Categories
Copyright

Scalia Law Students and CPIP Scholars Make an Impact in Copyright Office Section 512 Study

the word "copyright" written on a typewriterThe U.S. Copyright Office released its long-awaited report on Section 512 of Title 17 late last week. The Report is the culmination of more than four years of study by the Office of the safe harbor provisions for online service provider (OSP) liability in the Digital Millennium Copyright Act of 1998 (DMCA). Fortuitously, the study period coincided with the launch of Scalia Law’s Arts and Entertainment Advocacy Clinic. Clinic students were able to participate in all phases of the study, including filing comments on behalf of artists and CPIP scholars, testifying at roundtable proceedings on both coasts, and conducting a study of how OSPs respond to takedown notices filed on behalf of different types of artists. The Office cites the filings and comments of Scalia Law students numerous times and ultimately adopts the legal interpretation of the law advocated by the CPIP scholars.

The Office began the study in December 2015 by publishing a notice of inquiry in the Federal Register seeking public input on the impact and effectiveness of the safe harbor provisions in Section 512. Citing testimony by CPIP’s Sean O’Connor to the House Judiciary Committee that the notice-and-takedown system is unsustainable given the millions of takedown notices sent each month, the Office launched a multi-pronged inquiry to determine whether Section 512 was operating as intended by Congress.

Scalia Law’s Arts and Entertainment Advocacy Clinic drafted two sets of comments in response to this initial inquiry. Terrica Carrington and Rebecca Cusey submitted comments to the Office on behalf of middle class artists and advocates, including Blake Morgan, Yunghi Kim, Ellen Seidler, David Newhoff, and William Buckley, arguing that the notice-and-takedown regime under Section 512 is “ineffective, inefficient, and unfairly burdensome on artists.” The students pointed out that middle class artists encounter intimidation and personal danger when reporting infringements to OSPs. Artists filing takedown notices must include personal information, such as their name, address, and telephone number, which is provided to the alleged infringer or otherwise made public. Artists often experience harassment and retaliation for sending notices. The artists, by contrast, obtain no information about the identity of the alleged infringer from the OSP. The Office’s Report cited these problems as a detriment for middle class artists and “a major motivator” of its study.

A second response to the notice of inquiry was filed by a group of CPIP scholars, including Sandra Aistars, Matthew Barblan, Devlin Hartline, Kevin Madigan, Adam Mossoff, Sean O’Connor, Eric Priest, and Mark Schultz. These comments focused solely on the issue of how judicial interpretations of the “actual” and “red flag” knowledge standards affect Section 512. The scholars urged that the courts have interpreted the red flag knowledge standard incorrectly, thus disrupting the incentives that Congress intended for copyright owners and OSPs to detect and deal with online infringement. Several courts have interpreted red flag knowledge to require specific knowledge of particular infringing activity; however, the scholars argued that Congress intended for obvious indicia of general infringing activity to suffice.

The Office closely analyzed and ultimately adopted the scholars’ red flag knowledge argument in the Report:

Public comments submitted by a group of copyright law scholars in the Study make a point closely related to the rightsholders’ argument above, focusing on the different language Congress chose for actual and red flag knowledge. They note that the statute’s standard for actual knowledge is met when the OSP has “knowledge that the material or an activity using the material on the system or network is infringing” or “knowledge that the material or activity is infringing,” while the red flag knowledge standard is met when the OSP is “aware of facts or circumstances from which infringing activity is apparent.” This difference, the copyright law scholars argue, is crucial to understanding the two standards: while the statute uses a definite article—“the”—to refer to material or activity that would provide actual knowledge, it drops “the” to speak more generally about facts or circumstances that would create red flag knowledge. “In Congress’s view,” the comment concludes, “the critical distinction between the two knowledge standards was this: Actual knowledge turns on specifics, while red flag knowledge turns on generalities.”

 

The Office went on to state that “a standard that requires an OSP to have knowledge of a specific infringement in order to be charged with red flag knowledge has created outcomes that Congress likely did not anticipate.” And since “courts have set too high a bar for red flag knowledge,” the Office concluded, Congress’ intent for OSPs to act upon information of infringement has been subverted. This echoed the scholars’ conclusion that the courts have disrupted the balance of responsibilities that Congress sought to create with Section 512 by narrowly interpreting the red flag knowledge standard.

Scalia Law students and CPIP scholars likewise participated in roundtable hearings on each coast to provide further input for the Copyright Office’s study of Section 512. The first roundtable was held on May 2-3, 2016, in New York, New York, at the Thurgood Marshall United States Courthouse, where the Second Circuit and Southern District of New York hear cases. The roundtable was attended by CPIP’s Sandra Aistars and Matthew Barblan. They discussed the notice-and-takedown process, the scope and impact of the safe harbors, and the future of Section 512. The second roundtable was held in San Francisco, California, at the James R. Browning Courthouse, where the Ninth Circuit hears cases. Scalia Law student Rebecca Cusey joined CPIP’s Sean O’Connor and Devlin Hartline to discuss the notice-and-takedown process, applicable legal standards, the scope and impact of the safe harbors, voluntary measures and industry agreements, and the future of Section 512. Several of the comments made by the CPIP scholars at the roundtables ended up in the Office’s Report.

In November 2016, the Office published another notice of inquiry in the Federal Register seeking additional comments on the impact and effectiveness of Section 512. The notice itself included citations to the comments submitted by Scalia Law students and the comments of the CPIP scholars. Under the guidance of Prof. Aistars, the students from Scalia Law’s Arts and Entertainment Advocacy Clinic again filed comments with the Office. Clinic students Rebecca Cusey, Stephanie Semler, Patricia Udhnani, Rebecca Eubank, Tyler Del Rosario, Mandi Hart, and Alexander Summerton all contributed to the comments, which discussed their work in helping individuals and small businesses enforce their copyright claims by submitting takedown notices pursuant to Section 512. The students reported on the practical barriers to the effective use of the notice-and-takedown process at particular OSPs. Two problems identified by the students were cited by the Copyright Office as examples of how OSPs make it unnecessarily difficult to submit a takedown notice. Accordingly, the Office called on Congress to update the relevant provisions of Section 512.

Two years after the additional written comments were submitted, the Office announced a third and final roundtable to be held on April 8, 2019, at the Library of Congress in Washington, D.C. The purpose of this meeting was to discuss any relevant domestic or international developments that had occurred during the two prior years. CPIP’s Devlin Hartline attended this third roundtable to discuss recent case law related to Section 512, thus ensuring that CPIP scholars were represented at all three of the Office’s roundtables.

CPIP congratulates and thanks the students of Scalia Law’s Arts and Entertainment Advocacy Clinic for their skillful advocacy on behalf of artists who otherwise would not be heard in these debates.

Categories
Antitrust Biotech Patents Pharma

Recent Developments in the Life Sciences: The Continuing Assault on Innovation by Antitrust Plaintiffs in Lantus

By Erika Lietzan

dictionary entry for the word "innovate"In February, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the First Circuit held, in a direct purchaser antitrust action, that an innovative pharmaceutical company marketing an injectable drug product had “improperly listed” in FDA’s Orange Book a patent claiming a mechanism used in the drug’s delivery device. As I explain below, the ruling creates the specter of antitrust liability for steps taken in good faith to comply with a complex regulatory framework that overlaps in part with patent law. I explain below how the ruling puts biopharmaceutical innovators in a tough spot.

First, the legal framework.

Federal law requires each company that submits a new drug application to identify the patents that claim the drug or a method of using the drug (if a claim of patent infringement could reasonably be asserted against someone who made, used, or sold the drug without a license). The application cannot be approved, if the company fails to submit the required information on a patent that satisfies the listing standard. (See section 505(d)(6) of the drug statute, here.) FDA publishes the patent numbers and expiration dates in the “Orange Book,” which takes the form of a PDF and electronic database.

Federal law also requires a generic drug applicant to take a position with respect to every patent that claims the drug or a method of using the drug — effectively, every patent listed in the Orange Book. For every unexpired patent, the generic applicant has two choices, which dictate when its application can be approved. (There’s a third option for a patent claiming a method of using the drug, which isn’t relevant here.)

It can choose to wait for patent expiry, which means filing a “paragraph 3 certification.” In this scenario, FDA cannot approve its generic drug for market entry until expiry of the patent.

Or it can say that it plans to market right away, because its product doesn’t infringe the patent or because it thinks the patent invalid, which means filing a “paragraph 4 certification.” In this scenario, it must notify the innovator (and patent owner, if different). (I’ll just say “innovator,” going forward.) As far as this patent is concerned, FDA can approve the generic drug for market entry as soon as its review is complete and assuming the generic drug is otherwise approvable with one important exception. If the patent was listed before the generic drug company submitted its application, and if the innovator files a patent infringement suit within 45 days of receiving notice, then final approval of the generic application is stayed for 30 months or until a district court ruling in the generic company’s favor (whichever happens first). The paragraph 4 certification is considered an act of infringement, which creates federal court jurisdiction.

The patent listing mechanism is intended to facilitate litigation of patent issues before market entry, which both industries wanted. The generic companies wanted a way to litigate these issues before launching, for example, because doing so avoids the risk of damages (for more information, see my article on the history and political economy of the legislation). The scheme encourages generic companies to participate by offering 180-day exclusivity in the market for the first to file a (true) generic application with paragraph 4 certification, and it encourages innovators to participate by offering the 30-month stay that makes it possible for the patent to be litigated before the generic drug launches.

These rules apply to companies that file true generic applications, for exact copies of the innovator’s drug. And with one exception they also apply to companies that file a different type kind of abbreviated application known as a 505(b)(2) application. The distinction between the types of application isn’t critical here. The one exception is that companies filing 505(b)(2) applications with paragraph 4 certifications aren’t eligible for 180-day exclusivity.

Second, applying the framework to combination products in particular.

The listing standard — “any patent which claims the drug for which the applicant submitted the application or which claims a method of using such” — has proved vexing to interpret.

In 1994, FDA published its first regulation interpreting this provision, stating that it meant “drug substance (ingredient) patents, drug product (formulation and composition) patents, and method of use patents,” but not “process patents.” But there have been questions about a variety of patent types over the years, and in 2003 — responding in part to requests for elaboration — the agency revised its regulations to provide more details about what it required to be listed and what was not to be listed.

At issue here: what to do with combination products. These products combine two regulated components, such as a device and a drug. Two discrete products packaged together for use together are, together, considered a “combination product.” But the phrase also means a single finished product that comprises two regulated components — thus a drug and device produced as a single entity. Combination products thus include prefilled drug delivery devices — such as a prefilled drug syringe, an auto-injector, or an metered dose inhaler (see here).

The question is whether the statute requires companies to list patents associated with the device component of these products.

FDA considered this in the 2003 rulemaking. The final regulation is 21 C.F.R. § 314.53, but the agency’s explanation of the regulation in the Federal Register — which has the formal status of an “advisory opinion” — is just as important.

The agency decided that “patents claiming a package or container must not be submitted.” Packaging and containers are “distinct from the drug product.”

Several commenters also argued that patents claiming devices that are “integral” to the drug product or require approval should be listed. FDA offered what it labeled as a “response.” The agency didn’t write that these patents “should” be listed, or that they “should not” be listed. Instead it said that a “drug product” is the drug in its “finished dosage form” — meaning the form administered to patients. And, it added, the current list of “dosage forms for approved products” — which appears in an appendix to the Orange Book — includes “aerosols, capsules, metered sprays, gels, and pre-filled drug delivery systems.” Elsewhere it wrote that a patent claiming the finished dosage form “must be submitted for listing.”

Now, the litigation and First Circuit ruling.

Sanofi-Aventis holds the approved marketing application for Lantus (insulin glargine recombinant), a long-acting human insulin analog used in treating diabetes. At first the company sold Lantus in multiple dose vials and in cartridges for use with a (separate) insulin delivery device. In 2007, however, FDA approved a supplemental application for sale of Lantus in a single-patient-use prefilled injector pen.

Sanofi has listed several patents in connection with Lantus. In connection with the prefilled pen, the company listed U.S. Patent No. 8,556,864 (drive mechanisms suitable for use in drug delivery devices), which issued in October 2013 and expires in March 2024. The parties agree that the ’864 patent claims the drive mechanism used in the Lantus pens, and FDA would not have approved the prefilled pens without a showing that the pen (including the drive mechanism) ensures patients safely receive accurate doses. But — and this turned out to be critical in the end — the patent doesn’t mention insulin glargine. Nevertheless, according to the agency, an insulin injector pen is a prefilled drug delivery system. And this makes it a dosage form. And patents claiming dosage forms must be listed.

In 2013, Eli Lilly submitted a 505(b)(2) application for a copy of Lantus, which it planned to market as Basaglar. It included a paragraph 4 certification to the ’864 patent and to various other patents as well. Sanofi brought suit. The case settled on the morning trial was scheduled to begin, with Lilly agreeing to pay for a license to launch in December 2016, seven years before patent expiry.

The plaintiffs in this antitrust litigation are drug wholesalers. They claim, among other things, that Sanofi improperly listed the ’864 patent. (As far as I can tell, Lilly didn’t raise the issue.) The district court dismissed their first amended complaint, pointing out that FDA has interpreted “drug products” to include “prefilled drug delivery systems” and that patents claiming drug products must be listed. The plaintiffs amended their complaint, but the district court dismissed again on largely the same grounds. Under a “reasonable interpretation” of the agency’s regulations, Sanofi had to submit the patent for listing. So, it couldn’t have been improper conduct to list the patent.

The First Circuit’s ruling came as a shock. In a unanimous decision, Judge Kayatta wrote that Sanofi had improperly listed the patent. He reasoned as follows. First, the statute and regulations call for listing of patents that claim the drug, and the patent doesn’t even mention the drug. Second, in 2003 FDA didn’t adopt the proposal that devices “integral” to the product should be listed. Instead, the agency said that companies should list patents that claim the finished dosage form. And this patent doesn’t, the court wrote; it claims a device that can be combined with other components to produce the finished dosage form.

Finally, the implications.

The innovative pharmaceutical industry has asked FDA repeatedly since 2003 — at least four times, including in citizen petitions — to clarify whether patents directed to drug delivery systems are supposed to be listed, if they don’t recite the drug’s active ingredient or formulation. The agency never answered these requests.

Although FDA’s failure to respond has been frustrating, it is my understanding that most companies — consulting with patent and regulatory counsel — have concluded these patents should be listed and that, in fact, they list them, and FDA publishes them. I have always thought this was the best reading of what FDA wrote in 2003. At the very least, it is a reasonable reading of what FDA wrote. It is deeply concerning that the First Circuit now purports to answer this question for the agency — no, these patents do not satisfy the listing standard — in litigation to which FDA was not a party and could not explain its interpretation of the statute or its expectations.

The decision is also fundamentally hostile to pharmaceutical innovators. The Hatch-Waxman scheme — statute, regulations, guidance, and precedent — is complex, and figuring out how it applies in any particular situation can be tricky. There are other unresolved listing issues, which companies and their counsel work through in good faith. The lesson here seems to be that an innovator trying to navigate uncertainty about the listing requirements does so at its peril.

On the one hand, failing to list a patent that satisfies the criteria has serious consequences. Listing is not voluntary; the statute requires it. The company must declare (“under penalty of perjury”) that its patent submission is “accurate and complete.” The patent submission form reminds the company that “a willfully and knowingly false statement is a criminal offense” under 18 U.S.C. § 1001. (And at least in theory, FDA would reject an application that lacked the required patent information, though I don’t know if this has ever happened or if it would happen.) Most importantly, failing to list a patent means there is no paragraph 4 certification, and thus no artificial act of infringement, and no opportunity to enforce the patent before generic market launch. Failing to list also passes up the benefit of the 30-month stay. And there may be concern that failure to list a patent is some sort of admission against the innovator’s interests in litigation.

On the other hand, listing a patent that doesn’t satisfy the criteria attracts antitrust scrutiny, presumably because the listing places an administrative burden on generic applicants and might trigger a stay of approval. And this case shows that a hostile court may disagree with the company’s reading of the statute, regulations, Federal Register, and precedent. Even if a company adopts what appears to many to be a reasonable interpretation of the patent listing requirements, a court might interpret the listing requirements on its own — without the benefits of FDA’s views — and force the company into expensive and time-consuming antitrust litigation. Indeed, two bloggers recently praised the decision, recommending that generic companies “examine the Orange Book listings,” as they may contain a “rich vein” for antitrust claims.

To be sure, as the court wrote, Sanofi can try to show, on remand, that its submission was “the result of a reasonable, good-faith attempt to comply with the Hatch-Waxman scheme.” This would provide a defense to any liability under the Sherman Act for “antitrust injury caused by” the submission. But the burden has shifted to the company, and much of the language in the court’s opinion suggests that this will be an uphill battle. (E.g., “The statute and regulations clearly require that only patents that claim the drug for which the NDA is submitted should be listed in the Orange Book. The ’864 patent … does not fit the bill.”)

A postscript from the administrative law side of the table.

Consider a counterfactual.

As a preliminary matter, recall that FDA’s regulations require companies to list patents on drug products. These regulations also state that the phrase “drug product” refers to a drug in its “finished dosage form.” FDA has said, for years, that a patent claiming a finished dosage form “must be submitted for listing.” Finally, it has listed prefilled drug delivery systems as a type of “dosage form” in the Orange Book.

Now suppose that FDA had responded to the industry requests for clarification and stated definitively — given what I just wrote — that a patent claiming any component of a prefilled syringe must be listed? In my view, this would be a defensible position for the agency to have taken, given the statute, the regulations, and what it has written to date.

What would have happened if this hypothetical FDA decision had gone to the First Circuit for review, in a totally different kind of lawsuit? Would the First Circuit really conclude that the agency’s interpretation of the statute was unreasonable or impermissible (Chevron)? Would it really conclude that the agency’s interpretation of its regulation was “plainly erroneous or inconsistent with the regulation” (Auer)? And if we think that the courts would (or should) defer to FDA in this hypothetical case, how can Sanofi’s decision possibly have been unreasonable?

In the end, the First Circuit’s ruling contains a troubling lesson for pharmaceutical innovators. When navigating uncertainty about a patent’s status under the patent listing requirements, even if it seems reasonable to conclude that FDA would require listing and even if the agency won’t answer the question, listing the patent in good faith creates a serious risk of facing antitrust litigation. The alternative, equally unappealing, is to relinquish the opportunity to enforce the patent before generic market entry, which conflicts with the purpose and design of the Hatch-Waxman Amendments and undermines the value of the patent.

Categories
Copyright

IP Scholars File Comments with OSTP on Public Access to Scholarly Publications

shelves full of booksA group of intellectual property scholars filed comments yesterday with the Office of Science and Technology Policy (OSTP), asking it to forgo its plans to make all federally-funded scholarly publications free and open to the public upon initial publication. The comments were submitted in response to a notice of Request for Information (RFI) that was published in the Federal Register seeking recommendations “on approaches for ensuring broad public access to the peer-reviewed scholarly publications, data, and code that result from federally funded scientific research.”

While the RFI did not specifically mention intellectual property rights, it is clear that any proposal to provide free access to federally-funded scholarly publications would have significant ramifications for the copyright owners of those works. The comments argue that any such plan to further lessen the exclusive rights of these owners should be rejected as it “ignores and destroys the resource-intensive review, translation, and commercialization processes required to produce and disseminate these manuscripts” and “confuses the so-called public domain with the public sphere or market.”

The comments are copied below, and you can download them here.

***

Intellectual Property Scholars’ Response to OSTP Request for Information FR Doc. 2020-06622, Regarding “Public Access to Peer-Reviewed Scholarly Publications, Data, and Code Resulting from Federally Funded Research”

May 6, 2020

The Office of Science and Technology Policy (OSTP) issued a Request for Information: Public Access to Peer-Reviewed Scholarly Publications, Data and Code Resulting From Federally Funded Research on February 12, 2020 (RFI).[1] The undersigned intellectual property (IP) scholars submit these Comments under the extended deadline.[2] We appreciate this opportunity to share our views on this important topic.

The RFI directs comments along four vectors: (i) current limitations on effective communication of research outputs and potential responsive changes; (ii) possible actions by Federal agencies to increase free and public access to federally funded research results; (iii) benefits to American science leadership and competitiveness from “immediate” access to outputs of research funded in part by Federal agencies; and (iv) other “information that might be considered for Federal policies related to public access to peer-reviewed author manuscripts, data, and code resulting from federally supported research.”

OSTP has a long and storied history across the twentieth century and down to the present. The Office played key roles in developing both the federal agency research funding system and the technology transfer system that are central policy components in America’s success as the science and technology global leader. While many comments will likely be directed to copyright in the context of scientific journals as commercial market publishers, our contribution prompts OSTP to align any new publication policies with the longstanding science and technology research and development (R&D) policies enshrined in the Bayh Dole Act of 1980 and related regulations for different types of federal research funding.

Federal extramural[3] research funding is divided into four categories: procurement contracts, governed by the Federal Acquisition Regulation (FAR);[4] grants, governed by Bayh-Dole;[5] cooperative agreements, also governed by Bayh-Dole;[6] and “other transactions,” limited to the Department of Defense and arguably governed by neither FAR nor Bayh-Dole.[7]

The purpose behind the distinctions is central to our Comments on the RFI. Whereas procurement contracts are used for the Federal government to acquire goods or services for its own use as any other market purchaser, grants and cooperative agreements are used for private contractors to engage in R&D leading to knowledge and materials that will be used primarily outside of the government. Thus, while title, ownership, or control of procured goods and services can properly vest in the Government, as for any market purchaser, title, ownership, and control of research results funded by grants or cooperative agreements vests in the contractor under the fundamental allocation rule and purpose of Bayh-Dole.[8]

Accordingly, any sense that research results—including inventions, data, or materials (biological or otherwise)—are produced by, or on behalf of, the government is false. To the contrary, the fundamental premise of Bayh-Dole (originating in earlier patent and extramural research funding policies of both the Kennedy and Nixon Administrations) is that title to government funded extramural research results are best left to recipient organizations such as universities (“contractors” in Bayh-Dole parlance) to license to the private sector for commercialization.[9] This is because the Federal government had proven woefully unable to secure the “practical application” of basic and applied sciences research. This meant that the benefits of such research were not realized by the public.

The same logic applies to written materials produced by grant or cooperative agreement funded investigators discussing their research results. Scientific publishing ventures are subject to the same dynamics as are commercialization ventures for technology produced under federally funded research. As scholars have documented, reputable scientific publishing requires costly private investment to sustain the international gold standard of peer review and the level of quality production, graphics, and searchable databases that promote the progress of credible science.[10] While copyrightable works are not covered by Bayh-Dole, neither are they “government works” when produced by grant or cooperative agreement funding recipients. This remains true even after the Supreme Court’s recent decision in Georgia v. Public Resource Organization, Inc.[11] Works commissioned under a procurement contract may be government works, and perhaps even statutory work made for hire, provided there was an express writing to that effect and the subject matter fit within one of the nine enumerated statutory types of works.[12] But again, that is not what is going on in federally funded extramural research occurring under grants and cooperative agreements.

At most, Federal agencies hold a non-exclusive license to use research results arising under grants or cooperative agreements for government purposes.[13] This generally does not include providing these things to the general public as a government service. It is possible that the Government could do so if it was willing and able to pre-empt the entire private market for this product and deliver copies of the patent or copyright protected item to the market that are commensurate with the quality of market participants. But this would require appropriation of massive amounts of taxpayer dollars to recreate what the private sector already provides efficiently.

Further, the fully commercialized versions of goods, services, and peer-reviewed articles that derived in part from federally funded research results are nearly always downstream products produced without government funding. Thus, any government license to research results does not necessarily apply to these finished products. For example, if federal funding led to a patentable invention that could be used in a smartphone, the government license would apply only to that patent and not the entire phone. Likewise, for peer-reviewed publications: to the extent a government use license exists just by virtue of standard agency funding agreements, it only applies to the research results, perhaps in the form of written lab notes.

Accordingly, even OSTP’s 2013 Memorandum directing agencies to require federal funding recipients to allow free public access to the final version of peer-reviewed publications may have been overreach that undercuts Congress’ extramural research policy goals set out in Bayh-Dole. If the Federal government wants to provide peer-reviewed private market produced publications to the public for free, it can procure them through the normal FAR contract system. This will of course cost a lot of money. But the Federal government should not be trying to get for free through the grant and cooperative agreement channels what it would otherwise have to buy in the open market. This principle should apply equally to peer-reviewed scientific publications as it does to other commercial market goods that embody Bayh-Dole subject inventions. The government does not get these goods for free, nor can it direct how contractors make them available to the market.[14]

Romantic notions of “open science” often used to justify open access policies are often based on idealistic myths not supported by the history of science. To the contrary, many of the greatest scientists in the Western tradition were highly protective and secretive with their research. Their processes and data were, after all, their competitive edge in the race for scientific priority and a long and fruitful research agenda. The results of their scientific inquiry, couched as “discoveries” or new laws or principles of nature, needed to be open and replicable, but that did not mean the underlying data or processes did.

While some bemoan “duplicative efforts” as wasteful, many of the most famous scientific races in history were replete with secretive independent traversing of the same ground. In fact, the British Royal Society allowed presentations of even research results to be done in private for awarding scientific priority and credit. This meant that such results were not made public. Ultimately, science seems to work best as a competitive market—at least as far as spurring rapid and pioneering advances. Open access works against this in the vain hope that a non-competitive collective will be equally motivated to long hours and expensive research.

No matter how you look at it, government-mandated immediate open access for copyrighted peer-reviewed manuscripts ignores and destroys the resource-intensive review, translation, and commercialization processes required to produce and disseminate these manuscripts. It confuses the so-called public domain with the public sphere or market. The most important is the latter—are innovative, creative, and valuable new writings being made available to the public in vetted commercially viable forms, perhaps for a fee, or are we simply mandating that inferior versions are made available for free? What is better? History and the market have already given us the answer.

We strongly urge OSTP to refrain from reducing further the already market-disruptive regulation that allows a mere 12-month embargo to recoup major investments in producing and disseminating peer-reviewed publications. Pushing access sooner will destroy the scientific publishing sector—with nothing to replace it in scale or quality—as well as dampen the successful competitive marketplace of scientific research. It will also unbalance the successful premise and system of R&D based off technology transfer under Bayh Dole.

Sandra Aistars*
Clinical Professor of Law
George Mason University, Antonin Scalia Law School

Devlin Hartline
Assistant Professor of Law
George Mason University, Antonin Scalia Law School

Joshua Kresh
Deputy Director, Center for the Protection of Intellectual Property
George Mason University, Antonin Scalia Law School

Adam Mossoff
Professor of Law
George Mason University, Antonin Scalia Law School
Co-Chair of the Technology, Innovation, and Intellectual Property Program
Classical Liberal Institute, New York University School of Law
Senior Fellow & Chair of the Forum for Intellectual Property
Hudson Institute

Christopher Newman
Associate Professor of Law
George Mason University, Antonin Scalia Law School

Sean O’Connor
Professor of Law
George Mason University, Antonin Scalia Law School

Kristen Osenga
Austin E. Owen Research Scholar & Professor of Law
University of Richmond School of Law

Mark Schultz
Goodyear Tire & Rubber Company Endowed Chair in Intellectual Property Law
University of Akron School of Law


[1] 85 F.R. 9488 (Feb. 19, 2020).

[2] 85 F.R. 17907 (Mar. 31, 2020).

[3] “Extramural” refers to research outside government owned and operated facilities. “Intramural” would instead signify research done within government owned and operated facilities.

[4] A procurement contract is used when “. . . the principal purpose of the instrument is to acquire (by purchase, lease, or barter) property or services for the direct benefit or use of the . . . Government; . . . .” 31 U.S.C. § 6303.

[5] A grant agreement is used when “. . . the principal purpose of the relationship is to transfer a thing of value to the . . . recipient to carry out a public purpose of support or stimulation authorized by a law of the United States instead of acquiring . . . property or services for the direct benefit or use of the . . . Government; and . . . substantial involvement is not expected between the executive agency and the . . . recipient . . . .” 31 U.S.C. § 6304.

[6] A cooperative agreement is used when “. . . the principal purpose of the relationship is to transfer a thing of value to the . . . recipient to carry out a public purpose of support or stimulation authorized by a law of the United States instead of acquiring . . . property or services for the direct benefit or use of the . . . Government; and . . . substantial involvement is expected between the executive agency and the . . . recipient . . . .” 31 U.S.C. § 6305.

[7] See GAO, Intellectual Property: Information on the Federal Framework and DoD’s Other Transaction Authority (GAO-01-980T, Jul. 17, 2001) (Statement of Jack L. Brock, Managing Director, Acquisition and Sourcing Management and John B. Stephenson, Director, Natural Resources and Environment, before the Subcommittee on Technology and Procurement Policy, Committee on Government Reform, House of Representatives).

[8] Federal agencies can modify the standard clauses of funding agreements (grants or cooperative agreements) to vest title, ownership, or control of research results in exceptional circumstances, but those have to be justified and documented.

[9] See Sean M. O’Connor, The Real Issue Behind Stanford v. Roche: Faulty Conceptions of University Assignment Policies Stemming from the 1947 Biddle Report, 19 Mich. Telecomm. & Tech. L. Rev. 379, 387-412 (2013), available at http://www.mttlr.org/volnineteen/oconnor.pdf.

[10] See, e.g., Adam Mossoff, How Copyright Drives Innovation: A Case Study of Scholarly Publishing in the Digital World, 2015 Mich. St. L. Rev. 955 (2015).

[11] No. 18-1150, 590 U.S. __ slip op. (2020).

[12] 17 U.S.C. 101, 201(b).

[13] See, e.g., 35 U.S.C. 202(c)(4)

[14] While Bayh-Dole does provide “march-in rights” under 35 U.S.C. 203 that allow the funding agency to grant licenses to the subject invention to third parties, this is only in the case where a contractor fails to achieve “practical application,” in the sense of getting a product embodying the subject invention to the market.

* Affiliations given for identification purposes only