) simply because they are said to be essential to production of that which is the subject of the trademark, cannot escape antitrust scrutiny.
Chicken Delight’s assertions that only a few essential items were involved in the arrangement does not give us cause to reach a different conclusion. The relevant question is not whether the items are essential to the franchise, but whether it is essential to the franchise that the items be purchased from Chicken Delight. This raises not the issue of whether there is a tie-in but rather the issue of whether the tie-in is justifiable, a subject to be discussed below.
We conclude that the District Court was not in error in ruling as matter of law that the arrangement involved distinct tying and tied products.
Economic Power
Under the per se theory of illegality, plaintiffs are required to establish not only the existence of a tying arrangement but also that the tying product possesses sufficient economic power to appreciably restrain free competition in the tied product markets. Northern Pacific R. Co. v. United States, supra.
Chicken Delight points out that while it was an early pioneer in the fast food franchising field, the record establishes that there has recently been a dramatic expansion in this area, with the advent of numerous firms, including many chicken franchising systems, all competing vigorously with each other. Under the circumstances, it contends that the existence of the requisite market dominance remained a jury question.
The District Court ruled, however, that Chicken Delight’s unique registered trademark, in combination with its demonstrated power to impose a tie-in, established as matter of law the existence of sufficient market power to bring the case within the Sherman Act.
We agree.
It can hardly be denied that the Chicken Delight trademark is distinctive; that it possesses goodwill and public acceptance unique to it and not enjoyed by other fast food chains. It is now clear that sufficient economic power is to be presumed where the tying product is patented or copyrighted.
Just as the patent or copyright forecloses competitors from offering the distinctive product on the market, so the registered trademark presents a legal barrier against competition. It is not the nature of the public interest that has caused the legal barrier to be erected that is the basis for the presumption, but the fact that such a barrier does exist. Accordingly we see no reason why the presumption that exists in the case of the patent and copyright does not equally apply to the trademark.
Thus we conclude that the District Court did not err in ruling as matter of law that the tying product – the license to use the Chicken Delight trademark – possessed sufficient market power to bring the case within the Sherman Act.
Justification
Chicken Delight maintains that, even if its contractual arrangements are held to constitute a tying arrangement, it was not an unreasonable restraint under the Sherman Act. Three different bases for justification are urged.
First, Chicken Delight contends that the arrangement was a reasonable device for measuring and collecting revenue. There is no authority for justifying a tying arrangement on this ground. Unquestionably, there exist feasible alternative methods of compensation for the franchise licenses, including royalties based on sales volume or fees computed per unit of time, which would neither involve tie-ins nor have undesirable anticompetitive consequences.
Second, Chicken Delight advances as justification the fact that when it first entered the fast food field in 1952 it was a new business and was then entitled to the protection afforded by United States v. Jerrold Electronics Corp., supra, 187 F.Supp. 545. As to the period here involved – 1963 to 1970 – it contends that transition to a different arrangement would be difficult if not economically impossible.
We find no merit in this contention. Whatever claim Chicken Delight might have had to a new business defense in 1952 – a question we need not decide – the defense cannot apply to the 1963–70 period. To accept Chicken Delight’s argument would convert the new business justification into a perpetual license to operate in restraint of trade.
The third justification Chicken Delight offers is the “marketing identity” purpose, the franchisor’s preservation of the distinctiveness, uniformity and quality of its product. In the case of a trademark this purpose cannot be lightly dismissed. Not only protection of the franchisor’s goodwill is involved. The licensor owes an affirmative duty to the public to assure that in the hands of his licensee the trademark continues to represent that which it purports to represent. For a licensor, through relaxation of quality control, to permit inferior products to be presented to the public under his licensed mark might well constitute a misuse of the mark.
However, to recognize that such a duty exists is not to say that every means of meeting it is justified. Restraint of trade can be justified only in the absence of less restrictive alternatives. In cases such as this, where the alternative of specification is available, the language used in Standard Oil Co. v. United States, supra, 337 U.S. at 306, in our view states the proper test, applicable in the case of trademarks as well as in other cases:
the protection of the good will of the manufacturer of the tying device – fails in the usual situation because specification of the type and quality of the product to be used in connection with the tying device is protection enough. The only situation, indeed, in which the protection of good will may necessitate the use of tying clauses is where specifications for a substitute would be so detailed that they could not practicably be supplied.
The District Court found factual issues to exist as to whether effective quality control could be achieved by specification in the case of the cooking machinery and the dip and spice mixes. These questions were given to the jury under instructions; and the jury, in response to special interrogatories, found against Chicken Delight.
Notes and Questions
1. Tying product. In Chicken Delight, the “tying product” is the Chicken Delight trademark. Is a trademark a product? Does a trademark possess characteristics similar, for example, to a patented salt-depositing machine?
2. Market power. As noted by the court, “the tying product [must possess] sufficient economic power appreciably to restrain competition in the tied product market.” Clearly the owner of a trademark controls the use of that mark with respect to the relevant classes of goods and services. But is that the relevant market? Benjamin Klein and Lester Saft argue that “Chicken Delight, although it possesses a trademark, does not possess any economic power in the relevant market in which it operates – the fast food franchising (or perhaps, more generally, the franchising) market.”Footnote 22 According to Klein and Saft, Chicken Delight, a relatively small operation compared to fast-food giants such as McDonald’s and Kentucky Fried Chicken, had little market power, despite its trademark. How does this observation affect your view of the court’s conclusion that a tying arrangement existed?
3. Consideration. How was Chicken Delight compensated in this arrangement? Is it relevant that it charged its franchisees no franchise fees or royalties?
4. Tied products. Eleven years after Chicken Delight, in Krehl v. Baskin Robbins Ice Cream Co., 664 F.2d 1348 (9th Cir. 1982), the Ninth Circuit sought to distinguish Chicken Delight on the basis of the type of franchise arrangement that it used.
In Chicken Delight, we were confronted with a situation where the franchisor conditioned the grant of a franchise on the purchase of a catalogue of miscellaneous items used in the franchised business. These products were neither manufactured by the franchisor nor were they of a special design uniquely suited to the franchised business. Rather, they were commonplace paper products and packaging goods, readily available in the competitive market place. In evaluating this arrangement, we stated that, “in determining whether the (trademark) … and the remaining … items … are to be regarded as distinct items … consideration must be given to the function of trademarks.” Because the function of the trademark in Chicken Delight was merely to identify a distinctive business format, we found the nexus between the trademark and the tied products to be sufficiently remote to warrant treating them as separate products.
A determination of whether a trademark may appropriately be regarded as a separate product requires an inquiry into the relationship between the trademark and the products allegedly tied to its sale. In evaluating this relationship, consideration must be given to the type of franchising system involved. In Chicken Delight, we distinguished between two kinds of franchising systems: 1) the business format system; and 2) the distribution system. A business format franchise system is usually created merely to conduct business under a common trade name. The franchise outlet itself is generally responsible for the production and preparation of the system’s end product. The franchisor merely provides the trademark and, in some cases, supplies used in operating the franchised outlet and producing the system’s products. Under such a system, there is generally only a remote connection between the trademark and the products the franchisees are compelled to purchase. This is true because consumers have no reason to associate with the trademark, those component goods used either in the operation of the franchised store or in the manufacture of the end product. “Under such a type of franchise, the trade-mark simply reflects the goodwill and quality standards of the enterprise it identifies. As long as … franchisees (live) up to those quality standards … neither the protection afforded the trade-mark by law nor the value of the trade-mark … depends upon the source of the components.”
Where, as in Chicken Delight, the tied products are commonplace articles, the franchisor can easily maintain its quality standards through other means less intrusive upon competition. Accordingly, the coerced purchase of these items amounts to little more than an effort to impede competition on the merits in the market for the tied products.
Where a distribution type system, such as that employed by Baskin-Robbins, is involved, significantly different considerations are presented. Under the distribution type system, the franchised outlets serve merely as conduits through which the trademarked goods of the franchisor flow to the ultimate consumer. These goods are generally manufactured by the franchisor or, as in the present case, by its licensees according to detailed specifications. In this context, the trademark serves a different function. Instead of identifying a business format, the trademark in a distribution franchise system serves merely as a representation of the end product marketed by the system. “It is to the system and the end product that the public looks with the confidence that the established goodwill has created.” Consequently, sale of substandard products under the mark would dissipate this goodwill and reduce the value of the trademark. The desirability of the trademark is therefore utterly dependent upon the perceived quality of the product it represents. Because the prohibition of tying arrangements is designed to strike solely at the use of a dominant desired product to compel the purchase of a second undesired commodity, the tie-in doctrine can have no application where the trademark serves only to identify the alleged tied product. The desirability of the trademark and the quality of the product it represents are so inextricably interrelated in the mind of the consumer as to preclude any finding that the trademark is a separate item for tie-in purposes.
In the case at bar, the District Court found that the Baskin-Robbins trademark merely served to identify the ice cream products distributed by the franchise system. Based on our review of the record, we cannot say that this finding is clearly erroneous. Accordingly, we conclude that the District Court did not err in ruling that the Baskin-Robbins trademark lacked sufficient independent existence apart from the ice cream products allegedly tied to its sale, to justify a finding of an unlawful tying arrangement.
Affirmed.
Do you agree? Does it matter that the tied products in Chicken Delight included “cookers and fryers” and “dry-mix food items” in addition to “commonplace paper products and packaging goods, readily available in the competitive market place”?
5. Block booking. The practice of “block booking” in the motion picture industry involved the movie studio policy of licensing films to theaters and television networks only in packages that included both desirable and less desirable titles. As explained by the Supreme Court in United States v. Loew’s, Inc., 371 U.S. 38 (1962),
[a studio] negotiated four contracts that were found to be block booked. Station WTOP was to pay $118,800 for the license of 99 pictures, which were divided into three groups of 33 films, based on differences in quality. To get “Treasure of the Sierra Madre,” “Casablanca,” “Johnny Belinda,” “Sergeant York,” and “The Man Who Came to Dinner,” among others, WTOP also had to take such films as “Nancy Drew Troubleshooter,” “Tugboat Annie Sails Again,” “Kid Nightingale,” “Gorilla Man,” and “Tear Gas Squad.”
Thus, if the station wished to broadcast Casablanca, it also had to pay for The Gorilla Man and a host of other “B” movies, whether it wanted them or not. Block booking arrangements have generally been treated by the courts as tying arrangements, and have largely been condemned on that basis. Do you think that the result would be different if these arrangements had been evaluated under a “rule of reason” approach?
6. Platform software products and the rule of reason. In the government’s massive antitrust case against Microsoft, one of the allegations was that Microsoft illegally tied its Internet Explorer web browser (IE) to its ubiquitous Windows operating system by contractually requiring computer manufacturers to license a copy of IE with every copy of Windows and prohibiting them from removing or uninstalling IE from computers using Windows. The district court, applying the Supreme Court’s per se rule, found an illegal tie (87 F. Supp. 2d 30 (D.D.C. 2000)). On appeal, the DC Circuit (253 F.3d 34 (D.C. Cir. 2001)) questioned the per se rule itself, reasoning that
because of the pervasively innovative character of platform software markets, tying in such markets may produce efficiencies that courts have not previously encountered and thus the Supreme Court had not factored into the per se rule as originally conceived.
Among the examples of efficiencies that could have flowed from Microsoft’s tying of IE to Windows were ease of integration with third-party applications and consumer preference for an integrated product:
These arguments all point to one conclusion: we cannot comfortably say that bundling in platform software markets has so little “redeeming virtue,” and that there would be so “very little loss to society” from its ban, that “an inquiry into its costs in the individual case [can be] considered [] unnecessary.”
Accordingly, the Circuit remanded to the district court for reconsideration of the tying claim under the rule of reason. In view of the heightened burden imposed by the rule of reason test, the DOJ dropped its tying claim on remand.Footnote 23
7. No license, no chips? In order to obtain a license to the valuable Chicken Delight trademark (tying product), franchisees were required, among other things, to purchase Chicken Delight’s commodity packaging (tied products). In this context, consider FTC v. Qualcomm (N.D. Cal. 2018). There, Qualcomm was accused of enforcing a “no license – no chips” policy, under which smartphone manufacturers (OEMs) who desired to purchase Qualcomm’s wireless communication chips were required to enter into separate royalty-bearing patent license agreements. In finding that Qualcomm violated Section 2 of the Sherman Act (a monopolization claim – see Section 25.6), the district court explained,
Qualcomm wields its chip monopoly power to coerce OEMs to sign patent license agreements. Specifically, Qualcomm threatens to withhold OEMs’ chip supply until OEMs sign patent license agreements on Qualcomm’s preferred terms. In some cases, Qualcomm has even cut off OEMs’ chip supply, although the threat of cutting off chip supply has been more than sufficient to coerce OEMs into signing Qualcomm’s patent license agreements and avoiding the devastating loss of chip supply.Footnote 24
Interestingly, the court did not explicitly characterize Qualcomm’s “no license – no chips” policy as an illegal tying arrangement. Rather, it considered a range of Qualcomm’s licensing practices together, concluding that they “strangled competition” in the relevant chip markets and “harmed rivals, OEMs, and end consumers in the process.”Footnote 25 Is the district court describing a tying agreement here? If so, why not say so explicitly? Does it matter that both the presumably tying products (the chips) and the tied product (the license) are patented?
In any event, the Ninth Circuit reversed, holding that:
If Qualcomm were to refuse to license its SEPs to OEMs unless they first agreed to purchase Qualcomm’s chips (“no chips, no license”), then rival chip suppliers indeed might have an antitrust claim under both §§ 1 and 2 of the Sherman Act based on exclusionary conduct. This is because OEMs cannot sell their products without obtaining Qualcomm’s SEP licenses, so a “no chips, no license” policy would essentially force OEMs to either purchase Qualcomm’s chips or pay for both Qualcomm’s and a competitor’s chips (similar to the no-win situation faced by OEMs in the Caldera case). But unlike a hypothetical “no chips, no license” policy, “no license, no chips” is chip neutral: it makes no difference whether an OEM buys Qualcomm’s chip or a rival’s chips. The policy only insists that, whatever chip source an OEM chooses, the OEM pay Qualcomm for the right to practice the patented technologies embodied in the chip, as well as in other parts of the phone or other cellular device.Footnote 26
What does the Ninth Circuit view as the crucial difference between “no license – no chips” and “no chips – no license”? Why might the latter be a potential violation of the Sherman Act, but not the former?
25.6 Monopolization and Market Power
The possession of a monopoly in a given market is not itself a violation of the antitrust laws. Monopolies may be gained in a variety of legitimate ways including “growth or development as a consequence of a superior product, business acumen, or historic accident.”Footnote 27 Rather, it is the willful acquisition or maintenance of monopoly power through anticompetitive, predatory or exclusionary conduct that violates § 2 of the Sherman Act.
In order to prove a case of monopolization, the plaintiff must first show that the defendant had “market power” in a relevant market. As explained by the DOJ and FTC, “Market power is the ability profitably to maintain prices above, or output below, competitive levels for a significant period of time.”Footnote 28
Market power is always defined by reference to a particular market. In antitrust cases, two types of market are generally considered: product and geographic markets. Entire books have been written about the complex exercise of defining markets in antitrust cases.Footnote 29 Geographic markets are defined based on the ability of suppliers to sell beyond their immediate locations, taking into account factors such as transportation costs, buyer convenience and customer preferences. To grossly oversimplify, the principal factors that are evaluated when defining a product market include the degree to which different products can function as substitutes for one another, the degree of price elasticity among different products and the degree to which producers can easily shift from production of one product to another. Thus, in one well-known case involving an exclusive distribution arrangement among Häagen-Dazs and its distributors, potential markets could have included the market for all frozen desserts, packaged ice cream, packaged premium ice cream or packaged super-premium ice cream.Footnote 30
In United States v. Microsoft, the court established that the relevant market was “Intel-compatible PC operating systems” and that Microsoft controlled more than 95 percent of that market (253 F.3d at 51). Microsoft argued, unsuccessfully, that the market should have been defined to include non-Intel-compatible operating systems such as Mac OS, operating systems for non-PC devices such as handheld devices, and middleware products such as Netscape Navigator and Java. But the court, in applying the rule that “the relevant market must include all products reasonably interchangeable by consumers for the same purposes,” excluded these other products from the definition of Microsoft’s market (Id. at 52–54).
One particularly thorny issue in market definition is the role that IP rights play in defining a market. Some have argued that the owner of a patent, copyright or trade secret has a “monopoly” over the use of that right. But does that IP right give its owner real power over any particular market? The following case, in which an illegal tie was alleged, considers the issue.
547 U.S. 28 (2006)
STEVENS, JUSTICE
In Jefferson Parish Hospital Dist. No. 2 v. Hyde, 466 U. S. 2 (1984), we repeated the well-settled proposition that “if the Government has granted the seller a patent or similar monopoly over a product, it is fair to presume that the inability to buy the product elsewhere gives the seller market power.” This presumption of market power, applicable in the antitrust context when a seller conditions its sale of a patented product (the “tying” product) on the purchase of a second product (the “tied” product), has its foundation in the judicially created patent misuse doctrine. In 1988, Congress substantially undermined that foundation, amending the Patent Act to eliminate the market power presumption in patent misuse cases. 35 U. S. C. §271(d). The question presented to us today is whether the presumption of market power in a patented product should survive as a matter of antitrust law despite its demise in patent law. We conclude that the mere fact that a tying product is patented does not support such a presumption.
Petitioners, Trident, Inc., and its parent, Illinois Tool Works Inc., manufacture and market printing systems that include three relevant components: (1) a patented piezoelectric impulse ink jet printhead; (2) a patented ink container, consisting of a bottle and valved cap, which attaches to the printhead; and (3) specially designed, but unpatented, ink. Petitioners sell their systems to original equipment manufacturers (OEMs) who are licensed to incorporate the printheads and containers into printers that are in turn sold to companies for use in printing barcodes on cartons and packaging materials. The OEMs agree that they will purchase their ink exclusively from petitioners, and that neither they nor their customers will refill the patented containers with ink of any kind.
Respondent, Independent Ink, Inc., has developed an ink with the same chemical composition as the ink sold by petitioners. After an infringement action brought by Trident against Independent was dismissed for lack of personal jurisdiction, Independent … alleged that petitioners are engaged in illegal tying and monopolization in violation of §§1 and 2 of the Sherman Act.
After discovery, the District Court granted petitioners’ motion for summary judgment on the Sherman Act claims. It rejected respondent’s submission that petitioners “necessarily have market power in the market for the tying product as a matter of law solely by virtue of the patent on their printhead system, thereby rendering [the] tying arrangements per se violations of the antitrust laws.” Finding that respondent had submitted no affirmative evidence defining the relevant market or establishing petitioners’ power within it, the court concluded that respondent could not prevail on either antitrust claim.
After a careful review of the “long history of Supreme Court consideration of the legality of tying arrangements,” the Court of Appeals for the Federal Circuit reversed the District Court’s decision as to respondent’s §1 claim. We granted certiorari to undertake a fresh examination of the history of both the judicial and legislative appraisals of tying arrangements. Our review is informed by extensive scholarly comment and a change in position by the administrative agencies charged with enforcement of the antitrust laws.
American courts first encountered tying arrangements in the course of patent infringement litigation. Such a case came before this Court in Henry v. A. B. Dick Co., 224 U. S. 1 (1912), in which, as in the case we decide today, unpatented ink was the product that was “tied” to the use of a patented product through the use of a licensing agreement. Without commenting on the tying arrangement, the Court held that use of a competitor’s ink in violation of a condition of the agreement—that the rotary mimeograph “‘may be used only with the stencil, paper, ink and other supplies made by A. B. Dick Co.’”—constituted infringement of the patent on the machine. Chief Justice White dissented, explaining his disagreement with the Court’s approval of a practice that he regarded as an “attempt to increase the scope of the monopoly granted by a patent … which tend[s] to increase monopoly and to burden the public in the exercise of their common rights.” [I]n this Court’s subsequent cases reviewing the legality of tying arrangements we, too, embraced Chief Justice White’s disapproval of those arrangements.
In the years since A. B. Dick, four different rules of law have supported challenges to tying arrangements. They have been condemned as improper extensions of the patent monopoly under the patent misuse doctrine, as unfair methods of competition under §5 of the Federal Trade Commission Act, as contracts tending to create a monopoly under §3 of the Clayton Act, and as contracts in restraint of trade under §1 of the Sherman Act. In all of those instances, the justification for the challenge rested on either an assumption or a showing that the defendant’s position of power in the market for the tying product was being used to restrain competition in the market for the tied product. As we explained in Jefferson Parish, “[o]ur cases have concluded that the essential characteristic of an invalid tying arrangement lies in the seller’s exploitation of its control over the tying product to force the buyer into the purchase of a tied product that the buyer either did not want at all, or might have preferred to purchase elsewhere on different terms.”
Over the years, however, this Court’s strong disapproval of tying arrangements has substantially diminished. Rather than relying on assumptions, in its more recent opinions the Court has required a showing of market power in the tying product. Our early opinions consistently assumed that “[t]ying arrangements serve hardly any purpose beyond the suppression of competition.” Standard Oil Co., 337 U. S., at 305–306. In 1962, in Loew’s, 371 U. S., at 47–48, the Court relied on this assumption despite evidence of significant competition in the market for the tying product. And as recently as 1969, Justice Black, writing for the majority, relied on the assumption as support for the proposition “that, at least when certain prerequisites are met, arrangements of this kind are illegal in and of themselves, and no specific showing of unreasonable competitive effect is required.” Fortner Enterprises, Inc. v. United States Steel Corp., 394 U. S. 495, 498–499 (Fortner I). Explaining the Court’s decision to allow the suit to proceed to trial, he stated that “decisions rejecting the need for proof of truly dominant power over the tying product have all been based on a recognition that because tying arrangements generally serve no legitimate business purpose that cannot be achieved in some less restrictive way, the presence of any appreciable restraint on competition provides a sufficient reason for invalidating the tie.”
Reflecting a changing view of tying arrangements, four Justices dissented in Fortner I, arguing that the challenged “tie”—the extension of a $2 million line of credit on condition that the borrower purchase prefabricated houses from the defendant—might well have served a legitimate purpose. In his opinion, Justice White noted that promotional tie-ins may provide “uniquely advantageous deals” to purchasers. And Justice Fortas concluded that the arrangement was best characterized as “a sale of a single product with the incidental provision of financing.”
The dissenters’ view that tying arrangements may well be procompetitive ultimately prevailed; indeed, it did so in the very same lawsuit. After the Court remanded the suit in Fortner I, a bench trial resulted in judgment for the plaintiff, and the case eventually made its way back to this Court. Upon return, we unanimously held that the plaintiff’s failure of proof on the issue of market power was fatal to its case—the plaintiff had proved “nothing more than a willingness to provide cheap financing in order to sell expensive houses.” United States Steel Corp. v. Fortner Enterprises, Inc., 429 U. S. 610, 622 (1977) (Fortner II).
The assumption that “[t]ying arrangements serve hardly any purpose beyond the suppression of competition,” rejected in Fortner II, has not been endorsed in any opinion since. Instead, it was again rejected just seven years later in Jefferson Parish, where, as in Fortner II, we unanimously reversed a Court of Appeals judgment holding that an alleged tying arrangement constituted a per se violation of §1 of the Sherman Act. Like the product at issue in the Fortner cases, the tying product in Jefferson Parish—hospital services—was unpatented, and our holding again rested on the conclusion that the plaintiff had failed to prove sufficient power in the tying product market to restrain competition in the market for the tied product—services of anesthesiologists.
In rejecting the application of a per se rule that all tying arrangements constitute antitrust violations, we explained:
[W]e have condemned tying arrangements when the seller has some special ability—usually called “market power”—to force a purchaser to do something that he would not do in a competitive market …
Per se condemnation—condemnation without inquiry into actual market conditions—is only appropriate if the existence of forcing is probable. Thus, application of the per se rule focuses on the probability of anticompetitive consequences …
For example, if the Government has granted the seller a patent or similar monopoly over a product, it is fair to presume that the inability to buy the product elsewhere gives the seller market power. Any effort to enlarge the scope of the patent monopoly by using the market power it confers to restrain competition in the market for a second product will undermine competition on the merits in that second market. Thus, the sale or lease of a patented item on condition that the buyer make all his purchases of a separate tied product from the patentee is unlawful.
Notably, nothing in our opinion suggested a rebuttable presumption of market power applicable to tying arrangements involving a patent on the tying good. Instead, it described the rule that a contract to sell a patented product on condition that the purchaser buy unpatented goods exclusively from the patentee is a per se violation of §1 of the Sherman Act.
Justice O’Connor wrote separately in Jefferson Parish. In her opinion, she questioned not only the propriety of treating any tying arrangement as a per se violation of the Sherman Act, but also the validity of the presumption that a patent always gives the patentee significant market power, observing that the presumption was actually a product of our patent misuse cases rather than our antitrust jurisprudence. It is that presumption, a vestige of the Court’s historical distrust of tying arrangements, that we address squarely today.
Justice O’Connor was, of course, correct in her assertion that the presumption that a patent confers market power arose outside the antitrust context as part of the patent misuse doctrine. That doctrine had its origins in Motion Picture Patents Co. v. Universal Film Mfg. Co., 243 U. S. 502 (1917), which found no support in the patent laws for the proposition that a patentee may “prescribe by notice attached to a patented machine the conditions of its use and the supplies which must be used in the operation of it, under pain of infringement of the patent.” Although Motion Picture Patents Co. simply narrowed the scope of possible patent infringement claims, it formed the basis for the Court’s subsequent decisions creating a patent misuse defense to infringement claims when a patentee uses its patent “as the effective means of restraining competition with its sale of an unpatented article.” Morton Salt Co. v. G. S. Suppiger Co., 314 U.S. 488, 490 (1942).
Without any analysis of actual market conditions, these patent misuse decisions assumed that, by tying the purchase of unpatented goods to the sale of the patented good, the patentee was “restraining competition,” Morton Salt, 314 U. S., at 490, or “secur[ing] a limited monopoly of an unpatented material,” Mercoid, 320 U. S., at 664. In other words, these decisions presumed “[t]he requisite economic power” over the tying product such that the patentee could “extend [its] economic control to unpatented products.” Loew’s, 371 U. S., at 45–46.
The presumption that a patent confers market power migrated from patent law to antitrust law in International Salt. In that case, we affirmed a District Court decision holding that leases of patented machines requiring the lessees to use the defendant’s unpatented salt products violated §1 of the Sherman Act and §3 of the Clayton Act as a matter of law. Although the Court’s opinion does not discuss market power or the patent misuse doctrine, it assumes that “[t]he volume of business affected by these contracts cannot be said to be insignificant or insubstantial and the tendency of the arrangement to accomplishment of monopoly seems obvious.”
Indeed, later in the same Term we cited International Salt for the proposition that the license of “a patented device on condition that unpatented materials be employed in conjunction with the patented device” is an example of a restraint that is “illegal per se.” And in subsequent cases we have repeatedly grounded the presumption of market power over a patented device in International Salt.
Although the patent misuse doctrine and our antitrust jurisprudence became intertwined in International Salt, subsequent events initiated their untwining. This process has ultimately led to today’s reexamination of the presumption of per se illegality of a tying arrangement involving a patented product, the first case since 1947 in which we have granted review to consider the presumption’s continuing validity.
Three years before we decided International Salt, this Court had expanded the scope of the patent misuse doctrine to include not only supplies or materials used by a patented device, but also tying arrangements involving a combination patent and “unpatented material or [a] device [that] is itself an integral part of the structure embodying the patent.” Mercoid, 320 U. S., at 665. In reaching this conclusion, the Court explained that it could see “no difference in principle” between cases involving elements essential to the inventive character of the patent and elements peripheral to it; both, in the Court’s view, were attempts to “expan[d] the patent beyond the legitimate scope of its monopoly.”
[See discussion of the Patent Misuse Reform Act of 1988 in Section 24.2.]
While the 1988 [Patent Act] amendment does not expressly refer to the antitrust laws, it certainly invites a reappraisal of the per se rule announced in International Salt. A rule denying a patentee the right to enjoin an infringer is significantly less severe than a rule that makes the conduct at issue a federal crime punishable by up to 10 years in prison. It would be absurd to assume that Congress intended to provide that the use of a patent that merited punishment as a felony would not constitute “misuse.” Moreover, given the fact that the patent misuse doctrine provided the basis for the market power presumption, it would be anomalous to preserve the presumption in antitrust after Congress has eliminated its foundation.
After considering the congressional judgment reflected in the 1988 amendment, we conclude that tying arrangements involving patented products should be evaluated under the standards applied in cases like Fortner II and Jefferson Parish rather than under the per se rule applied in Morton Salt and Loew’s. While some such arrangements are still unlawful, such as those that are the product of a true monopoly or a marketwide conspiracy, that conclusion must be supported by proof of power in the relevant market rather than by a mere presumption thereof.
Rather than arguing that we should retain the rule of per se illegality, respondent contends that we should endorse a rebuttable presumption that patentees possess market power when they condition the purchase of the patented product on an agreement to buy unpatented goods exclusively from the patentee. Respondent recognizes that a large number of valid patents have little, if any, commercial significance, but submits that those that are used to impose tying arrangements on unwilling purchasers likely do exert significant market power. Hence, in respondent’s view, the presumption would have no impact on patents of only slight value and would be justified, subject to being rebutted by evidence offered by the patentee, in cases in which the patent has sufficient value to enable the patentee to insist on acceptance of the tie.
As we have already noted, the vast majority of academic literature recognizes that a patent does not necessarily confer market power. Similarly, while price discrimination may provide evidence of market power, particularly if buttressed by evidence that the patentee has charged an above-market price for the tied package, it is generally recognized that it also occurs in fully competitive markets. We are not persuaded that the combination of these two factors should give rise to a presumption of market power when neither is sufficient to do so standing alone. Rather, the lesson to be learned from International Salt and the academic commentary is the same: Many tying arrangements, even those involving patents and requirements ties, are fully consistent with a free, competitive market. For this reason, we reject both respondent’s proposed rebuttable presumption and their narrower alternative.
Congress, the antitrust enforcement agencies, and most economists have all reached the conclusion that a patent does not necessarily confer market power upon the patentee. Today, we reach the same conclusion, and therefore hold that, in all cases involving a tying arrangement, the plaintiff must prove that the defendant has market power in the tying product.
Notes and Questions
1. The prevalence of market power. The existence of power in a defined market is not only relevant to tying cases like Illinois Tool Works, but also to antitrust cases involving monopolization and to horizontal arrangements among competitors that are evaluated under the rule of reason. For an agreement to be condemned under the rule of reason, the parties must be shown both to have restrained competition in a defined product and geographic market, and to have played a significant role in that market. Why is market power so central to antitrust analysis? Why aren’t arrangements that are otherwise intended to disadvantage competitors condemned absent market power?
2. When does IP create market power? The Court in Illinois Tool Works held that the existence of a patent covering a product does not automatically result in market power in any relevant market. But when might a patent or other IP right confer market power on its owner? Would this determination depend on the industry? For example, would it be more likely to find that a patent holder had market power in the pharmaceutical industry versus the software industry?
3. The DOJ–FTC Guidelines. The Court in Illinois Tool Works notes that in their 1995 Guidelines on Antitrust and IP, the DOJ and FTC state that they “will not presume that a patent, copyright, or trade secret necessarily confers market power upon its owner.” This position appears to have influenced the Court in eliminating its own presumption that IP rights do create market power. What weight should courts, and the Supreme Court in particular, give to the prosecutorial views of the antitrust enforcement agencies? The DOJ and FTC revised their IP Guidelines in 2017, leaving their discussion of market power largely unchanged. But what if the agencies had reversed course and again established a presumption – to be used as a guide in their enforcement activities – that IP rights do create market power? Should the Court reassess its decision in Illinois Tool Works based on the revised DOJ–FTC position? Does it matter that the leaders of the DOJ and FTC are political appointees who change office periodically, particularly in election years?Footnote 31
4. Standards-essential patents and market power. In Chapter 20 we discussed technical standards bodies and standards-essential patents (SEPs). Assume that a SEP is essential to a standard that is used in 80 percent of all smartphones in the world. Does that SEP confer market power on its owner? What if the SEP is only one of 40,000 SEPs covering that standard? Professor Herbert Hovenkamp, one of the leading authorities on US antitrust law, writes:
Questions about the market power of individual SEP patents are … heavily derivative of questions about the power of the standard setting organization for which the patent is essential. If a patent is truly essential, then it has whatever power is enjoyed by the standard to which it is essential. Most large SSOs that employ SEPS and dominate their industries presumably have significant power. In that case, a properly identified SEP can be presumed to have market power as well. In many other settings, however, standards are less likely to have power for the simple reason that the organization is only one of many alternative standard setting organizations, or else because compliance with a standard is not all that valuable.Footnote 32
With the above caveat in mind, Professor Hovenkamp suggests that “FRAND status create a presumption of sufficient market power, which can be defeated by a showing that firms operating under the SSO can find a suitable substitute for the FRAND-encumbered patent in question, readily and at low cost.” Do you agree? Under what circumstances might the ownership of a SEP not create market power?
5. IP misuse versus antitrust. The Court in Illinois Tool Works states that “[a]lthough the patent misuse doctrine and our antitrust jurisprudence became intertwined in International Salt, subsequent events initiated their untwining.” As discussed in Chapter 24, patent misuse today is treated as a distinct category of wrong under the patent laws, and not as a form of antitrust violation. This means, of course, that an action for patent misuse can succeed without the elements that are necessary to prove an antitrust case, including, notably, the requirement of market power. Is this a good result? Are there reasons why patent misuse and antitrust law should be “retwined”?
6. Barriers to entry. Having a large share of a defined market alone is not sufficient to prove market power. An antitrust plaintiff must also show that the market occupied by an accused monopolist is subject to significant barriers to entry. For example, patents covering the major features of a product could make it impossible for competitors to enter the market for that product. But barriers to entry need not be imposed by formal legal exclusivities. In United States v. Microsoft, the court considered structural features of the software operating system market dominated by Microsoft’s Windows. It concluded that
(1) most consumers prefer operating systems for which a large number of applications have already been written; and (2) most developers prefer to write for operating systems that already have a substantial consumer base. This “chicken-and-egg” situation ensures that applications will continue to be written for the already dominant Windows, which in turn ensures that consumers will continue to prefer it over other operating systems.Footnote 33
Accordingly, Microsoft’s 95 percent share of the relevant operating system market plus the inherent difficulty that would be faced by any competing operating system combined to demonstrate that Microsoft possessed market power in the relevant market. What other forms of “structural” barriers to entry might play a role in a market power determination?
25.7 Refusals To Deal: Unilateral and Concerted
In general, a party is free to choose its business partners.Footnote 34 This precept is especially true with respect to IP. As discussed in Section 24.2, the Patent Misuse Reform Act of 1988 makes it clear that a patent holder is not liable for patent misuse because it “refused to license or use any rights to the patent” (35 U.S.C. § 271(d)(4)). Analogous rules exist under copyright and trade secret law. Thus, absent a contractual or other voluntary commitment to license IP rights to others (e.g., the FRAND commitments as discussed in Chapter 20), an IP owner may freely choose to grant licenses to some and refuse to grant licenses to others. Even the possession of market power does not automatically “impose on [an] intellectual property owner an obligation to license the use of that property to others.”Footnote 35
One potential exception to this general rule arises via the so-called “essential facilities” doctrine, under which a monopolist may be required to make available to its competitors some resource or facility that is essential to compete in the market.Footnote 36 The origin of this principle is often traced to United States v. Terminal R.R. Ass’n of St. Louis, 224 U.S. 383, 391–97 (1912), in which thirty-eight companies conspired to prevent their competitors from utilizing “every feasible means of railroad access to St. Louis,” including its only two rail bridges and ferry service. The Supreme Court struck down the arrangement as an unlawful restraint of trade and ordered the defendants to open membership in their association to “any existing or future railroad.” Though several cases have raised the specter that an IP right may be treated as an essential facility under the right circumstances, no case has yet held this.Footnote 37
Unlike unilateral refusals to grant licenses, which are seldom found to violate the antitrust laws, agreements to do so among competitors – colloquially known as “group boycotts” – are subject to per se liability under Section 1 of the Sherman Act. The following case explores this practice in the context of the distribution of copyrighted films.
909 F.2d 1245 (9th Cir. 1990)
BREWSTER, DISTRICT JUDGE
The Movie 1 & 2 (“The Movie”) appeals a district court judgment dismissing its case against numerous antitrust defendants. This case involves allegations that two motion picture exhibitors in Santa Cruz, California, entered into an illegal film licensing agreement in which 19 national film distributors participated, and that the exhibitors attempted to monopolize, conspired to monopolize, and did monopolize the film exhibition market in Santa Cruz. The United States District Court for the Northern District of California … granted the defendants’ multiple motions for summary judgment as to all of the antitrust claims.
Background
Appellant The Movie is a general partnership consisting of Harold Snyder and his two sons, David and Larry Snyder. In February of 1984, the Snyders opened a motion picture theatre in Santa Cruz, California. The two-screen theatre, which has 225 seats in each auditorium, is located in downtown Santa Cruz in a converted storefront which it shares with a moped shop. The Snyders’ intent was to exhibit both “commercial” and “art” films on a first-run basis.
The exhibitor defendants in this case were two of The Movie’s competitors, UA, which operates five theaters in Santa Cruz with a total of twelve screens, and the Nickelodeon, which operates two theatres with a total of four screens. The distributor defendants included ten major motion picture distributors (“Group I”) and nine smaller independent distribution companies (“Group II”).
The relevant geographic market in this case is the greater Santa Cruz area, which includes Aptos, Scotts Valley, and Capitola. The relevant product market is first-run motion pictures. Although theatres can either show “first-run” films or subsequently run “sub-run” films, first-run films provide the greatest grossing potential. The Santa Cruz area has only ten theatres at present. UA’s five theatres exhibit primarily first-run “commercial” films. The Nickelodeon’s two theatres exhibit primarily first-run and vintage “art” films. The only other competitors in Santa Cruz are two non-defendant independent exhibitors who apparently show primarily sub-run films.
This circuit has recognized the existence of relevant submarkets within a product market. We are satisfied with the appellant’s division of the relevant market in this case into two categories, “commercial” and “art” films.
The appellant alleges that The Movie was unable to obtain licenses to first-run commercial or art films from the defendant distributors, who concertedly refused to deal with it. Appellant alleges that the distributors cooperated in an illegal “split agreement” between UA and the Nickelodeon, whereby nearly all first-run commercial films were licensed to UA and nearly all first-run art films were licensed to the Nickelodeon. A split agreement is an exhibitor agreement which divides a normally competitive market by allocating films to particular members with the understanding that there will be no bidding among members for licensing rights to the films assigned.
Appellant alleges that the split agreement in this case was part of a boycott against The Movie, which had the purpose of eliminating it as a competitor, a restraint of trade in violation of section 1 of the Sherman Act.
Discussion
Section 1 of the Sherman Act prohibits “[e]very contract, combination … or conspiracy, in restraint of trade.” Appellant’s section 1 claims allege an illegal agreement between the exhibitors and the distributors in the form of a “group boycott” aimed at excluding The Movie from the Santa Cruz theatre market.
The Supreme Court has emphasized, however, that the Sherman Act does not restrict “the long recognized right of a trader … engaged in an entirely private business, freely to exercise his own independent discretion as to the parties with whom he will deal.” United States v. Colgate Co., 250 U.S. 300, 307 (1919). Because of a supplier’s right to choose his customers and set his own terms, antitrust plaintiffs are required to do more than merely allege conspiracy and unequal treatment in order to take a case to trial. According to the law of this circuit, once a defendant rebuts the allegations of conspiracy with “probative evidence supporting an alternative interpretation of a defendant’s conduct,” the plaintiff must come forward with specific factual support of its conspiracy allegations to avoid summary judgment.
The defendants in this case did offer some evidence from which a trier of fact could reasonably have found that their refusal to deal with The Movie was based on legitimate and sound business judgment. Following such a showing of a plausible and justifiable reason for a defendant’s conduct, a plaintiff must provide specific factual support for its allegations of conspiracy which tends to show that the defendant was not acting independently. Accordingly, we examine appellant’s evidence in support of its conspiracy allegations.
The Distributor Defendants
The distributors possessed an absolute right to refuse to license films to The Movie as long as their decisions were based upon independent business judgment. The distributors presented evidence to the trial court from which a trier of fact could find that the decision to license films to UA and the Nickelodeon rather than to The Movie was based on such factors as the perceived inferiority and consequently lower grossing potential of The Movie’s theatre house and the allegedly inferior terms offered in The Movie’s bids. Thus … the defendants rebutted the allegations of conspiracy, and it was incumbent upon the plaintiff to come forward with specific factual support of its conspiracy claim. We believe the plaintiff did present ample evidence to rebut defendants’ evidence of independent business decisions and to support plaintiff’s allegations of an illegal boycott. We, therefore, reverse the trial court’s summary adjudication of the section 1 claims against all of the Group I distributor defendants.
Appellees contend that the lower court’s record contained no admissible evidence or assertion of any defendant distributors’ having received superior bids from The Movie and having rejected them in favor of defendant exhibitors. While it could be argued, as appellees also urge here, that none of the appellant’s bids were superior, that determination is an issue of fact which should be decided by summary judgment only if the trial court can find that no reasonable jury could find on that question in favor of the non-moving party. Some of the bids were arguably superior.
There was evidence before the trial court indicating that these distributors had refused to even receive bids from The Movie until they received threatening correspondence from The Movie’s attorney. The distributors have cited no legitimate business justification for a refusal to even receive an exhibitor’s bid, nor can this court conceive of how such conduct could reflect sound business judgment. To the contrary, such behavior raises the inference that the distributors would not have licensed films to The Movie even if presented with consistent lucrative bids superior to those of the other exhibitors. This circuit has recognized that a distributor’s repeated rejection of lucrative bids in an anticompetitive market environment raises an inference of conspiratorial antitrust conduct. The evidence that UA reaped roughly 96.9% of all revenues from first-run commercial films shown in Santa Cruz reflects an anticompetitive market situation. In such an environment, the distributors’ refusal to even receive a new exhibitor’s bids “tends to exclude the possibility of independent action,” and at least raises an issue of fact as to their participation in the alleged boycott.
This circuit has recognized that it is not necessary for a plaintiff to show an explicit agreement among defendants in support of a Sherman Act conspiracy, and that concerted action may be inferred from circumstantial evidence of the defendant’s conduct and course of dealings. We conclude, therefore, that appellant did present sufficient evidence to present a triable issue on the section 1 claim of conspiracy to restrain trade in the form of a group boycott of appellant through split agreements. Our conclusion is reached in the context of evidence before the trial court of awards of films without any bids at all, bid negotiations excluding appellant, bid-tipping, adjustments to licensing agreements made to UA regularly, but to appellant rarely, if ever, and the statistics of film licenses awarded. The appellant should, therefore, have been allowed to proceed to trial on the section 1 claims against the Group I distributors. We accordingly reverse the trial court’s grant of summary judgment as to these defendants.
Evaluation of the Unreasonable Restraint of Trade Allegations Under the “Per Se” Rule or the “Rule of Reason”
To the extent that the district court held that a split agreement should be evaluated under the rule of reason because it constituted a non-price restraint of trade, the court erred. It should have applied the illegal per se rule.
Appellees contend that the district court referred to the rule of reason in mere dicta and, therefore, that the issue to which it referred cannot be the basis for a reversal. They argue that the district court never reached the question whether the rule of reason or the per se analysis should be used because both first require proof of an agreement, such as a split agreement, which the court failed to find. Since we find an issue of fact exists regarding the existence of a split agreement, we address the applicability of the “rule of reason” analysis.
This circuit has recently ruled on this issue. In Harkins, 850 F.2d at 486, we noted that per se treatment is appropriate “where joint efforts by firms disadvantage competitors by inducing suppliers or customers to deny relationships the competitors need in order to compete.” We concluded that an alleged split agreement, if proven, would be illegal per se. Appellees dispute the appellant’s reliance on Harkins on several grounds. First, they claim that the “per se rule” in that case was only dicta. Second, they claim that all cases finding per se treatment appropriate for a split agreement have demonstrated that the agreement was to depress film rentals to the distributors, eliminate guarantees to those distributors, or otherwise affect the terms of licensing for films, i.e., antitrust injury. Appellees contend that appellants have failed to even allege these factors. One of the cases relied on in Harkins, appellees point out, Northwest Wholesale Stationers, Inc. v. Pacific Stationery Printing Co., 472 U.S. 284 (1985), supports the proposition that a per se analysis is not appropriate where no antitrust injury has been alleged. The United States Supreme Court in that case found that plaintiff failed to prove an antitrust violation when it demonstrated injury to itself but not to competition.
In the instant case, however, the split agreement is allegedly employed to restrict entry of other exhibitors into the Santa Cruz market for any film. If so, such conduct would cause antitrust injury in the form of a boycott, a conspiracy in restraint of trade in violation of 15 U.S.C. § 1. In fact, in Northwest Wholesale Stationers, the court opined that in cases of group boycotts that directly or indirectly cut off necessary access to customers or suppliers, the per se rule applies because the likelihood of antitrust injury is clear.
On remand, the trial court should instruct the jury accordingly.
Notes and Questions
1. Unilateral versus concerted conduct. Why are unilateral refusals to license IP generally tolerated under the antitrust laws, but concerted refusals to license are not? Why is it that the Supreme Court has labeled collusion as “the supreme evil of antitrust”? Verizon Communications, Inc. v. Law Offices of Curtis V. Trinko, LLP, 540 U.S. 398, 408 (2004).
2. Market allocation or group boycott? As explained by the court in The Movie, “A split agreement is an exhibitor agreement which divides a normally competitive market by allocating films to particular members with the understanding that there will be no bidding among members for licensing rights to the films assigned.” On its face, this sounds like a market allocation scheme discussed in Section 25.3. Why did The Movie instead challenge the split agreement as a group boycott? How might the antitrust have differed between these two theories?
3. Antitrust injury. In Northwest Wholesale Stationers, the Supreme Court held that the plaintiff failed to prove an antitrust violation when it demonstrated injury to itself but not to competition. Why should that matter? Isn’t the plaintiff’s job in a lawsuit to prove that it was injured? Why would the Supreme Court deny recovery to a private plaintiff because it failed to prove injury to “competition” broadly writ? Should safeguarding overall market competition be the responsibility of the enforcement agencies rather than private plaintiffs?
25.8 Antitrust Issues and Due Process in Standard Setting
As discussed in Chapter 20, the development of technical interoperability standards is often conducted by groups of competitors under the auspices of one or more standards-development organizations (SDOs). Given the coordinated work of dozens of different competitors to produce shared technical specifications, standardization has long been the subject of antitrust scrutiny.
Today, the conduct of participants within an SDO is typically governed by detailed rules imposed by SDOs in order to limit antitrust liability, both for the SDO and for its participants. But this was not always the case. The following case explores some of the ways that participants in an SDO can act in a manner that is anticompetitive.
486 U.S. 492 (1988)
BRENNAN, JUSTICE
The National Fire Protection Association (Association) is a private, voluntary organization with more than 31,500 individual and group members representing industry, labor, academia, insurers, organized medicine, firefighters, and government. The Association, among other things, publishes product standards and codes related to fire protection through a process known as “consensus standard making.” One of the codes it publishes is the National Electrical Code (Code), which establishes product and performance requirements for the design and installation of electrical wiring systems. Revised every three years, the Code is the most influential electrical code in the nation. A substantial number of state and local governments routinely adopt the Code into law with little or no change; private certification laboratories, such as Underwriters Laboratories, normally will not list and label an electrical product that does not meet Code standards; many underwriters will refuse to insure structures that are not built in conformity with the Code, and many electrical inspectors, contractors, and distributors will not use a product that falls outside the Code.
Among the electrical products covered by the Code is electrical conduit, the hollow tubing used as a raceway to carry electrical wires through the walls and floors of buildings. Throughout the relevant period, the Code permitted using electrical conduit made of steel, and almost all conduit sold was in fact steel conduit. Starting in 1980, respondent began to offer plastic conduit made of polyvinyl chloride. Respondent claims its plastic conduit offers significant competitive advantages over steel conduit, including pliability, lower installed cost, and lower susceptibility to short circuiting. In 1980, however, there was also a scientific basis for concern that, during fires in high-rise buildings, polyvinyl chloride conduit might burn and emit toxic fumes.
Respondent initiated a proposal to include polyvinyl chloride conduit as an approved type of electrical conduit in the 1981 edition of the Code. Following approval by one of the Association’s professional panels, this proposal was scheduled for consideration at the 1980 annual meeting, where it could be adopted or rejected by a simple majority of the members present. Alarmed that, if approved, respondent’s product might pose a competitive threat to steel conduit, petitioner, the Nation’s largest producer of steel conduit, met to plan strategy with, among others, members of the steel industry, other steel conduit manufacturers, and its independent sales agents. They collectively agreed to exclude respondent’s product from the 1981 Code by packing the upcoming annual meeting with new Association members whose only function would be to vote against the polyvinyl chloride proposal.
Combined, the steel interests recruited 230 persons to join the Association and to attend the annual meeting to vote against the proposal. Petitioner alone recruited 155 persons – including employees, executives, sales agents, the agents’ employees, employees from two divisions that did not sell electrical products, and the wife of a national sales director. Petitioner and the other steel interests also paid over $100,000 for the membership, registration, and attendance expenses of these voters. At the annual meeting, the steel group voters were instructed where to sit and how and when to vote by group leaders who used walkie-talkies and hand signals to facilitate communication. Few of the steel group voters had any of the technical documentation necessary to follow the meeting. None of them spoke at the meeting to give their reasons for opposing the proposal to approve polyvinyl chloride conduit. Nonetheless, with their solid vote in opposition, the proposal was rejected and returned to committee by a vote of 394 to 390. Respondent appealed the membership’s vote to the Association’s Board of Directors, but the Board denied the appeal on the ground that, although the Association’s rules had been circumvented, they had not been violated.Footnote 38
In October, 1981, respondent brought this suit in Federal District Court, alleging that petitioner and others had unreasonably restrained trade in the electrical conduit market in violation of § 1 of the Sherman Act. A bifurcated jury trial began in March, 1985. Petitioner conceded that it had conspired with the other steel interests to exclude respondent’s product from the Code, and that it had a pecuniary interest to do so. The jury, instructed under the rule of reason that respondent carried the burden of showing that the anticompetitive effects of petitioner’s actions outweighed any procompetitive benefits of standard-setting, found petitioner liable. In answers to special interrogatories, the jury found that petitioner did not violate any rules of the Association and acted, at least in part, based on a genuine belief that plastic conduit was unsafe, but that petitioner nonetheless did “subvert” the consensus standard-making process of the Association. The jury also made special findings that petitioner’s actions had an adverse impact on competition, were not the least restrictive means of expressing petitioner’s opposition to the use of polyvinyl chloride conduit in the marketplace, and unreasonably restrained trade in violation of the antitrust laws. The jury then awarded respondent damages, to be trebled, of $3.8 million for lost profits resulting from the effect that excluding polyvinyl chloride conduit from the 1981 Code had of its own force in the marketplace. No damages were awarded for injuries stemming from the adoption of the 1981 Code by governmental entities.
[The Court’s discussion of the Noerr–Pennington doctrine, which immunizes certain conduct that can be characterized as petitioning the government, is omitted.]
Typically, private standard-setting associations, like the Association in this case, include members having horizontal and vertical business relations. There is no doubt that the members of such associations often have economic incentives to restrain competition and that the product standards set by such associations have a serious potential for anticompetitive harm. See American Society of Mechanical Engineers, Inc. v. Hydrolevel Corp., 456 U. S. 556 (1982). Agreement on a product standard is, after all, implicitly an agreement not to manufacture, distribute, or purchase certain types of products. Accordingly, private standard-setting associations have traditionally been objects of antitrust scrutiny. When, however, private associations promulgate safety standards based on the merits of objective expert judgments and through procedures that prevent the standard-setting process from being biased by members with economic interests in stifling product competition, those private standards can have significant procompetitive advantages. It is this potential for procompetitive benefits that has led most lower courts to apply rule-of-reason analysis to product standard-setting by private associations.
[T]he validity of [petitioner’s efforts to influence the Code] must … be evaluated under the standards of conduct set forth by the antitrust laws that govern the private standard-setting process. The antitrust validity of these efforts is not established, without more, by petitioner’s literal compliance with the rules of the Association, for the hope of procompetitive benefits depends upon the existence of safeguards sufficient to prevent the standard-setting process from being biased by members with economic interests in restraining competition. An association cannot validate the anticompetitive activities of its members simply by adopting rules that fail to provide such safeguards …
What petitioner may not do (without exposing itself to possible antitrust liability for direct injuries) is bias the process by, as in this case, stacking the private standard-setting body with decisionmakers sharing their economic interest in restraining competition.
Notes and Questions
1. The antitrust issue. The Allied Tube case was not decided on antitrust grounds, and the Court’s discussion of the antitrust issues is largely dicta. Nevertheless, the Court clearly recognized the potential for antitrust violations in the defendants’ conduct. Under what theories might antitrust liability lie in this case?
2. Inadvertent collusion? The Court in Allied Tube notes that “the jury found that petitioner did not violate any rules of the Association and acted, at least in part, based on a genuine belief that plastic conduit was unsafe, but that petitioner nonetheless did ‘subvert’ the consensus standard-making process of the Association.” If Allied Tube did not violate any NFPA rules, and actually thought that plastic was an unsafe material for electrical conduit, could it be found liable for violating the Sherman Act? Should there be liability for inadvertent or negligent harm to competition?
3. More bad behavior at SDOs. The Court in Allied Tube cites its earlier decision involving the American Society of Mechanical Engineers (ASME). Like Allied Tube, ASME v. Hydrolevel, 456 U.S. 556 (1982), involved allegedly bad behavior at a large SDO. Specifically, the chair of an ASME subcommittee responsible for certifying the compliance of boiler pressure valves with ASME standards ruled that a competitor’s valves did not meet the standards and were thus unsafe. The Supreme Court held that ASME itself could be held liable for these misrepresentations, as the weight of the SDO’s reputation greatly enhanced the anticompetitive effects of its members’ conduct. Why do you think SDOs offer a particularly attractive venue for anticompetitive conduct? Unlike ASME, the NFPA itself was not charged with anticompetitive conduct. To what degree do you think SDOs should be liable for the anticompetitive conduct of their members? Based on the facts of Allied Tube, should NFPA have shared antitrust liability with Allied Tube and its allies?
4. Circular A-119 and SDO due process. In the late 1970s, observers began to appreciate both the power of SDOs to shape industry practices and their potential to foster anticompetitive behavior. At the same time, there was a strong movement in the United States to shift technical activity from the government to the private sector. In 1980, the Office of Management and Budget (OMB) released a memorandum known as OMB Circular A-119 to the heads of federal agencies.Footnote 39 Circular A-119 encouraged each federal agency to adopt privately developed “voluntary standards” in lieu of governmentally developed standards when specifying the characteristics of goods and services to be procured by the agency. In order to qualify as an SDO developing “voluntary standards,” the SDO had to abide by a list of “due process and other basic criteria” set out in Circular A-119. These criteria included having public meetings, broadly based representation, consensus decision-making, an appeals process and so forth. Circular A-119 has evolved over the years, and now covers both federal procurement and regulatory activities. Due in part to Circular A-119, the Supreme Court’s holdings in ASME and Allied Tube and other national and international legal developments, most SDOs today have adopted rules imposing due process requirements (openness, balance, consensus, appeal) on their standardization activities.Footnote 40 Why are due process requirements important for technical standards development, which might seem like a value-neutral technical activity?
5. Due process and policy making. The anticompetitive activity condemned in cases like ASME and Allied Tube related to an SDO’s standardization activities – is a particular pressure valve compliant? Is PVC an appropriate material for electrical conduit? As a result, the due process requirements that SDOs implemented in the wake of these cases and Circular A-119 focused largely on the standardization process: how standards are proposed, developed, debated and approved at an SDO. But what about the SDO’s own internal policies? Must the SDO members follow similar due process requirements when formulating, say, the SDO’s patent policy? This question has been hotly debated in recent years as SDOs such as the IEEE have adopted policies that are opposed by some SDO members (see Chapter 20). Is adopting an SDO policy different than developing a technical standard? Is the antitrust risk the same for SDO policies as it is for technical standards? Should the same due process requirements apply in both contexts?Footnote 41
25.9 Reverse Payment Settlements: “Pay for Delay”
570 U.S. 136 (2013)
BREYER, JUSTICE,
Company A sues Company B for patent infringement. The two companies settle under terms that require (1) Company B, the claimed infringer, not to produce the patented product until the patent’s term expires, and (2) Company A, the patentee, to pay B many millions of dollars. Because the settlement requires the patentee to pay the alleged infringer, rather than the other way around, this kind of settlement agreement is often called a “reverse payment” settlement agreement. And the basic question here is whether such an agreement can sometimes unreasonably diminish competition in violation of the antitrust laws. See, e.g., 15 U.S.C. § 1 (Sherman Act prohibition of “restraint[s] of trade or commerce”).
In this case, the Eleventh Circuit dismissed a Federal Trade Commission (FTC) complaint claiming that a particular reverse payment settlement agreement violated the antitrust laws. In doing so, the Circuit stated that a reverse payment settlement agreement generally is “immune from antitrust attack so long as its anticompetitive effects fall within the scope of the exclusionary potential of the patent.” And since the alleged infringer’s promise not to enter the patentee’s market expired before the patent’s term ended, the Circuit found the agreement legal and dismissed the FTC complaint. In our view, however, reverse payment settlements such as the agreement alleged in the complaint before us can sometimes violate the antitrust laws. We consequently hold that the Eleventh Circuit should have allowed the FTC’s lawsuit to proceed.
A
Apparently most if not all reverse payment settlement agreements arise in the context of pharmaceutical drug regulation, and specifically in the context of suits brought under statutory provisions allowing a generic drug manufacturer (seeking speedy marketing approval) to challenge the validity of a patent owned by an already-approved brand-name drug owner. We consequently describe four key features of the relevant drug-regulatory framework established by the Drug Price Competition and Patent Term Restoration Act of 1984. That Act is commonly known as the Hatch–Waxman Act.
First, a drug manufacturer, wishing to market a new prescription drug, must submit a New Drug Application to the federal Food and Drug Administration (FDA) and undergo a long, comprehensive, and costly testing process, after which, if successful, the manufacturer will receive marketing approval from the FDA.
Second, once the FDA has approved a brand-name drug for marketing, a manufacturer of a generic drug can obtain similar marketing approval through use of abbreviated procedures. The Hatch–Waxman Act permits a generic manufacturer to file an Abbreviated New Drug Application specifying that the generic has the “same active ingredients as,” and is “biologically equivalent” to, the already-approved brand-name drug. In this way the generic manufacturer can obtain approval while avoiding the “costly and time-consuming studies” needed to obtain approval “for a pioneer drug.”
Third, the Hatch–Waxman Act sets forth special procedures for identifying, and resolving, related patent disputes. It requires the pioneer brand-name manufacturer to list in its New Drug Application the “number and the expiration date” of any relevant patent. And it requires the generic manufacturer in its Abbreviated New Drug Application to “assure the FDA” that the generic “will not infringe” the brand-name’s patents.
The generic can provide this assurance in one of several ways. It can certify that the brand-name manufacturer has not listed any relevant patents. It can certify that any relevant patents have expired. It can request approval to market beginning when any still-in-force patents expire. Or, it can certify that any listed, relevant patent “is invalid or will not be infringed by the manufacture, use, or sale” of the drug described in the Abbreviated New Drug Application. Taking this last-mentioned route (called the “paragraph IV” route), automatically counts as patent infringement, and often “means provoking litigation.” If the brand-name patentee brings an infringement suit within 45 days, the FDA then must withhold approving the generic, usually for a 30–month period, while the parties litigate patent validity (or infringement) in court.
Fourth, Hatch–Waxman provides a special incentive for a generic to be the first to file an Abbreviated New Drug Application taking the paragraph IV route. That applicant will enjoy a period of 180 days of exclusivity (from the first commercial marketing of its drug). During that period of exclusivity no other generic can compete with the brand-name drug. If the first-to-file generic manufacturer can overcome any patent obstacle and bring the generic to market, this 180–day period of exclusivity can prove valuable, possibly worth several hundred million dollars. Indeed, the Generic Pharmaceutical Association said in 2006 that the “vast majority of potential profits for a generic drug manufacturer materialize during the 180–day exclusivity period.” The 180-day exclusivity period, however, can belong only to the first generic to file.
1
In 1999, Solvay Pharmaceuticals, a respondent here, filed a New Drug Application for a brand-name drug called AndroGel. The FDA approved the application in 2000. In 2003, Solvay obtained a relevant patent and disclosed that fact to the FDA, as Hatch–Waxman requires.
Later the same year another respondent, Actavis, Inc. (then known as Watson Pharmaceuticals), filed an Abbreviated New Drug Application for a generic drug modeled after AndroGel. Subsequently, Paddock Laboratories, also a respondent, separately filed an Abbreviated New Drug Application for its own generic product. Both Actavis and Paddock certified under paragraph IV that Solvay’s listed patent was invalid and their drugs did not infringe it. A fourth manufacturer, Par Pharmaceutical, likewise a respondent, did not file an application of its own but joined forces with Paddock, agreeing to share the patent litigation costs in return for a share of profits if Paddock obtained approval for its generic drug.
Solvay initiated paragraph IV patent litigation against Actavis and Paddock. Thirty months later the FDA approved Actavis’ first-to-file generic product, but, in 2006, the patent-litigation parties all settled. Under the terms of the settlement Actavis agreed that it would not bring its generic to market until August 31, 2015, 65 months before Solvay’s patent expired (unless someone else marketed a generic sooner). Actavis also agreed to promote AndroGel to urologists. The other generic manufacturers made roughly similar promises. And Solvay agreed to pay millions of dollars to each generic—$12 million in total to Paddock; $60 million in total to Par; and an estimated $19–$30 million annually, for nine years, to Actavis. The companies described these payments as compensation for other services the generics promised to perform, but the FTC contends the other services had little value. According to the FTC the true point of the payments was to compensate the generics for agreeing not to compete against AndroGel until 2015.
2
On January 29, 2009, the FTC filed this lawsuit against all the settling parties, namely, Solvay, Actavis, Paddock, and Par. The FTC’s complaint (as since amended) alleged that respondents violated § 5 of the Federal Trade Commission Act by unlawfully agreeing “to share in Solvay’s monopoly profits, abandon their patent challenges, and refrain from launching their low-cost generic products to compete with AndroGel for nine years.” The District Court held that these allegations did not set forth an antitrust law violation. It accordingly dismissed the FTC’s complaint. The FTC appealed.
The Court of Appeals for the Eleventh Circuit affirmed the District Court. It wrote that “absent sham litigation or fraud in obtaining the patent, a reverse payment settlement is immune from antitrust attack so long as its anticompetitive effects fall within the scope of the exclusionary potential of the patent.”
The FTC sought certiorari. Because different courts have reached different conclusions about the application of the antitrust laws to Hatch–Waxman-related patent settlements, we granted the FTC’s petition.
A
Solvay’s patent, if valid and infringed, might have permitted it to charge drug prices sufficient to recoup the reverse settlement payments it agreed to make to its potential generic competitors. And we are willing to take this fact as evidence that the agreement’s “anticompetitive effects fall within the scope of the exclusionary potential of the patent.” But we do not agree that that fact, or characterization, can immunize the agreement from antitrust attack.
For one thing, to refer, as the Circuit referred, simply to what the holder of a valid patent could do does not by itself answer the antitrust question. The patent here may or may not be valid, and may or may not be infringed. “[A] valid patent excludes all except its owner from the use of the protected process or product”. And that exclusion may permit the patent owner to charge a higher-than-competitive price for the patented product. But an invalidated patent carries with it no such right. And even a valid patent confers no right to exclude products or processes that do not actually infringe. The paragraph IV litigation in this case put the patent’s validity at issue, as well as its actual preclusive scope. The parties’ settlement ended that litigation. The FTC alleges that in substance, the plaintiff agreed to pay the defendants many millions of dollars to stay out of its market, even though the defendants did not have any claim that the plaintiff was liable to them for damages. That form of settlement is unusual. And, for reasons discussed in Part II-B, infra, there is reason for concern that settlements taking this form tend to have significant adverse effects on competition.
Given these factors, it would be incongruous to determine antitrust legality by measuring the settlement’s anticompetitive effects solely against patent law policy, rather than by measuring them against procompetitive antitrust policies as well. And indeed, contrary to the Circuit’s view that the only pertinent question is whether “the settlement agreement … fall[s] within” the legitimate “scope” of the patent’s “exclusionary potential,” this Court has indicated that patent and antitrust policies are both relevant in determining the “scope of the patent monopoly”—and consequently antitrust law immunity—that is conferred by a patent.
Thus, the Court in Line Material explained that “the improper use of [a patent] monopoly,” is “invalid” under the antitrust laws and resolved the antitrust question in that case by seeking an accommodation “between the lawful restraint on trade of the patent monopoly and the illegal restraint prohibited broadly by the Sherman Act.” To strike that balance, the Court asked questions such as whether “the patent statute specifically gives a right” to restrain competition in the manner challenged; and whether “competition is impeded to a greater degree” by the restraint at issue than other restraints previously approved as reasonable. In short, rather than measure the length or amount of a restriction solely against the length of the patent’s term or its earning potential, as the Court of Appeals apparently did here, this Court answered the antitrust question by considering traditional antitrust factors such as likely anticompetitive effects, redeeming virtues, market power, and potentially offsetting legal considerations present in the circumstances, such as here those related to patents. See Part II-B, infra. Whether a particular restraint lies “beyond the limits of the patent monopoly” is a conclusion that flows from that analysis and not, as the Chief Justice suggests, its starting point.
For another thing, this Court’s precedents make clear that patent-related settlement agreements can sometimes violate the antitrust laws. In United States v. Singer Mfg. Co., 374 U.S. 174 (1963), for example, two sewing machine companies possessed competing patent claims; a third company sought a patent under circumstances where doing so might lead to the disclosure of information that would invalidate the other two firms’ patents. All three firms settled their patent-related disagreements while assigning the broadest claims to the firm best able to enforce the patent against yet other potential competitors. The Court did not examine whether, on the assumption that all three patents were valid, patent law would have allowed the patents’ holders to do the same. Rather, emphasizing that the Sherman Act “imposes strict limitations on the concerted activities in which patent owners may lawfully engage,” it held that the agreements, although settling patent disputes, violated the antitrust laws. And that, in important part, was because “the public interest in granting patent monopolies” exists only to the extent that “the public is given a novel and useful invention” in “consideration for its grant.”
Similarly, both within the settlement context and without, the Court has struck down overly restrictive patent licensing agreements—irrespective of whether those agreements produced supra-patent-permitted revenues. We concede that in United States v. General Elec. Co., 272 U.S. 476 (1926), the Court permitted a single patentee to grant to a single licensee a license containing a minimum resale price requirement. But in Line Material, the Court held that the antitrust laws forbid a group of patentees, each owning one or more patents, to cross-license each other, and, in doing so, to insist that each licensee maintain retail prices set collectively by the patent holders. The Court was willing to presume that the single-patentee practice approved in General Electric was a “reasonable restraint” that “accords with the patent monopoly granted by the patent law,” but declined to extend that conclusion to multiple-patentee agreements: “As the Sherman Act prohibits agreements to fix prices, any arrangement between patentees runs afoul of that prohibition and is outside the patent monopoly.” In New Wrinkle, 342 U.S., at 378, the Court held roughly the same, this time in respect to a similar arrangement in settlement of a litigation between two patentees, each of which contended that its own patent gave it the exclusive right to control production. That one or the other company (we may presume) was right about its patent did not lead the Court to confer antitrust immunity. Far from it, the agreement was found to violate the Sherman Act.
Finally in Standard Oil Co. (Indiana), the Court upheld cross-licensing agreements among patentees that settled actual and impending patent litigation, which agreements set royalty rates to be charged third parties for a license to practice all the patents at issue (and which divided resulting revenues). But, in doing so, Justice Brandeis, writing for the Court, warned that such an arrangement would have violated the Sherman Act had the patent holders thereby “dominate[d]” the industry and “curtail[ed] the manufacture and supply of an unpatented product.” These cases do not simply ask whether a hypothetically valid patent’s holder would be able to charge, e.g., the high prices that the challenged patent-related term allowed. Rather, they seek to accommodate patent and antitrust policies, finding challenged terms and conditions unlawful unless patent law policy offsets the antitrust law policy strongly favoring competition.
Finally, the Hatch–Waxman Act itself does not embody a statutory policy that supports the Eleventh Circuit’s view. Rather, the general procompetitive thrust of the statute, its specific provisions facilitating challenges to a patent’s validity, see Part I-A, supra, and its later-added provisions requiring parties to a patent dispute triggered by a paragraph IV filing to report settlement terms to the FTC and the Antitrust Division of the Department of Justice, all suggest the contrary. Those interested in legislative history may also wish to examine the statements of individual Members of Congress condemning reverse payment settlements in advance of the 2003 amendments. See, e.g., 148 Cong. Rec. 14437 (2002) (remarks of Sen. Hatch) (“It was and is very clear that the [Hatch–Waxman Act] was not designed to allow deals between brand and generic companies to delay competition”).
The Eleventh Circuit’s conclusion finds some degree of support in a general legal policy favoring the settlement of disputes. The Circuit’s related underlying practical concern consists of its fear that antitrust scrutiny of a reverse payment agreement would require the parties to litigate the validity of the patent in order to demonstrate what would have happened to competition in the absence of the settlement. Any such litigation will prove time consuming, complex, and expensive. The antitrust game, the Circuit may believe, would not be worth that litigation candle.
We recognize the value of settlements and the patent litigation problem. But we nonetheless conclude that this patent-related factor should not determine the result here. Rather, five sets of considerations lead us to conclude that the FTC should have been given the opportunity to prove its antitrust claim.
First, the specific restraint at issue has the “potential for genuine adverse effects on competition.” The payment in effect amounts to a purchase by the patentee of the exclusive right to sell its product, a right it already claims but would lose if the patent litigation were to continue and the patent were held invalid or not infringed by the generic product. Suppose, for example, that the exclusive right to sell produces $50 million in supracompetitive profits per year for the patentee. And suppose further that the patent has 10 more years to run. Continued litigation, if it results in patent invalidation or a finding of noninfringement, could cost the patentee $500 million in lost revenues, a sum that then would flow in large part to consumers in the form of lower prices.
We concede that settlement on terms permitting the patent challenger to enter the market before the patent expires would also bring about competition, again to the consumer’s benefit. But settlement on the terms said by the FTC to be at issue here—payment in return for staying out of the market—simply keeps prices at patentee-set levels, potentially producing the full patent-related $500 million monopoly return while dividing that return between the challenged patentee and the patent challenger. The patentee and the challenger gain; the consumer loses. Indeed, there are indications that patentees sometimes pay a generic challenger a sum even larger than what the generic would gain in profits if it won the paragraph IV litigation and entered the market. The rationale behind a payment of this size cannot in every case be supported by traditional settlement considerations. The payment may instead provide strong evidence that the patentee seeks to induce the generic challenger to abandon its claim with a share of its monopoly profits that would otherwise be lost in the competitive market.
But, one might ask, as a practical matter would the parties be able to enter into such an anticompetitive agreement? Would not a high reverse payment signal to other potential challengers that the patentee lacks confidence in its patent, thereby provoking additional challenges, perhaps too many for the patentee to “buy off?” Two special features of Hatch–Waxman mean that the answer to this question is “not necessarily so.” First, under Hatch–Waxman only the first challenger gains the special advantage of 180 days of an exclusive right to sell a generic version of the brand-name product. See Part I-A, supra. And as noted, that right has proved valuable—indeed, it can be worth several hundred million dollars. Subsequent challengers cannot secure that exclusivity period, and thus stand to win significantly less than the first if they bring a successful paragraph IV challenge. That is, if subsequent litigation results in invalidation of the patent, or a ruling that the patent is not infringed, that litigation victory will free not just the challenger to compete, but all other potential competitors too (once they obtain FDA approval). The potential reward available to a subsequent challenger being significantly less, the patentee’s payment to the initial challenger (in return for not pressing the patent challenge) will not necessarily provoke subsequent challenges. Second, a generic that files a paragraph IV after learning that the first filer has settled will (if sued by the brand-name) have to wait out a stay period of (roughly) 30 months before the FDA may approve its application, just as the first filer did. These features together mean that a reverse payment settlement with the first filer (or, as in this case, all of the initial filers) “removes from consideration the most motivated challenger, and the one closest to introducing competition.” The dissent may doubt these provisions matter, but scholars in the field tell us that “where only one party owns a patent, it is virtually unheard of outside of pharmaceuticals for that party to pay an accused infringer to settle the lawsuit.” 1 H. Hovenkamp, M. Janis, M. Lemley, & C. Leslie, IP and Antitrust § 15.3, p. 15–45, n. 161 (2d ed. Supp. 2011). It may well be that Hatch–Waxman’s unique regulatory framework, including the special advantage that the 180-day exclusivity period gives to first filers, does much to explain why in this context, but not others, the patentee’s ordinary incentives to resist paying off challengers (i.e., the fear of provoking myriad other challengers) appear to be more frequently overcome.
Second, these anticompetitive consequences will at least sometimes prove unjustified. As the FTC admits, offsetting or redeeming virtues are sometimes present. The reverse payment, for example, may amount to no more than a rough approximation of the litigation expenses saved through the settlement. That payment may reflect compensation for other services that the generic has promised to perform—such as distributing the patented item or helping to develop a market for that item. There may be other justifications. Where a reverse payment reflects traditional settlement considerations, such as avoided litigation costs or fair value for services, there is not the same concern that a patentee is using its monopoly profits to avoid the risk of patent invalidation or a finding of noninfringement. In such cases, the parties may have provided for a reverse payment without having sought or brought about the anticompetitive consequences we mentioned above. But that possibility does not justify dismissing the FTC’s complaint. An antitrust defendant may show in the antitrust proceeding that legitimate justifications are present, thereby explaining the presence of the challenged term and showing the lawfulness of that term under the rule of reason.
Third, where a reverse payment threatens to work unjustified anticompetitive harm, the patentee likely possesses the power to bring that harm about in practice. At least, the “size of the payment from a branded drug manufacturer to a prospective generic is itself a strong indicator of power”—namely, the power to charge prices higher than the competitive level. An important patent itself helps to assure such power. Neither is a firm without that power likely to pay “large sums” to induce “others to stay out of its market.” In any event, the Commission has referred to studies showing that reverse payment agreements are associated with the presence of higher-than-competitive profits—a strong indication of market power.
Fourth, an antitrust action is likely to prove more feasible administratively than the Eleventh Circuit believed. The Circuit’s holding does avoid the need to litigate the patent’s validity (and also, any question of infringement). But to do so, it throws the baby out with the bath water, and there is no need to take that drastic step. That is because it is normally not necessary to litigate patent validity to answer the antitrust question (unless, perhaps, to determine whether the patent litigation is a sham). An unexplained large reverse payment itself would normally suggest that the patentee has serious doubts about the patent’s survival. And that fact, in turn, suggests that the payment’s objective is to maintain supracompetitive prices to be shared among the patentee and the challenger rather than face what might have been a competitive market—the very anticompetitive consequence that underlies the claim of antitrust unlawfulness. The owner of a particularly valuable patent might contend, of course, that even a small risk of invalidity justifies a large payment. But, be that as it may, the payment (if otherwise unexplained) likely seeks to prevent the risk of competition. And, as we have said, that consequence constitutes the relevant anticompetitive harm. In a word, the size of the unexplained reverse payment can provide a workable surrogate for a patent’s weakness, all without forcing a court to conduct a detailed exploration of the validity of the patent itself.
Fifth, the fact that a large, unjustified reverse payment risks antitrust liability does not prevent litigating parties from settling their lawsuit. They may, as in other industries, settle in other ways, for example, by allowing the generic manufacturer to enter the patentee’s market prior to the patent’s expiration, without the patentee paying the challenger to stay out prior to that point. Although the parties may have reasons to prefer settlements that include reverse payments, the relevant antitrust question is: What are those reasons? If the basic reason is a desire to maintain and to share patent-generated monopoly profits, then, in the absence of some other justification, the antitrust laws are likely to forbid the arrangement.
In sum, a reverse payment, where large and unjustified, can bring with it the risk of significant anticompetitive effects; one who makes such a payment may be unable to explain and to justify it; such a firm or individual may well possess market power derived from the patent; a court, by examining the size of the payment, may well be able to assess its likely anticompetitive effects along with its potential justifications without litigating the validity of the patent; and parties may well find ways to settle patent disputes without the use of reverse payments. In our view, these considerations, taken together, outweigh the single strong consideration—the desirability of settlements—that led the Eleventh Circuit to provide near-automatic antitrust immunity to reverse payment settlements.
The FTC urges us to hold that reverse payment settlement agreements are presumptively unlawful and that courts reviewing such agreements should proceed via a “quick look” approach, rather than applying a “rule of reason.” We decline to do so. In California Dental, we held (unanimously) that abandonment of the “rule of reason” in favor of presumptive rules (or a “quick-look” approach) is appropriate only where “an observer with even a rudimentary understanding of economics could conclude that the arrangements in question would have an anticompetitive effect on customers and markets.” (Breyer, J., concurring in part and dissenting in part). We do not believe that reverse payment settlements, in the context we here discuss, meet this criterion.
That is because the likelihood of a reverse payment bringing about anticompetitive effects depends upon its size, its scale in relation to the payor’s anticipated future litigation costs, its independence from other services for which it might represent payment, and the lack of any other convincing justification. The existence and degree of any anticompetitive consequence may also vary as among industries. These complexities lead us to conclude that the FTC must prove its case as in other rule-of-reason cases.
It is so ordered.
Notes and Questions
1. Size matters. In Actavis, Justice Breyer repeatedly focuses on the size of the settlement payment (up to $270 million to Actavis over nine years, and lesser amounts to two other generic manufacturers), reasoning that “a court, by examining the size of the payment, may well be able to assess its likely anticompetitive effects along with its potential justifications without litigating the validity of the patent.” How can the size of a payment give clues as to anticompetitive conduct? Does the overall size of the market matter? For instance, is Solvay’s $171–270 million payment to Actavis large in comparison to its $500 million in anticipated profits from AndroGel?
2. Market power. In a dissenting opinion, Chief Justice Roberts suggests that the Court should have asked whether the challenged settlement agreement “gives Solvay monopoly power beyond what the patent already gave it.” Why does he feel that this is the relevant legal question? How does Justice Breyer address this concern?
3. Injury. Justice Breyer states that under the terms of the settlement agreement, “the consumer loses,” as generic entry typically drives down the price of prescription drugs. But while consumer prices may be higher than they otherwise would be, is this a harm to competition constituting a violation of the antitrust laws (see Section 25.7, Note 3)? How so? Are any competitors harmed by the settlement among Solvay and the generic manufacturers?
4. Permissible settlements. Notwithstanding the result in Actavis, branded pharmaceutical manufacturers continue to settle patents disputes with generic drug manufacturers. In fact, the number of such settlements has increased since the Actavis decision. According to the FTC (which collects data on pharmaceutical patent settlements),Footnote 42 in fiscal year 2012 pharmaceutical companies reported 88 final settlements of patent litigation. That figure increased to 232 settlements in 2016. The difference, of course, is that far fewer of the settlements post-Actavis contained reverse payments or other forms of compensation to the generic manufacturer. Thus, in 2004, none of the final settlements reported to the FTC included reverse payments. Then, when lower courts started to approve such payments in 2005, the number of reverse payments began to increase. The FTC reports that in 2006 and 2007, 40–50 percent of all final settlements filed with the FTC included reverse payments. By 2016, no reverse payment settlements were reported. What do these statistics imply about the responsiveness of private industry to changes in the antitrust laws?
5. No-AG agreements. In the aftermath of Actavis, pharmaceutical firms found creative ways to structure patent settlements to delay generic entry, while at the same time avoiding explicit pay-for-delay arrangements. One of those methods involved a branded pharmaceutical firm’s ability, after patent expiration, to launch a generic version of its own drug, called an “authorized generic,” or AG. An AG is not prohibited from entering the market during the first generic filer’s 180-day exclusivity period under the Hatch–Waxman Act. Price competition between the AG and the first-filer’s generic have the potential to erode the first-filer’s profit during the 180-day exclusivity period by up to 60 percent. For lucrative drugs, that margin can translate into hundreds of millions of dollars.Footnote 43 Thus, pharmaceutical firms realized that a branded manufacturer’s promise to refrain from introducing an AG during the first-filer’s exclusivity period had a clear cash value. Accordingly, firms began to enter into settlement agreements in which a generic first-filer would withdraw its challenge to a pharmaceutical patent and agree not to enter the market for a number of years. Instead of paying the generic firm (as Solvay did in Actavis), the pharmaceutical firm would agree not to release its own generic version of the drug during the generic manufacturer’s 180-day period of exclusivity. Not surprisingly, these no-AG agreements were soon found to be equivalent to the pay-for-delay settlements condemned in Actavis. See King Drug Co. of Florence, Inc. v. SmithKline Beecham Corp., 791 F.3d 388 (3d Cir. 2015) (Lamictal Direct Purchaser Litigation).
6. Other forms of compensation. Even with direct pay-for-delay and no-AG settlements out of the picture, enterprising pharmaceutical firms have found ways to entice generic manufacturers to delay their entry into lucrative drug markets. These arrangements include declining royalty structures in which a generic’s obligation to pay royalties to a branded pharmaceutical manufacturer is substantially reduced or eliminated if the branded manufacturer sells an AG, or the transfer of valuable products or equipment by the branded pharmaceutical manufacturer to the generic manufacturer. Is it realistic to hope that all such arrangements will eventually be addressed (and prohibited) by the courts, or is it inevitable that creative attorneys will constantly figure out ways to circumvent the latest judicial decision to achieve the ends of their clients? Would legislation in this area help? If so, what legislation might you propose?
Summary Contents
As we saw in Chapter 25, agreements among competitors that restrain trade can violate Section 1 of the Sherman Act. Such anticompetitive agreements can involve trademarks, copyrights, patents and other intellectual property (IP) rights. If they seek to fix prices, allocate markets or impose similar restraints on competition, such agreements are per se illegal; otherwise they are evaluated under the rule of reason, balancing their procompetitive and anticompetitive effects.
In this chapter we will consider an important category of agreements among competitors – those in which IP rights are combined or “pooled” for various purposes. The first documented patent pool in the United States was formed in 1856 by three leading manufacturers of sewing machines.Footnote 1 Since then, IP pools have evolved and grown in complexity. Though the specifics vary from pool to pool, at the most general level, IP pools involve the aggregation and centralized licensing of IP rights held by different parties. In some cases, this centralized licensing function is carried out by one of the pool members, and in others it is performed by an independent pool administrator. Some pools grant licenses only to pool members, while others make licenses available to members and nonmembers alike. The crux of an IP pooling arrangement today is typically the aggregation of the pool members’ rights for licensing to users in a single transaction, with the proceeds of that transaction allocated among the pool members according to some predetermined formula. Such pooling arrangements can have numerous procompetitive effects, but without certain precautions, they can also harm or reduce competition.
The crux of an IP pooling arrangement is the aggregation of the pool members’ rights for more convenient licensing.
As we will discuss in the remainder of this chapter, IP pools vary in a number of important respects, but they often share a number of key features, including the following:
Rights are licensed (or assigned) by the members to a centralized pool administrator (one of the members or an independent third party).
The administrator grants licenses of the pooled rights to third-party licensees/users.
The pooled rights are licensed as a bundle, not separately.
Any interested party may obtain a license.
Royalties are charged to all licensees on a consistent basis.
Licenses are granted using relatively simple, standardized form agreements.
Licenses are nonexclusive.
Income received by the pool is allocated to the pool members according to a predetermined formula, usually after the deduction of administrative fees and charges.
As you review the materials in this chapter, bear in mind that IP pools have impacted a broad range of industries over the past century, from motion pictures and recorded music to aviation and automobiles to semiconductors and telecommunications.Footnote 2 Pools have enabled transactions involving dozens, hundreds or thousands of individual IP rights that otherwise might have been impossible to effect, but some have crossed the line into anticompetitive territory. The complexity in structuring, forming and operating effective IP pools arises to a large degree from walking the tightrope between procompetitive and anticompetitive features.
26.1 Theories of Ip Pooling: Efficiency and Enablement
There are two fundamental motivating forces behind IP pooling, which I refer to as efficiency and enablement. Efficiency is relatively easy to grasp. If a firm holds twelve patents covering different aspects of an electric motor, it is more efficient for a motor manufacturer to license all twelve in a single transaction than to license them one by one. The manufacturer can thus pay a single royalty for each motor that it sells, and does not have to determine which motors practice which patents and account for each separately. As we saw in Section 24.4, parties to a licensing transaction may find the convenience of licensing a bundle of patents to be mutually beneficial, even if the royalty remains constant as some of the patents in the bundle expire (Automatic Radio v. Hazeltine (U.S. 1950)). Such package licensing runs afoul of the antitrust and patent misuse laws only when it becomes coercive (Zenith v. Hazeltine (U.S. 1969)).
So, if efficiencies can be gained by licensing a single holder’s patents in a bundle, then it stands to reason that bundling patents held by multiple patent holders should create even greater efficiencies. Thus, in the example above, instead of one firm holding twelve patents covering electric motors, suppose that twelve different firms each held one such patent. Then, in order to make electric motors, a manufacturer would have to negotiate successfully with twelve different parties – a substantially more costly and time-consuming proposition. But aggregating the twelve firms’ patents into a single pool and licensing them together, as a single bundle, would enable the manufacturer, again, to acquire the necessary rights in a single transaction: a substantial gain in efficiency.
The efficiency justification for IP pools is even more pronounced with respect to copyrights. As discussed in Chapter 16, every composer, lyricist and musician holds a copyright interest in the songs that he or she creates, and the public broadcast and performance of music potentially involves thousands of copyright licenses. The aggregation and pooling of these rights is thus essential to distribution of music, film and other copyrighted works. Performing rights organizations such as ASCAP, BMI and SEASAC, discussed in Section 16.2, have aggregated and pooled copyrights in musical works for more than a century, thereby enabling the broad dissemination of musical works through radio broadcast, live performance and online distribution channels. As we saw in Section 25.5 (Note 5), the Hollywood studios of the mid-twentieth century sought to package their films into bundles that they licensed to movie theaters and television stations for public viewing. By and large, these “block booking” arrangements, in which popular films like Casablanca were bundled with B-movies like The Gorilla Man, and in which the distributor had no choice but to pay for them all, have been held to constitute illegal tying arrangements. Even so, it is not hard to see the transactional efficiencies that studios, as well as theaters and television networks, would enjoy by conducting business with large bundles of content, rather than individual titles. When a few licensors each control a large number of copyrighted works, pooling is a natural inclination.
But pooling is useful not only to reduce the number of individual licenses that must be negotiated. It also serves the important, and related, function of enabling market activity by assembling complementary rights. In an influential 1998 paper,Footnote 3 Michael Heller and Rebecca Eisenberg identify a phenomenon known as an “anticommons,” a situation in which the rights necessary to accomplish a particular task (e.g., building a motor, developing a drug) are held by dispersed parties that are difficult to assemble. This phenomenon is also known as a patent or IP “thicket.” Heller and Eisenberg observe that “a [scarce] resource is prone to underuse in a ‘tragedy of the anticommons’ when multiple owners each have a right to exclude others … and no one has an effective privilege of use.” In other words, if a set of IP rights is required to manufacture a particular product, and a potential manufacturer is unable to acquire the necessary permissions from each of the different rights holders, then it will not be legally permitted to produce the product.
Heller and Eisenberg analogize the anticommons that developed among retail operators in the Soviet Union to patents covering biomedical innovations, theorizing that a large number of patents held by different parties could stifle lifesaving innovations. One potential solution to the anticommons problem is pooling: “When the background legal rules threaten to waste resources, people often rearrange rights sensibly and create order through private arrangements.” Pooling of necessary or blocking IP rights, then, enables the production of goods that would otherwise be absent from the market. Or, as economist Carl Shapiro has written, patent pooling is a “natural and effective method[] used by market participants to cut through the patent thicket.”Footnote 4
IP pooling thus accomplishes two related but distinct functions: increasing transactional efficiency by reducing the number of license negotiations in which any given licensee must engage, and clearing blocking IP positions to enable the broader creation of goods covered by IP.
Notes and Questions
1. Nonexclusivity. Almost all IP pools license their pooled assets on a nonexclusive basis. Why do you think this is? What would be the disadvantage of licensing pooled assets on an exclusive basis?
2. Allocation systems. When a pool grants a license, the licensee typically pays a royalty to the pool for all of the rights contained in the pool. It is up to the pool administrator to allocate that royalty among the individual pool members. The method by which royalties are allocated among pool members is often a closely guarded secret. In some cases, royalties may be simply split evenly among pool members, as they were in Standard Oil (Indiana) (see Section 26.3, footnote 8) (a per capita system). In other cases, royalties may be allocated to members based on the number of IP rights that each has contributed (e.g., if a member contributed 5 of 100 patents to the pool, then it would be entitled to 5 percent of the royalties received by the pool) (patent counting).Footnote 5 Hybrids of per capita and per patent allocation systems also exist, as illustrated by the RFID patent pool, in which “half of the royalties are allocated to participants based on the number of patents contributed by each participant, and the other half are allocated substantially equally among participants.”Footnote 6 Finally, royalties may be allocated to a member based on the value of the IP that it has contributed (value-based allocation). This system is sometimes used to allocate larger shares of a pool’s revenue to early or “founder” members of the pool.Footnote 7 What advantages and disadvantages do you see with respect to each of these allocation methodologies?
3. When pools compete. Most IP pooling arrangements are voluntary, meaning that rights holders may elect to participate or not. In some cases, multiple pools cover the same product, so that a would-be manufacturer must obtain a license from each pool in order to manufacture the product. An example can be found in DVD technology:
In late 1995, it was reported that four “core” DVD developers of a ten-member DVD consortium would enter into a patent pooling agreement to administer the licensing of DVD patents. The core members, Philips, Sony, Matsushita and Toshiba, reportedly extended an open invitation to secondary patent holders claiming rights to DVD-related patents.
In August, 1996, after a period of failed negotiations among the core consortium members, Sony and Philips announced that they would form their own DVD pool, with Philips to be the licensor. Philips stated that “[t]here were so many differences of opinion that we could not wait for these to be settled.” Pioneer Electronics subsequently joined this three-firm pool. Six months later, Hitachi, Matsushita, Mitsubishi, Time Warner, Toshiba and JVC formed their own patent pool. Industry analysts warned that without a single, unitary pool, the price of DVD technology would increase since a piecemeal licensing system would push the cost of the technology higher.Footnote 8
Notwithstanding the split among the principal DVD patent holders, the two DVD patent pools (which became known as the DVD3C and DVD6C pools) operated side by side for years and reduced the number of licenses required by manufacturers of DVD players and discs from ten to two. The DVD format became one of the most broadly adopted standards in the world. Yet time has overtaken even the DVD. The DVD6C pool announced that it would stop offering new patent licenses on January 1, 2020.Footnote 9
4. Pooling holdouts. Given the voluntary nature of IP pools, it is also possible that some IP holders will elect not to join any pool. Research by Anne Layne-Farrar and Josh LernerFootnote 10 suggests that most patent pools today are incomplete. They found that nine major patent pools directed at significant technology standards (e.g., DVD, 3G, Bluetooth) had coverage rates of between 10 and 89 percent of the total patents believed to be necessary to practice the standards. Why might an IP holder “hold out” and decline to join a pool?Footnote 11 If pools enhance the overall efficiency of markets, how might IP holders be encouraged to join pools rather than licensing and asserting their rights independently?
5. Royalty stacking and Cournot complements. Commentators have also suggested that pooling complementary IP can reduce the overall cost of obtaining licenses to that IP. The theory of complementary production inputs originated with French mathematician Antoine Augustin Cournot in 1838. Carl Shapiro explains Cournot’s insight and its application to modern technology markets as follows:
Cournot considered the problem faced by a manufacturer of brass who had to purchase two key inputs, copper and zinc, each controlled by a monopolist. As Cournot demonstrated, the resulting price of brass was higher than would arise if a single firm controlled trade in both copper and zinc, and sold these inputs to a competitive brass industry (or made the brass itself). Worse yet, the combined profits of the producers were lower as well in the presence of complementary monopolies. So, the sad result of the balkanized rights to copper and zinc was to harm both consumers and producers. The same applies today when multiple companies control blocking patents for a particular product, process, or business method.
How can the inefficiency associated with multiple blocking patents be eliminated? One natural and attractive solution is for the copper and zinc suppliers to join forces and offer their inputs for a single, package price to the brass industry. The two monopolist suppliers will find it in their joint interest to offer a package price that is less than these two components sold for when priced separately. The blocking patent version of this principle is that the rights holders will find it attractive to create a package license or patent pool.
[I]f the two patent holders see benefits from enabling many others to make products that utilize their intellectual property rights, a patent pool, under which all the blocking patents are licensed in a coordinated fashion as a package, can be an ideal outcome. [This] simple theory … suggests that coordinating such licensing can lead to lower royalty rates than would independent pricing (licensing) of the two companies’ patents.Footnote 12
Do you see why combining patents (or other IP rights) in a pool might lower the overall cost of licensing these rights? How do you think this concept affects the likelihood that certain patent holders will hold out and refuse to join a pool (see Note 4)?
6. The mystery of the missing biotech patent pools. Despite cautionary predictions by scholars like Heller and Eisenberg, few patent pools – and none of commercial significance – have emerged in the biotechnology sector. Even in 1998, Heller and Eisenberg recognized that a number of structural and institutional factors might work against the formation of pools in the biotech sector, including transaction costs associated with accumulating sufficient rights to practice biotechnology inventions, the divergent interests of biotech patent holders and cognitive biases causing researchers to overestimate the value of their own discoveries. Other factors may also be at work, including “the need for at least some market exclusivity in an environment with extremely high costs of product development, clinical trials and regulatory approval; patent holders’ desire to retain control over their assets; and concerns over compromising commercial secrecy by collaborating with others.”Footnote 13 What do you make of the lack of patent pools in the biotechnology sector, when pooling activity in areas such as electronics and telecommunications has only increased?
7. New forms of fragmentation. Heller and Eisenberg identified the potential of patents to fragment markets for innovation in biotechnology, yet that anticommons and the accompanying stifling of innovation does not seem to have occurred for a variety of reasons. Nevertheless, concerns have been raised regarding other trends toward fragmentation of rights that could cause similar or even greater hurdles to innovation. Consider the following:
A spate of recent legal disputes in the U.S. ha[s] led to increasing calls for personal ownership of genetic and other health information. [D]espite the good intentions behind many of these proposals, granting individuals an enforceable property interest in information about themselves … could pose significant impediments to data-driven research, particularly in the coming era of mega-cohort studies involving a million and more individuals.
Thus, while Heller and Eisenberg worried that fragmented interests held by a few dozen or hundred patent owners could severely impede biomedical research, the possibility that millions of individual data subjects could demand clearance, oversight or payment in order to use their data … has far more dramatic ramifications for biomedical research.Footnote 14
Is the type of rights fragmentation identified in the above excerpt similar to the fragmentation that could arise due to dispersed patent ownership? Could this type of data ownership fragmentation effectively be addressed by pooling solutions?
26.2 Antitrust Analysis of Patent Pools
The earliest patent pools emerged prior to the enactment of the Sherman Antitrust Act of 1890. But almost as soon as the Sherman Act became law, antitrust enforcers turned an eye toward the pooling arrangements that large industrial concerns created using patents. In the following case, the Supreme Court considered such an arrangement led by John D. Rockefeller’s infamous Standard Oil Trust.
283 U.S. 163 (1931)
BRANDEIS, JUSTICE
This suit was brought by the United States in June, 1924, in the federal court for northern Illinois, to enjoin further violation of section 1 and section 2 of the Sherman Anti-Trust Act. The violation charged is an illegal combination to create a monopoly and to restrain interstate commerce by controlling that part of the supply of gasoline which is produced by the process of cracking. Control is alleged to be exerted by means of seventy-nine contracts concerning patents relating to the cracking art. The parties to the several contracts are named as defendants. Four of them own patents covering their respective cracking processes, and are called the primary defendants. Three of these, the Standard Oil Company of Indiana, the Texas Company, and the Standard Oil Company of New Jersey, are themselves large producers of cracked gasoline. The fourth, Gasoline Products Company, is merely a licensing concern. The remaining forty-six defendants manufacture cracked gasoline under licenses from one or more of the primary defendants. They are called secondary defendants.
The violation of the Sherman Act now complained of rests substantially on the making and effect of three contracts entered into by the primary defendants. The history of these agreements may be briefly stated. For about half a century before 1910, gasoline had been manufactured from crude oil exclusively by distillation and condensation at atmospheric pressure. When the demand for gasoline grew rapidly with the widespread use of the automobile, methods for increasing the yield of gasoline from the available crude oil were sought. It had long been known that from a given quantity of crude, additional oils of high volatility could be produced by “cracking”; that is, by applying heat and pressure to the residum after ordinary distillation. But a commercially profitable cracking method and apparatus for manufacturing additional gasoline had not yet been developed. The first such process was perfected by the Indiana Company in 1913; and for more than seven years this was the only one practiced in America. During that period the Indiana Company not only manufactured cracked gasoline on a large scale, but also had licensed fifteen independent concerns to use its process and had collected, prior to January 1, 1921, royalties aggregating $15,057,432.46.
Meanwhile, since the phenomenon of cracking was not controlled by any fundamental patent, other concerns had been working independently to develop commercial processes of their own. Most prominent among these were the three other primary defendants, the Texas Company, the New Jersey Company, and the Gasoline Products Company. Each of these secured numerous patents covering its particular cracking process. Beginning in 1920, conflict developed among the four companies concerning the validity, scope, and ownership of issued patents. One infringement suit was begun; cross-notices of infringement, antecedent to other suits, were given; and interferences were declared on pending applications in the Patent Office. The primary defendants assert that it was these difficulties which led to their executing the three principal agreements which the United States attacks; and that their sole object was to avoid litigation and losses incident to conflicting patents.
The three agreements differ from one another only slightly in scope and terms. Each primary defendant was released thereby from liability for any past infringement of patents of the others. Each acquired the right to use these patents thereafter in its own process. Each was empowered to extend to independent concerns, licensed under its process, releases from past, and immunity from future claims of infringement of patents controlled by the other primary defendants. And each was to share in some fixed proportion the fees received under these multiple licenses. The royalties to be charged were definitely fixed in the first contract; and minimum sums per barrel, to be divided between the Texas and Indiana companies, were specified in the second and third.
[P]ooling arrangements may obviously result in restricting competition. The limited monopolies granted to patent owners do not exempt them from the prohibitions of the Sherman Act and supplementary legislation. Hence the necessary effect of patent interchange agreements, and the operations under them, must be carefully examined in order to determine whether violations of the Act result.
The Government contends that the three agreements constitute a pooling by the primary defendants of the royalties from their several patents; that thereby competition between them in the commercial exercise of their respective rights to issue licenses is eliminated; that this tends to maintain or increase the royalty charged secondary defendants and hence to increase the manufacturing cost of cracked gasoline; that thus the primary defendants exclude from interstate commerce gasoline which would, under lower competitive royalty rates, be produced; and that interstate commerce is thereby unlawfully restrained. There is no provision in any of the agreements which restricts the freedom of the primary defendants individually to issue licenses under their own patents alone or under the patents of all the others; and no contract between any of them, and no license agreement with a secondary defendant executed pursuant thereto, now imposes any restriction upon the quantity of gasoline to be produced, or upon the price, terms, or conditions of sale, or upon the territory in which sales may be made. The only restraint thus charged is that necessarily arising out of the making and effect of the provisions for cross-licensing and for division of royalties.
The Government concedes that it is not illegal for the primary defendants to cross-license each other and the respective licensees; and that adequate consideration can legally be demanded for such grants. But it contends that the insertion of certain additional provisions in these agreements renders them illegal. It urges, first, that the mere inclusion of the provisions for the division of royalties, constitutes an unlawful combination under the Sherman Act because it evidences an intent to obtain a monopoly. This contention is unsound. Such provisions for the division of royalties are not in themselves conclusive evidence of illegality. Where there are legitimately conflicting claims or threatened interferences, a settlement by agreement, rather than litigation, is not precluded by the Act. An interchange of patent rights and a division of royalties according to the value attributed by the parties to their respective patent claims is frequently necessary if technical advancement is not to be blocked by threatened litigation. If the available advantages are upon on reasonable terms to all manufacturers desiring to participate, such interchange may promote rather than restrain competition.Footnote 15
The Government next contends that the agreements to maintain royalties violate the Sherman [Act] because the fees charged are onerous. The argument is that the competitive advantage which the three primary defendants enjoy of manufacturing cracked gasoline free of royalty, while licensees must pay to them a heavy tribute in fees, enables these primary defendants to exclude from interstate commerce cracked gasoline which would, under lower competitive royalty rates, be produced by possible rivals. This argument ignores the privileges incident to ownership of patents. Unless the industry is dominated, or interstate commerce directly restrained, the Sherman Act does not require cross-licensing patentees to license at reasonable rates others engaged in interstate commerce. The allegation that the royalties charged are onerous is, standing alone, without legal significance; and, as will be shown, neither the alleged domination, nor restraint of commerce, has been proved.
The main contention of the Government is that even if the exchange of patent rights and division of royalties are not necessarily improper and the royalties are not oppressive, the three contracts are still obnoxious to the Sherman Act because specific clauses enable the primary defendants to maintain existing royalties and thereby to restrain interstate commerce. The provisions which constitute the basis for this charge are these. The first contract specifies that the Texas Company shall get from the Indiana Company one-fourth of all royalties thereafter collected under the latter’s existing license agreements; and that all royalties received under licenses thereafter issued by either company shall be equally divided. Licenses granting rights under the patents of both are to be issued at a fixed royalty – approximately that charged by the Indiana Company when its process was alone in the field. By the second contract, the Texas Company is entitled to receive one-half of the royalties thereafter collected by the Gasoline Products Company from its existing licensees, and a minimum sum per barrel for all oil cracked by its future licensees. The third contract gives to the Indiana Company one-half of all royalties thereafter paid by existing licensees of the New Jersey Company, and a similar minimum sum for each barrel treated by its future licensees, subject in the latter case to reduction if the royalties charged by the Indiana and Texas companies for their processes should be reduced.Footnote 16 The alleged effect of these provisions is to enable the primary defendants, because of their monopoly of patented cracking processes, to maintain royalty rates at the level established originally for the Indiana process.
The rate of royalties may, of course be a decisive factor in the cost of production. If combining patent owners effectively dominate an industry, the power to fix and maintain royalties is tantamount to the power to fix prices. Where domination exists, a pooling of competing process patents, or an exchange of licenses for the purpose of curtailing the manufacture and supply of an unpatented product, is beyond the privileges conferred by the patents and constitutes a violation of the Sherman Act. The lawful individual monopolies granted by the patent statutes cannot be unitedly exercised to restrain competition. But an agreement for cross-licensing and division of royalties violates the Act only when used to effect a monopoly, or to fix prices, or to impose otherwise an unreasonable restraint upon interstate commerce. In the case at bar, the primary defendants own competing patented processes for manufacturing an unpatented product which is sold in interstate commerce; and agreements concerning such processes are likely to engender the evils to which the Sherman Act was directed. We must, therefore, examine the evidence to ascertain the operation and effect of the challenged contracts.
“an agreement for cross-licensing and division of royalties violates the [Sherman] Act only when used to effect a monopoly, or to fix prices, or to impose otherwise an unreasonable restraint upon interstate commerce”
No monopoly, or restriction of competition, in the business of licensing patented cracking processes resulted from the execution of these agreements. Up to 1920 all cracking plants in the United States were either owned by the Indiana Company alone, or were operated under licenses from it. In 1924 and 1925, after the cross-licensing arrangements were in effect, the four primary defendants owned or licensed, in the aggregate, only 55 percent of the total cracking capacity, and the remainder was distributed among twenty-one independently owned cracking processes. This development and commercial expansion of competing processes is clear evidence that the contracts did not concentrate in the hands of the four primary defendants the licensing of patented processes for the production of cracked gasoline. Moreover, the record does not show that after the execution of the agreements there was a decrease of competition among them in licensing other refiners to use their respective processes.
No monopoly, or restriction of competition, in the production of either ordinary or cracked gasoline has been proved. The output of cracked gasoline in the years in question was about 26 percent of the total gasoline production. Ordinary or straight run gasoline is indistinguishable from cracked gasoline and the two are either mixed or sold interchangeably. Under these circumstances the primary defendants could not effectively control the supply or fix the price of cracked gasoline by virtue of their alleged monopoly of the cracking processes, unless they could control, through some means, the remainder of the total gasoline production from all sources. Proof of such control is lacking. Evidence of the total gasoline production by all methods, of each of the primary defendants and their licensees is either missing or unsatisfactory in character. The record does not accurately show even the total amount of cracked gasoline produced, or the production of each of the licensees, or competing refiners.
No monopoly, or restriction of competition, in the sale of gasoline has been proved. On the basis of testimony relating to the marketing of both cracked and ordinary gasoline, the master found that the defendants were in active competition among themselves and with other refiners; that both kinds of gasoline were refined and sold in large quantities by other companies; and that the primary defendants and their licensees neither individually or collectively controlled the market price or supply of any gasoline moving in interstate commerce. There is ample evidence to support these findings.
Thus it appears that no monopoly of any kind, or restraint of interstate commerce, has been effected either by means of the contracts or in some other way. In the absence of proof that the primary defendants had such control of the entire industry as would make effective the alleged domination of a part, it is difficult to see how they could by agreeing upon royalty rates control either the price or the supply of gasoline, or otherwise restrain competition. By virtue of their patents they had individually the right to determine who should use their respective processes or inventions and what the royalties for such use should be. To warrant an injunction which would invalidate the contracts here in question, and require either new arrangements or settlement of the conflicting claims by litigation, there must be a definite factual showing of illegality.
Notes and Questions
1. Elimination of blocking positions. One of the major procompetitive benefits that the Supreme Court finds in the oil cracking pool is the elimination of blocking positions imposed by competitors’ patents. That is, the four members of the cracking pool each held patents that could block the others from practicing the technology to its fullest potential, thus depriving the market of the most beneficial gasoline products. As the Court notes, “An interchange of patent rights and a division of royalties according to the value attributed by the parties to their respective patent claims is frequently necessary if technical advancement is not to be blocked by threatened litigation.” Then, in footnote 8, the Court notes several other instances in which patent pools have facilitated the progress of technical advancement in industries such as automobiles, aviation and radio. How does a patent pool enable competitors to avoid each other’s “blocking” patents?Footnote 17
2. Onerous royalties and exclusion. The government’s principal objection to the cracking pool revolved around the parties’ royalty arrangements, which it claimed to be onerous. Who was allegedly harmed by these royalty arrangements, and what effect did the government claim that they had on the market? How did the court respond to these allegations? Under what circumstances does the Court suggest that members of a patent pool might be required to limit the royalties that they charge?
3. Price fixing by pooling. Even if the pooling parties had no obligation to limit the royalties that they charged to others, the government still maintained that the parties’ royalty arrangement was anticompetitive because it allowed them to maintain royalty rates at their original levels without the reductions that might result from competition. How did the court respond to this argument?
4. The courts crack down on pools. Despite the favorable view of patent pools offered by the Supreme Court in Standard Oil (Indiana), judicial attitudes toward patent pools soured soon thereafter, following a general trend toward stricter application of the antitrust laws from the 1940s through 1970s.Footnote 18 In cases from Hartford-Empire Co. v. United States, 323 U.S. 386 (1945) through United States v. Mfrs. Aircraft Ass’n, 1975 WL 405109 (S.D.N.Y. Nov. 12, 1975), arrangements among competitors involving patent pools were found to reduce competition and were ordered dissolved.Footnote 19 Nevertheless, patent pools increased in popularity again beginning in the 1980s, as antitrust law again adopted a more lenient approach to IP arrangements.
US Department of Justice and Federal Trade Commission, 2017
Cross-Licensing and Pooling ArrangementsFootnote 20
[Pooling] arrangements may provide procompetitive benefits by integrating complementary technologies, reducing transaction costs, clearing blocking positions, and avoiding costly infringement litigation. By promoting the dissemination of technology … pooling arrangements are often procompetitive.
[P]ooling arrangements can have anticompetitive effects in certain circumstances. For example, collective price or output restraints in pooling arrangements, such as the joint marketing of pooled intellectual property rights with collective price setting or coordinated output restrictions, may be deemed unlawful if they do not contribute to an efficiency-enhancing integration of economic activity among the participants. When … pooling arrangements are mechanisms to accomplish naked price-fixing or market division, they are subject to challenge under the per se rule.
Pooling arrangements generally need not be open to all who would like to join. However, exclusion from … pooling arrangements among parties that collectively possess market power may, under some circumstances, harm competition. In general, exclusion from a pooling … arrangement among competing technologies is unlikely to have anticompetitive effects unless (1) excluded firms cannot effectively compete in the relevant market for the good incorporating the licensed technologies and (2) the pool participants collectively possess market power in the relevant market. If these circumstances exist, the Agencies will evaluate whether the arrangement’s limitations on participation are reasonably related to the efficient development and exploitation of the pooled technologies and will assess the net effect of those limitations in the relevant market.
Another possible anticompetitive effect of pooling arrangements may occur if the arrangement deters or discourages participants from engaging in research and development, thus retarding innovation. For example, a pooling arrangement that requires members to grant licenses to each other for current and future technology at minimal cost may reduce the incentives of its members to engage in research and development because members of the pool have to share their successful research and development and each of the members can free ride on the accomplishments of other pool members. However, such an arrangement can have procompetitive benefits, for example, by exploiting economies of scale and integrating complementary capabilities of the pool members, (including the clearing of blocking positions), and is likely to cause competitive problems only when the arrangement includes a large fraction of the potential research and development in a research and development market.
Notes and Questions
1. Members-only pools. The DOJ and FTC are careful to say that “[p]ooling arrangements generally need not be open to all who would like to join.” That is, closed or members-only pools are permitted. But this concept has significant caveats. When might it be anticompetitive for a pool to exclude those who would like to join?
2. Innovation effects. The agencies are particularly concerned with pools that discourage future R&D and innovation. How might pooling IP rights discourage the members from pursuing R&D activities? How might pooling IP increase R&D activity among the members? How should an agency draw the line between pooling activity that promotes and harms innovation?
26.3 Patent Pools for Standards
As discussed in Chapter 20, many industry standards are developed through the collaboration of different parties, whether through a commercial agreement, a joint venture or a standards-development organization (SDO). Parties that contribute technology to a standardization effort sometimes obtain patents covering those technical contributions. In addition to licensing requirements imposed by SDOs and private licensing arrangements among standards developers, some standards have become the subject of patent pools.
US Department of Justice Antitrust Division, June 26, 1997
Gerrard R. Beeney, Esq.
Sullivan & Cromwell
125 Broad Street
New York, NY 10004–2498
Dear Mr. Beeney:
This is in response to your request on behalf of the Trustees of Columbia University, Fujitsu Limited, General Instrument Corp., Lucent Technologies Inc., Matsushita Electric Industrial Co., Ltd., Mitsubishi Electric Corp., Philips Electronics N.V., Scientific-Atlanta, Inc., and Sony Corp. (collectively the “Licensors”), Cable Television Laboratories, Inc. (“CableLabs”), MPEG LA, L.L.C. (“MPEG LA”), and their affiliates for the issuance of a business review letter pursuant to the Department of Justice’s Business Review Procedure, 28 C.F.R. § 50.6. You have requested a statement of the Department of Justice’s antitrust enforcement intentions with respect to a proposed arrangement pursuant to which MPEG LA will offer a package license under the Licensors’ patents that are essential to compliance with the MPEG-2 compression technology standard, and distribute royalty income among the Licensors.
The Proposed Arrangement
The MPEG-2 Standard
The MPEG-2 standard has been approved as an international standard by the [Moving] Picture Experts Group of the International Organization for Standards (ISO) and the International Electrotechnical Commission (IEC) and by the International Telecommunication Union Telecommunication Standardization Sector (ITU-T).
The video and systems parts of the MPEG-2 standard will be applied in many different products and services in which video information is stored and/or transmitted, including cable, satellite and broadcast television, digital video disks, and telecommunications. However, compliance with the standards will infringe on numerous patents owned by many different entities. Consequently, a number of firms that participated in the development of the standard formed the MPEG-2 Intellectual Property Working Group (“IP Working Group”) to address intellectual property issues raised by the proposed standard. Among other things, the IP Working Group sponsored a search for the patents that covered the technology essential to compliance with the proposed standard and explored the creation of a mechanism to convey those essential intellectual property rights to MPEG-2 users. That exploration led ultimately to an agreement among the Licensors, CableLabs and Baryn S. Futa establishing MPEG LA as a Delaware Limited Liability Company.
Each of the Licensors owns at least one patent that the IP Working Group’s patent search identified as essential to compliance with the video and/or systems parts of the MPEG-2 standard (hereinafter “MPEG-2 Essential Patent” or “Essential Patent”). Among them, they account for a total of 27 Essential Patents, which are most, but not all, of the Essential Patents. Pursuant to a series of four proposed agreements, the Licensors will combine their Essential Patents into a single portfolio (the “Portfolio”) in the hands of a common licensing administrator that would grant licenses under the Portfolio on a nondiscriminatory basis, collect royalties, and distribute them among the Licensors pursuant to a pro-rata allocation based on each Licensor’s proportionate share of the total number of Portfolio patents in the countries in which a particular royalty-bearing product is made and sold.
This arrangement is embodied in a network of four proposed agreements: (1) an Agreement Among Licensors, in which the Licensors commit to license their MPEG-2 Essential Patents jointly through a common License Administrator and agree on basic items including the Portfolio license’s authorized fields of use, the amount and allocation of royalties, and procedures for adding patents to, and deleting them from, the Portfolio; (2) a Licensing Administrator Agreement between the Licensors and MPEG LA, pursuant to which MPEG LA assumes the tasks of licensing the Portfolio to MPEG-2 users and collecting and distributing royalty income; (3) a license from each Licensor to MPEG LA for the purpose of granting the Portfolio License; and (4) the Portfolio license itself.
MPEG LA
Pursuant to the Licensing Administrator Agreement, MPEG LA will: (1) grant a worldwide, nonexclusive sublicense under the Portfolio to make, use and sell MPEG-2 products “to each and every potential Licensee who requests an MPEG-2 Patent Portfolio License and shall not discriminate among potential licensees”; (2) solicit Portfolio licensees; (3) enforce and terminate Portfolio license agreements; and (4) collect and distribute royalties. For this purpose, each MPEG-2 Licensor will grant MPEG LA a nonexclusive license under its Essential Patents, while retaining the right to license them independently for any purpose, including for making MPEG-2-compliant products.
The Licensing Administrator Agreement places the day-to-day conduct of MPEG LA’s business, including its licensing activities, under the sole control of Futa and his staff. The other owners retain some control, however, over “major decisions,” including approval of budgets and annual financial statements, extraordinary expenditures, entry into new businesses, mergers and acquisitions, and the sale or dissolution of the corporation.
The MPEG-2 Portfolio
As noted above, the Portfolio initially will consist of 27 patents, which constitute most, but not all, Essential Patents. These 27 patents were identified in a search carried out by an independent patent expert under the sponsorship of the IP Working Group. Once the MPEG-2 standard was largely in place, the IP Working Group issued a public call for the submission of patents that might be infringed by compliance with the MPEG-2 standard. CableLabs, whose COO Futa was an active participant in the IP Working Group, retained an independent patent expert familiar with the standard and the relevant technology to review the submissions. In all, the expert and his assistant reviewed approximately 8,000 United States patent abstracts and studied about 800 patents belonging to over 100 different patentees or assignees. No submission was refused, and no entity or person that was identified as having an essential patent was in any way excluded from the effort in forming the proposed joint licensing program.
The proposed agreement among the Licensors creates a continuing role for an independent expert as an arbiter of essentiality. It requires the retention of an independent expert to review patents submitted to any of the Licensors for inclusion in the Portfolio and to review any Portfolio patent which an MPEG-2 Licensor has concluded is not essential or as to which anyone has claimed a good-faith belief of non-essentiality. In both cases, the Licensors are bound by the expert’s opinion.
The Portfolio’s composition may also change for other reasons. A patent will be deleted promptly from the Portfolio upon a final adjudication of invalidity or unenforceability by a tribunal of competent jurisdiction in the country of its issuance. The expiration of a Licensor’s last-to-expire Portfolio patent, or a final adjudication of invalidity or unenforceability of its last remaining Portfolio patent, terminates the Licensor’s participation in the Portfolio and the Agreement Among Licensors. Each MPEG-2 Licensor may terminate its participation in the Portfolio license on 30 days’ notice; however, all existing Portfolio licenses will remain intact.
The Portfolio License
The planned license from MPEG LA to users of the MPEG-2 standards is a worldwide, nonexclusive, nonsublicensable license under the Portfolio patents for the manufacture, sale, and in most cases, use of: (1) products and software designed to encode and/or decode video information in accordance with the MPEG-2 standard; (2) products and software designed to generate MPEG-2 program and transport bitstreams; and (3) so-called “intermediate products,” such as integrated circuit chips, used in the aforementioned products and software.
The Portfolio license expires January 1, 2000, but is renewable at the licensee’s option for a period of not less than five years, subject to “reasonable amendment of its terms and conditions.” That “reasonable amendment” may not, however, increase royalties by more than 25%. Each Portfolio licensee may terminate its license on 30 days’ written notice. The per-unit royalties are those agreed upon in the Agreement Among Licensors, but they are subject to reduction pursuant to a “most-favored-nation” clause. The royalty obligations are predicated on actual use of one or more of the licensed patents in the unit for which the royalty is assessed. The Portfolio license imposes no obligation on the licensee to use only the licensed patents and explicitly leaves the licensee free independently to develop “competitive video products or video services which do not comply with the MPEG-2 Standard.”
The Portfolio license will list the Portfolio patents in an attachment. It also explicitly addresses the licensee’s ability, and possible need, to obtain Essential Patent rights elsewhere. The Portfolio license states that each Portfolio patent is also available for licensing independently from the MPEG-2 Licensor that had licensed it to MPEG LA and that the license may not convey rights to all Essential Patents.
The license’s grantback provision requires the licensee to grant any of the Licensors and other Portfolio licensees a nonexclusive worldwide license or sublicense, on fair and reasonable terms and conditions, on any Essential Patent that it has the right to license or sublicense. The Licensors’ per-patent share of royalties is the basis for determining a fair and reasonable royalty for the grantback. Alternatively, a licensee that controls an Essential Patent may choose to become an MPEG-2 licensor and add its patent to the Portfolio. Failure to honor the grantback requirement constitutes a material breach of the license, giving MPEG LA the right to terminate the license unless the licensee has cured the breach within 60 days after MPEG LA sends it notice of the breach.
A separate provision allows for partial termination of a licensee’s Portfolio license as to a particular MPEG-2 Licensor’s patents. Pursuant to Section 6.3, an MPEG-2 Licensor may direct MPEG LA to withdraw its patents from the Portfolio license if the licensee has (a) brought a lawsuit or other proceeding against the MPEG-2 Licensor for infringement of an Essential Patent or an MPEG-2 Related Patent (“Related Patent”) and (b) refused to grant the MPEG-2 Licensor a license under the Essential Patent or MPEG-2 Related Patent on fair and reasonable terms and conditions. As with the grantback, the per-patent share of Portfolio license royalties is the basis for determining a fair and reasonable royalty for the licensee’s patent. Upon the withdrawal of the MPEG-2 Licensor’s patents from the licensee’s Portfolio license, the licensee may seek a license on the withdrawn patents directly from the MPEG-2 Licensor, which remains subject to its undertaking to the ISO and/or the ITU-T to license on fair and reasonable terms and conditions.
Analysis
The Patent Pool in General
An aggregation of patent rights for the purpose of joint package licensing, commonly called a patent pool, may provide competitive benefits by integrating complementary technologies, reducing transaction costs, clearing blocking positions, and avoiding costly infringement litigation. By promoting the dissemination of technology, patent pools can be procompetitive. Nevertheless, some patent pools can restrict competition, whether among intellectual property rights within the pool or downstream products incorporating the pooled patents or in innovation among parties to the pool.
A starting point for an antitrust analysis of any patent pool is an inquiry into the validity of the patents and their relationship to each other. A licensing scheme premised on invalid or expired intellectual property rights will not withstand antitrust scrutiny. And a patent pool that aggregates competitive technologies and sets a single price for them would raise serious competitive concerns. On the other hand, a combination of complementary intellectual property rights, especially ones that block the application for which they are jointly licensed, can be an efficient and procompetitive method of disseminating those rights to would-be users.
Based on your representations to us about the complementary nature of the patents to be included in the Portfolio, it appears that the Portfolio is a procompetitive aggregation of intellectual property. The Portfolio combines patents that an independent expert has determined to be essential to compliance with the MPEG-2 standard; there is no technical alternative to any of the Portfolio patents within the standard. Moreover, each Portfolio patent is useful for MPEG-2 products only in conjunction with the others. The limitation of the Portfolio to technically essential patents, as opposed to merely advantageous ones, helps ensure that the Portfolio patents are not competitive with each other and that the Portfolio license does not, by bundling in non-essential patents, foreclose the competitive implementation options that the MPEG-2 standard has expressly left open.
The continuing role of an independent expert to assess essentiality is an especially effective guarantor that the Portfolio patents are complements, not substitutes. The relevant provisions of the Agreement Among Licensors appear well designed to ensure that the expert will be called in whenever a legitimate question is raised about whether or not a particular patent belongs in the Portfolio; in particular, they seem designed to reduce the likelihood that the Licensors might act concertedly to keep invalid or non-essential patents in the Portfolio or to exclude other essential patents from admission to the Portfolio.
Specific Terms of the Agreements
Despite the potential procompetitive effects of the Portfolio license, we would be concerned if any specific terms of any of the contemplated agreements seemed likely to restrain competition. Such possible concerns might include the likelihood that the Licensors could use the Portfolio license as a vehicle to disadvantage competitors in downstream product markets; to collude on prices outside the scope of the Portfolio license, such as downstream MPEG-2 products; or to impair technology or innovation competition, either within the MPEG-2 standard or from rival compression technologies. It appears, however, that the proposed arrangement will not raise any significant competitive concerns.
Effect on Rivals
There does not appear to be any potential for use of the Portfolio license to disadvantage particular licensees. The Agreement Among Licensors commits the Licensors to nondiscriminatory Portfolio licensing, and the Licensing Administrator agreement both vests sole licensing authority in MPEG LA and explicitly requires MPEG LA to offer the Portfolio license on the same terms and conditions to all would-be licensees. Thus, maverick competitors and upstart industries will have access to the Portfolio on the same terms as all other licensees. The Portfolio license’s “most-favored-nation” clause ensures further against any attempt to discriminate on royalty rates.
Although it offers the Portfolio patents only as a package, the Portfolio license does not appear to be an illegal tying agreement. The conditioning of a license for one intellectual property right on the license of a second such right could be a concern where its effect was to foreclose competition from technological alternatives to the second. In this instance, however, the essentiality of the patents – determined by the independent expert – means that there is no technological alternative to any of them and that the Portfolio license will not require licensees to accept or use any patent that is merely one way of implementing the MPEG-2 standard, to the detriment of competition. Moreover, although a licensee cannot obtain fewer than all the Portfolio patents from MPEG LA, the Portfolio license informs potential licensees that licenses on all the Portfolio patents are available individually from their owners or assignees. While the independent expert mechanism should ensure that the Portfolio will never contain any unnecessary patents, the independent availability of each Portfolio patent is a valuable failsafe. The list of Portfolio patents attached to the Portfolio license will provide licensees with information they need to assess the merits of the Portfolio license.
Facilitation of Collusion
From what you have told us, there does not appear to be anything in the proposed agreements that is likely to facilitate collusion among Licensors or licensees in any market. Although MPEG LA is authorized to audit licensees, confidentiality provisions prohibit it from transmitting competitively sensitive information among the Licensors or other licensees. Further, since the contemplated royalty rates are likely to constitute a tiny fraction of MPEG-2 products’ prices, at least in the near term, it appears highly unlikely that the royalty rate could be used during that period as a device to coordinate the prices of downstream products.
Effect on Innovation
It further appears that nothing in the arrangement imposes any anticompetitive restraint, either explicitly or implicitly, on the development of rival products and technologies. Nothing in the Agreement Among Licensors discourages, either through outright prohibition or economic incentives, any Licensor from developing or supporting a rival standard. As noted above, the Portfolio license explicitly leaves licensees free independently to make products that do not comply with the MPEG-2 standard and premises royalty obligations on actual use of at least one Portfolio patent. Since the Portfolio includes only Essential Patents, the licensee’s manufacture, use or sale of MPEG-2 products will necessarily infringe the Portfolio patents. By weeding out non-essential patents from the Portfolio, the independent-expert mechanism helps ensure that the licensees will not have to pay royalties for making MPEG-2 products that do not employ the licensed patents.
The license’s initial duration, to January 1, 2000, does not present any competitive concern. While the open-ended renewal term of “no less than five years” holds open the possibility of a perpetual license, its competitive impact will depend substantially on whether any of the “reasonable amendments” made at that time increase the license’s exclusionary impact. While the term “reasonable” is the Portfolio license’s only limitation on the Licensors’ ability to impose onerous non-royalty terms on licensees at renewal time, the 25% cap on royalty increases and the “most-favored-nation” clause appear to constrain the Licensors’ ability to use royalties to exploit any locked-in installed base among its licensees.
Nor does the Portfolio license’s grantback clause appear anticompetitive. Its scope, like that of the license itself, is limited to Essential Patents. It does not extend to mere implementations of the standard or even to improvements on the essential patents. Rather, the grantback simply obliges licensees that control an Essential Patent to make it available to all, on a nonexclusive basis, at a fair and reasonable royalty, just like the Portfolio patents. This will mean that any firm that wishes to take advantage of the cost savings afforded by the Portfolio license cannot hold its own essential patents back from other would-be manufacturers of MPEG-2 products. While easing, though not altogether clearing up, the holdout problem, the grantback should not create any disincentive among licensees to innovate. Since the grantback extends only to MPEG-2 Essential Patents, it is unlikely that there is any significant innovation left to be done that the grantback could discourage. The grantback provision is likely simply to bring other Essential Patents into the Portfolio, thereby limiting holdouts’ ability to exact a supracompetitive toll from Portfolio licensees and further lowering licensees’ costs in assembling the patent rights essential to their compliance with the MPEG-2 standard.
In different circumstances, the right of partial termination set forth in Section 6.3 of the Portfolio license could raise difficult competition issues. That section provides that, on instruction from any Licensor, MPEG LA … shall withdraw from a particular licensee’s portfolio license that Licensor’s patent or patents if the licensee has sued the Licensor for infringement of an Essential Patent or a Related Patent and refused to grant a license on the allegedly infringed patent on “fair and reasonable terms.”
The partial termination right may enable Licensors to obtain licenses on Related Patents at royalty levels below what they would have been in a competitive market. Consequently, the partial termination right may dampen licensees’ incentives to invest in research and development of MPEG-2 implementations, undercutting somewhat the benefits of the openness of the MPEG-2 standard and the prospects for improvements on the Essential Patents.
This impact on the incentive to innovate within the MPEG-2 standard would be of particular concern were the partial termination right designed to benefit all portfolio licensees. In that event, the partial termination right would function much like a compulsory grantback into the Portfolio. Licensees that owned Related Patents would not be able to choose among and negotiate freely with potential users of their inventions. The licensees’ potential return from their R&D investments could be curtailed drastically, and the corresponding impact on their incentive to innovate could be significant.
Here, however, the partial termination right, unlike the grantback, protects only the Licensors. Other portfolio licensees have no right under the pool license to practice fellow licensees’ inventions. And the Licensors are likely to be restrained in exercising their partial termination rights because the development of Related Patents will enhance MPEG-2 and, thus, the value of the Portfolio. The long-term interest of the Licensors is generally to encourage innovation in Related Patents, not to stifle it.
Moreover, the partial termination right may have procompetitive effects to the extent that it functions as a nonexclusive grantback requirement on licensees’ Related Patents. It could allow Licensors and licensees to share the risk and rewards of supporting and improving the MPEG-2 standard by enabling Licensors to capture some of the value they have added to licensees’ Related Patents by creating and licensing the Portfolio. In effect, the partial termination right may enable Licensors to realize greater returns on the Portfolio license from the licensees that enjoy greater benefits from the license, while maintaining the Portfolio royalty at a level low enough to attract licensees that may value it less. This in turn could lead to more efficient exploitation of the Portfolio technology.
Therefore, in light of both its potentially significant procompetitive effects and the limited potential harm it poses to Portfolio licensees’ incentives to innovate, the partial-termination clause appears on balance unlikely to be anticompetitive.
Conclusion
Like many joint licensing arrangements, the agreements you have described for the licensing of MPEG-2 Essential Patents are likely to provide significant cost savings to Licensors and licensees alike, substantially reducing the time and expense that would otherwise be required to disseminate the rights to each MPEG-2 Essential Patent to each would-be licensee. Moreover, the proposed agreements that will govern the licensing arrangement have features designed to enhance the usual procompetitive effects and mitigate potential anticompetitive dangers. The limitation of the Portfolio to technically essential patents and the use of an independent expert to be the arbiter of that limitation reduces the risk that the patent pool will be used to eliminate rivalry between potentially competing technologies. Potential licensees will be aided by the provision of a clear list of the Portfolio patents, the availability of the Portfolio patents independent of the Portfolio, and the warning that the Portfolio may not contain all Essential Patents. The conditioning of licensee royalty liability on actual use of the Portfolio patents, the clearly stated freedom of licensees to develop and use alternative technologies, and the imposition of obligations on licensees’ own patent rights that do not vitiate licensees’ incentives to innovate, all serve to protect competition in the development and use of both improvements on, and alternatives to, MPEG-2 technology.
For these reasons, the Department is not presently inclined to initiate antitrust enforcement action against the conduct you have described. This letter, however, expresses the Department’s current enforcement intention. In accordance with our normal practices, the Department reserves the right to bring an enforcement action in the future if the actual operation of the proposed conduct proves to be anticompetitive in purpose or effect.
Sincerely,
Joel I. Klein, Assistant Attorney General
The DOJ’s MPEG-2 letter formalized a list of features that has come to be viewed as an industry best practice for the design of patent pools. While, strictly speaking, these features are not legally required, they appear to have influenced the DOJ’s favorable evaluation of the MPEG-2 pool and several other pools that it has evaluated since. These features include the following:
1. Transparency – the pool’s royalty rates and terms are publicly disclosed.
2. Nondiscrimination – the pool offers the same rates and terms to all similarly situated licensees, and will grant a license to any applicant that accepts those terms.
3. Independence – pool members are permitted to license their patents independently of the pool.
4. Voluntariness – pool members and licensees are not required to use the standard(s) covered by the pool in their products.
5. Essentiality – the pool will assess each pooled patent for essentiality to the standard.
6. Complementarity – the pool will not cover technologies that compete with or can be viewed as substitutes for one another.
Notes and Questions
1. MPEG grew. When the DOJ issued its business review letter on the MPEG-2 pool, the pool contained twenty-seven patents. At its peak in the early 2010s, the MPEG-2 pool contained over 1,000 patents.Footnote 21 Do you think that the guidelines outlined by the DOJ in its business review letter apply equally to a pool of twenty-seven versus 1,000+ patents? Why or why not?
2. Fair and reasonable royalties. Recall the Supreme Court’s conclusion in Standard Oil (Indiana) that “Unless the industry is dominated, or interstate commerce directly restrained, the Sherman Act does not require cross-licensing patentees to license at reasonable rates others engaged in interstate commerce.” How does this holding square with the FRAND obligations that are often imposed by SDOs on participants in standards development? When a pool is formed around patents that are essential to a particular standard that is subject to a FRAND commitment, should that commitment bind the pool?
3. Nondiscrimination. The DOJ notes that the MPEG-2 pool will license its patents on a “nondiscriminatory” basis and “explicitly requires MPEG LA to offer the Portfolio license on the same terms and conditions to all would-be licensees.” Why is this requirement important from a competition standpoint? How does the pool’s “most-favored-nation” clause further prevent any attempt to discriminate on royalty rates? The most-favored and nondiscrimination provisions of the pool agreement ensure that all licensees are treated in a consistent manner, but what if everyone is treated equally unfairly?
Nondiscriminatory licensing does not mean, of course, that every licensee must pay exactly the same amount to a pool. Many patent royalties are based on a percentage of the licensee’s revenue, meaning that licensees who sell more licensed products pay more. Some pools charge different rates based on the type of product that the licensee produces. For example, in 2016, for a DVD video player, the DVD6C pool charged the greater of (1) 4 percent of the net selling price (up to a maximum of $8 per player) or (2) $4 per player; while for a DVD disc, the pool charged $0.05 per disc.Footnote 22 Do you see any competitive risks in a patent pool charging different rates based on the types of products to be manufactured? What about differences based on the size or sales volume of the licensee?
DVD players and DVD discs are fundamentally different products, even if they are intended to work together. Maybe this difference justifies differential pricing of pooled patents. But can differential pricing be justified when the same product (e.g., a wireless communications chip) is sold for use in different applications (e.g., an electric meter versus a smartphone versus an automobile versus a passenger airplane)? On one hand, a chip is a chip is a chip. But on the other hand, the value that such a chip brings to different applications may differ appreciably. Is it nondiscriminatory to charge users of a patented article different prices based on the value of the larger product in which they will incorporate the article?
4. Independent licensing. The DOJ notes that in the MPEG-2 pool, “each Portfolio patent is also available for licensing independently from the MPEG-2 Licensor that … licensed it to MPEG LA.” The DOJ has consistently emphasized the procompetitive benefits of allowing pool members to license their patents independently of the pool. It explained in 2013,
Having the option to license independently of a pool can mitigate the effects of potential market power. For example, independent licensing can encourage competition and create incentives for innovators to invent around some of the patents in a pool. Efficiencies from licensing outside of a pool are more likely when the transaction costs of negotiating with multiple licensors are not prohibitive.Footnote 23
As noted by Layne-Farrar and Lerner, “most modern pool agreements allow for independent licensing by pool members outside of the pool.”Footnote 24 Nevertheless, not all pools have followed this pattern. In 1998, the FTC issued a complaint against two suppliers of patented photorefractive keratectomy (PRK) (eye surgery) equipment. In 1992, the suppliers, VISX, Inc. and Summit Technology, Inc., formed a partnership called Pillar Point Partners (PPP), in which they pooled their PRK patents. The agreement provided that PPP would have the exclusive right to license the parties’ respective PRK patents to third parties, and that either party could veto the decision to grant such a license. Between 1992 and 1998, PPP granted no licenses to third parties. The FTC alleged that the pooling arrangement had the effect of eliminating competition between VISX and Summit in the market for PRK technology licensing. In settling the FTC’s claims, the parties agreed to dissolve PPP and not to interfere with one another’s licensing of their PRK technology.Footnote 25
5. Voluntary adoption. In its MPEG-2 letter, the DOJ notes that the pool “explicitly leaves licensees free independently to make products that do not comply with the MPEG-2 standard.” In other words, licensees are free to make products that comply with MPEG-2 standards or not, and are also free to adopt and use standards that compete with MPEG-2. Why is this freedom important?
6. Grantback. The MPEG-2 pool requires licensees to grant any of the pool licensors a nonexclusive worldwide license to any essential patent that it has the right to license on fair and reasonable terms. In their 2017 Antitrust Guidelines for the Licensing of IP, the DOJ and FTC analyze grantback clauses as follows:
The Agencies will evaluate a grantback provision under the rule of reason, considering its likely effects in light of the overall structure of the licensing arrangement and conditions in the relevant markets. An important factor in the Agencies’ analysis of a grantback will be whether the licensor has market power in a relevant technology or research and development market. If the Agencies determine that a particular grantback provision is likely to reduce significantly licensees’ incentives to invest in improving the licensed technology, the Agencies will consider the extent to which the grantback provision has offsetting procompetitive effects, such as (1) promoting dissemination of licensees’ improvements to the licensed technology, (2) increasing the licensors’ incentives to disseminate the licensed technology, or (3) otherwise increasing competition and output in a relevant technology or research and development market. In addition, the Agencies will consider the extent to which grantback provisions in the relevant markets generally increase licensors’ incentives to innovate in the first place.Footnote 26
How would these considerations affect the agencies’ evaluation of the MPEG-2 pool? Do you think that the pool had market power in 1997? What about in 2013? How important is it that the pool permits licensees to charge a reasonable royalty for their essential patents, rather than requiring grantback licenses to be free of charge? Why does the DOJ conclude that “the grantback should not create any disincentive among licensees to innovate”?
7. Defensive termination. Another feature of the MPEG-2 license agreement is a “partial termination” right, which enables a pool member to cause the pool to terminate a licensee’s license under any of the member’s patents if that licensee has sued the licensor for infringement of an essential patent and has refused to grant the pool member a license on fair and reasonable terms. In effect, the partial termination right is a backstop to the licensee’s grantback obligation. If it fails to grant a FRAND license to a pool member, that member may withdraw those patents that the pool has licensed to the intransigent licensee. For this reason, clauses of this nature are often referred to as “defensive” termination clauses. Why do you think that a defensive termination clause is needed in addition to the grantback clause discussed above? Would a defensive termination clause be sufficient without the grantback?
In assessing the MPEG-2 pool, the DOJ reasons that “[i]n different circumstances, the right of partial termination … could raise difficult competition issues.” In particular, the DOJ expresses concern that “[t]he partial termination right may enable Licensors to obtain licenses on Related Patents at royalty levels below what they would have been in a competitive market. Consequently, the partial termination right may dampen licensees’ incentives to invest in research and development of MPEG-2 implementations.” Why are these concerns alleviated under the licensing framework proposed by the MPEG-2 pool? Would the number of market participants in the pool matter to this analysis?
8. Essentiality. One of the key features of the MPEG-2 pool, and most patent pools today, is that “The Portfolio combines patents that an independent expert has determined to be essential to compliance with the MPEG-2 standard.” In effect, only “essential” patents may be included in the pool. Why is it important that non-essential patents be excluded from the pool? Why is an independent-expert evaluation desirable?
Of course, independent patent evaluation does not come cheap. Professors Robert Merges and Michael Mattioli determined that the organizer of the MPEG Audio pool (unrelated to the MPEG-2 pool) paid attorney fees of approximately $7,500 per patent evaluated for essentiality. With around 700 patents, this resulted in a price tag of approximately $5,250,000.Footnote 27 Is this cost worth it? Is there a less expensive way to determine essentiality of patents covering complex technology standards?
Compare the approach taken by SDOs as described in Section 20.1 (Notes 1 and 3). SDOs permit their participants to self-declare which patents are essential to their standards. There is no cost to the SDO, but there is also no verification whether those patents are essential or not. Independent studies have estimated that so-called over-declaration is rampant at SDOs, as patent holders have little incentive not to declare any particular patent as essential to a standard.Footnote 28 Which approach to patent essentiality do you think is better: that of patent pools, which spend large sums independently evaluating each patent, or of SDOs, which spend nothing, but get a less accurate view of whether or not patents are essential to their standards?
9. Complementarity. Closely related to the issue of essentiality is that of complementarity. From an antitrust perspective, patents included in a pool should be essential to practice one particular standard, not a variety of different standards that could act as substitutes for one another. In other words, patents within a pool should be complementary, but not substitutes. The theory behind this important requirement is the subject of Section 26.4.
10. Beyond standards. While many of the recent DOJ business review letters concerning patent pools have revolved around technical standards, pools continue to be formed and planned around other technologies with fragmented IP ownership. Returning to the world of biotechnology, one of these areas is CRISPR gene-editing technology. Foundational patents relating to CRISPR are held by the University of California and the Broad Institute (a joint venture of Harvard and MIT), as well as several foreign universities. In 2017, MPEG LA, the creator of the MPEG-2 patent pool, proposed a pool relating to CRISPR patents. So far, the Broad Institute has indicated its interest in joining:
[J]ust as MPEG LA’s pioneering pool license model helped assure the success of digital video in the consumer electronics industry with convenient one-stop access to relevant intellectual property, now CRISPR can benefit from MPEG LA’s patent pool approach with an impact far more profound.
MPEG LA’s CRISPR Cas-9 Joint Licensing Platform will give technology owners the opportunity to share in mass-market royalties from their CRISPR technology while enjoying, with other developers, broad access to other important CRISPR technologies. As a voluntary market-based business solution to the patent access problem tailored to balance, incentivize and resolve competing market and public interests, an independently managed patent pool is the best hope for unleashing CRISPR’s full potential for the benefit of humanity.Footnote 29
Some commentators have questioned the viability of a CRISPR patent pool as proposed by MPEG LA:
We believe that the lack of commercial patent pooling and FRAND licensing in the biopharma sector is due to the high cost of product development, clinical trials, and regulatory approval required to market new drugs and treatments. In many cases, private-sector firms that incur these costs will be profitable (and viable) only if they can leverage the market exclusivity afforded by patent rights for a limited period. Indeed, this is an animating concern behind much of the lengthy and costly development of cancer therapeutics today. Because patent pools do not lend themselves to exclusive licensing, even when commercially desirable in narrow fields, we question whether patent pooling for CRISPR would ultimately be successful.Footnote 30
Which view do you find to be more persuasive?
26.4 Complementarity and Essentiality in Patent Pools
As noted in the DOJ’s MPEG-2 letter, the limitation of the MPEG-2 pool to patents essential to the MPEG-2 standard, and excluding patents that covered substitute technologies, was an important factor in finding that the pool would not result in anticompetitive effects. This rationale has been adopted in every subsequent pool that has been reviewed by the DOJ,Footnote 31 and was taken to its most extreme point in the Third Generation Patent Platform Partnership (3GPP) pooling structure, which involved five different competing standards for third-generation wireless communications.
US Department of Justice Antitrust Division, November 12, 2002
Ky P. Ewing, Esq.
Vinson & Elkins L.L.P.
1455 Pennsylvania Avenue, N.W.
Washington, D.C. 20004–1008
Dear Mr. Ewing:
This letter responds to your request on behalf of the 3G Patent Platform Partnership (“Partnership”) for the issuance of a business review letter pursuant to the Department of Justice Business Review Procedure, 28 C.F.R. § 50.6.
The IMT-2000 Family of 3G Standards
There are two generations of wireless communications systems in use today in the United States and other nations. The first uses analog transmission technology, while the second generation (“2G”) uses various digital transmission technologies and makes possible the provision of some additional services along with voice telephony. The third generation (“3G”) of wireless communication systems, also involving the use of digital transmission technologies, will enable not only wireless voice telephony, but also the transmission of data at rates much higher than those of the second generation systems, making additional applications possible.
As with the second generation, there will not be a single global 3G radio interface technology. Pursuant to its International Mobile Telephony-2000 (“IMT-2000”) project, the International Telecommunication Union (“ITU”) has approved five different radio interface technologies for use in 3G systems, which determine how a signal travels over the air from a user’s handset to an operator’s terrestrial network:
IMT-Multicarrier (“IMT-MC”), also known as CDMA-2000
IMT-Direct Spread (“IMT-DS”), also known as Wideband-CDMA (“W-CDMA”)
IMT-Time Code (“IMT-TC”), also known as TD-CDMA4
IMT-Single Carrier (“IMT-SC”), also known as UWC-136 or TDMA-EDGE
IMT-Frequency Time (“IMT-FT”), also known as Digital Enhanced Cordless Telecommunications (“DECT”)
Each 3G radio interface technology has evolved from one or more of the 2G technologies. W-CDMA, for example, is a descendant of the Global Standard for Mobile Communications (“GSM”), the 2G technology mandated throughout Europe and used in some other areas in the world as well. CDMA-2000, in contrast, has evolved out of IS-955 Code Division Multiple Access (“CDMA”), one of the two most widely used 2G technologies in the U.S., while TDMAEDGE builds on IS-136 Time Division Multiple Access (“TDMA”), the other most widely used 2G technology in the U.S. By design, each 3G technology will afford a degree of backwards compatibility with networks employing the 2G technology from which it evolved. While an operator’s choice of 2G technology is likely to be a significant factor in its choice of 3G technology, it does not appear to be determinative. Several substantial wireless operators in various countries, including the United States, have indicated that they are considering a 3G radio interface technology other than the one evolving most directly from the technology in the operator’s 2G installed base. Moreover, since many nations are awarding more licenses for 3G service than they had for 2G or are making additional spectrum available that could be acquired by other operators, there will likely be new entrants into 3G service unconstrained by installed base considerations. The alternatives available to an operator for its 3G radio interface standard could constrain prices or other terms offered by the owners of 3G patents, to the extent that individual patents are not essential for all five standards.
As with most standardized technology, utilization of any of the interface standards may implicate the patent rights of numerous entities. As of June 2000, a total of 45 firms had claimed ownership of at least one patent essential to compliance with one or more of the 3G radio interface standards to at least one standards-related body. Consequently, it appears likely that any operator of a 3G wireless system and any manufacturer of 3G equipment, whether handsets or network infrastructure, regardless of the particular radio interface technology it adopts, will need to acquire licenses from multiple patent holders, and for some standards may need licenses for a large number of patents. Each such patent owner could exclude an operator or manufacturer from the use of a 3G technology by denying it a license.
The Proposed 3G Patent Platform Arrangement
The 3G Patent Platform serves several distinct functions, including identifying, evaluating and certifying patents essential to compliance with one or more of the five distinct 3G standards in the IMT-2000 “family,” and providing a mechanism by which licensors and licensees can enter into a Standard License Agreement for each 3G patent applicable to a technology … As the Platform Specification makes clear, there will not actually be a single 3G Patent Platform entity, but rather a number of entities created with distinct personnel and responsibilities to carry out the various functions identified in the Platform Specification, and to ensure that where such functions may implicate competitive considerations among the five technologies, competitive choices are made independently for each technology rather than on a common basis.
The Platform will carry out licensing functions through five separate and independent Platform Companies (“PlatformCos”), one for each of the five 3G radio interface technologies, with a separate Licensing Administrator (“LA”) and a separate board of directors for each PlatformCo. The members of each PlatformCo will be the two subscribers initially chosen by the Partnership from firms likely to hold essential patents, and all licensors that thereafter submit patents for evaluation and are certified as holding essential patents applicable to that 3G technology. Each PlatformCo is to be managed by its board of directors, consisting of one representative of each licensor member, which will be responsible for decisions on royalty rates and license terms, while decisions on any changes to PlatformCo governing documents are made by PlatformCo members. The licensing functions assigned to each PlatformCo are to be conducted by its LA, recognizing the potentially competitively sensitive nature of these functions, but the LA generally does not act as a licensor and the LA’s responsibilities do not include the actual collection or distribution of royalties for licensors.
The five PlatformCos can have a limited number of shared functions, coordinated through a Management Company (“ManCo”) with which the PlatformCos are initially expected to enter into a service agreement, and a Common Administrator (“CA”) and an Evaluation Service Provider (“ESP”) to whom specific Manco responsibilities will be assigned or outsourced. The functions of ManCo are defined as: (1) patent evaluation service outsourced to the ESP; (2) evaluation-related services most likely outsourced to the CA; (3) education of third parties about the 3G Platform concept; and (4) industry-wide market research and analysis, as opposed to research and analysis for or regarding a specific company. The CA, whose responsibilities are focused on assisting the evaluation process and providing general information about 3G, will initially be selected by the Partnership but thereafter the five PlatformCos will be responsible collectively for appointing a CA. The members of ManCo are not limited to licensors, unlike the PlatformCos, but can include licensees and other interested parties in the industry. ManCo will be managed by a board of directors chosen by the members, and will also have non-voting representatives of each of the five PlatformCos on its board committees.
Once a licensor or licensee participates in any of the evaluation or-licensing processes established for a PlatformCo, it becomes subject to that PlatformCo’s licensing obligations. Licensors who submit any of their patents for evaluation are required to make all of their essential patents related to that specific 3G technology available under the relevant PlatformCo’s standard licensing terms to licensees that want to avail themselves of those terms. In turn, licensees who accept either a Standard License or an Interim License agreement from a licensor are required to submit all of their 3G-related patents for evaluation of essentiality, and to make such patents available under the platform terms if they are found to be essential. This “grant-back” obligation extends to third parties who receive sublicenses or make products using licensed technology on behalf of a licensee. However, this obligation is specific to the individual PlatformCos associated with a 3G technology, “and shall not be across PlatformCos,” so that submitting patents for evaluation or accepting a Standard or Interim License with respect to one 3G technology does not oblige a patent holder to submit its essential patents for review, to become a PlatformCo member, or to accept the platform licensing terms with respect to any of the other four 3G technologies. Patent holders and licensees can avoid the grant-back obligation entirely by negotiating bilateral licenses outside the Platform without using an Interim License. Licensors may also leave their PlatformCo on one year’s notice, though they remain obligated to license essential patents under the PlatformCo’s licensing requirements during that year and existing licenses remain in place after the resignation takes effect.
[Description of how the PlatformCos will evaluate essentiality of patents and license them to third parties is omitted.]
Analysis
It is reasonably likely that essential patents associated with a single 3G technology, as defined in the Platform Specification, will be complements rather than substitutes. Essential patents by definition have no substitutes; one needs licenses to each of them in order to comply with the standard. The arrangements proposed in connection with the Platform, including (1) the limitation of patents to those “technically” essential to compliance, (2) the provisions for review of essentiality by competent experts without conflicts of interest and payment of the costs of evaluation through fees assessed on applicants, (3) retention of the experts by the ESP rather than directly by licensors, and (4) the financial incentives of licensors to object to the inclusion of others’ non-essential patents that could lower per-patent compensation under the royalty formula, provide reasonable assurance that patents combined in a single PlatformCo for a 3G radio interface technology will not be substitutes for one another. In the future, patent holders for a specific 3G technology are free to develop new mechanisms to reduce costs of identification and licensing of essential patents which could further enhance competition, without affecting differences between technologies based on market forces.
There is however, publicly available evidence that several of the five 3G radio interface technologies have been competing with each other for adoption by wireless system operators and could continue to be the basis for competition among operators once 3G wireless services are on the market. There is a reasonable possibility that the five 3G radio interface technologies will continue to be substitutes for each other, and we would expect the owners of intellectual property rights essential to these technologies to compete, including through price, to persuade operators to adopt their technology. The actual Platform arrangements have been structured to take into account substitutability between 3G technologies by creating an independent PlatformCo to handle all licensing matters, including setting of actual royalty rates, with respect to each individual 3G technology. Though the five PlatformCos will operate under a standard Platform Specification, including a common methodology for calculating royalties due, and at least at the outset will make use of standard license terms, each PlatformCo will have the ability to modify license terms over time, and from the outset each PlatformCo will independently determine the key values used to calculate royalties.
Notes and Questions
1. And the winner is? Though the 3GPP pool included patents for five 3G standards, it soon became apparent that only one of the five contenders would emerge as the victor. The W-CDMA standard known as UMTS (Universal Mobile Telecommunications Standard), based on the European GSM 2G standard, was quickly adopted and rolled out in Europe and Japan. In South Korea, both major telecommunications carriers adopted the Qualcomm-backed CDMA-2000 standard, as did Verizon Wireless in the United States. AT&T and T-Mobile (an offshoot of Deutsche Telekom), however, opted for the European-style UMTS. US carriers remained split through the 2000s, causing incompatibility among their networks (i.e., an AT&T phone could not connect to Verizon’s network). However, with the advent of the 4G LTE standard in 2010, all major carriers around the world have moved to a single compatible standard. Are there any benefits to having a diversity of communications standards, or is the world better off with a single standard?
2. Five standards, five pools. As described in the DOJ’s 3GPP letter, each 3G standard had its own patent pool with separate administration and licensing. This structure was necessary to ensure that only patents essential to the individual 3GPP standards would be included in each pool, and that the standards would be able to compete with one another. Was this degree of patent segregation really necessary?
3. Nonessential patents. Sometimes, parties to a patent pool may inadvertently include a nonessential patent in the pool, or a standard may change so that a patent originally included in the pool becomes nonessential. Is this a problem? The Federal Circuit considered the question in Princo Corp. v. International Trade Com’n, 616 F.3d 1318 (Fed. Cir. 2010). There, Philips and Sony collaborated to create a standard for recordable and writable compact discs (CD-R/RW). While the standard was under development, each of Philips and Sony (as well as other companies) committed to pool their patents required to implement the standard. But by the time the final standard was agreed, it no longer contained technology covered by one of Sony’s patents (referred to as the Lagadec patent). Princo, a Taiwanese disc manufacturer, entered into a license for the pooled patents, but then stopped paying royalties after it realized that the Lagadec patent was not essential to practice the CD-R/RW standard. Princo argued that including the Lagadec patent in the pool constituted anticompetitive conduct by Sony and Philips.Footnote 32 The Federal Circuit rejected Princo’s arguments, reasoning that Philips’ and Sony’s engineers determined that the Lagadec technology was not a viable solution for recordable CDs. As a result, the Lagadec technology could not compete with or substitute for the final CD-R/RW standard. Therefore, its inclusion in the pool was not a violation of the antitrust laws. Do you agree? Why or why not?
4. Defensive patent aggregation. In response to perceived litigation threats from patent assertion entities, a new breed of firm called a “defensive patent aggregator” has emerged. The most prominent of these is RPX Corp. RPX claims that since its inception in 2008, it has acquired more than 60,000 patents in industries including automotive, electronics, computers, e-commerce, financial services, software, media, communications, networking and semiconductors.Footnote 33 As a result, RPX may represent the largest aggregation of patents ever assembled. Yet, as the Supreme Court made clear in Automatic Radio Mfg. Co. v. Hazeltine Research, Inc., 339 U.S. 827, 834 (1950), “The mere accumulation of patents, no matter how many, is not in and of itself illegal.”
RPX charges its member companies annual subscription fees based on their annual revenue, with fees ranging from tens of thousands to millions of dollars. RPX grants each of its 300+ members a license to practice all of RPX’s aggregated patent rights. These licenses last while a company is a member of RPX, and become perpetual after a certain number of years. Members are not required to grant RPX or other members any of their own patent rights. As such, RPX may be the largest patent aggregation ever created, but it differs substantially from the pools discussed in this chapter in a number of important respects:
RPX does not obtain patent rights from its members, but from third parties.
RPX’s patents cover many different technologies that, in theory, might compete or act as substitutes for one another, and are not evaluated for essentiality to any particular standard.
The fees paid by RPX members to the pool are not disclosed, and vary from member to member.
Given these differences, how relevant to patent aggregators like RPX are the DOJ’s and FTC’s analyses of the procompetitive effects of patent pools? Do you see any potential antitrust issues in such patent aggregation structures? Given the close question in Princo, which involved just one patent that was not essential to the CD-R/RW standard, does it matter that RPX members receive licenses to thousands of patents covering technologies that could act as substitutes for one another? What might the effect of such an arrangement be on innovation?
In 2012, RPX was sued by Cascades Computer Innovations LLC,Footnote 34 a patent assertion entity that sought to sell or license a portfolio of patents to RPX. When the deal failed to materialize, Cascades alleged that RPX represented an illegal buyer’s cartel that depressed the price for the patents that it sought to sell. The case was dismissed on other grounds prior to a hearing on the merits of the antitrust claim. But what do you think of Cascades’ theory? Is it relevant that RPX members can direct RPX to negotiate to acquire particular patent portfolios that they view as threats?Footnote 35