So, What the Hell is a NFT, Legally?

As you may already know, the Internet has been abuzz recently with “NFT“s, or Non-Fungible Tokens, an offshoot of blockchain technology, a form of distributed ledger. Basically, an NFT is an electronic token (an asset, of sorts) that been created and placed on a blockchain , and which is capable of containing certain information and passing from one buyer to the next.

Recently, artists realized that they could personally create and authenticate tokens but associating them with some of their works (think copyright), in essence creating digital tidbits capable of being bought, sold and exchanged, over time. This, couple with a limited supply, created an instant collectors’ market of NFT enthusiasts and who are now investing in upcoming artists, in a manner that is strangely reminiscent of Renaissance patrons of the arts. This allows artists to make some money and collectors to… well… collect.

The numerous stories I’ve been seeing online about this lead me to reflect as to what exactly these little electronic tidbits are, legally I mean. Are people buying art, perhaps electronic copies, or something else?

Legally, the first thing we should note is that this little trend does NOT involve people dealing or trading art (or I.P.) online. No real transfer of rights (intellectual or otherwise) gets created or transferred when buying an NFT-type electronic token, not really anyway. In effect, what will happen upon any of these purchases is that a transaction will be recorded on the blockchain at issue, showing you as the “owner” of such and such token. Period.

Does this grant you a real right of ownership to that intangible? Maybe, maybe not. But one thing for sure, what these transactions do NOT do, is transferring title to any intellectual property, such as the copyrights in this drawing or this photo, for example. So, contrary to some may be thinking reading stories about the NFT-craze, people are not buying the I.P. to copyrighted works using this scheme.

Sure, people may be buying (using the term loosely) something that was created by Mr. X, and then get bragging-rights about it, but little else. Sure the NFT may be one of the few linked to that particular piece of artwork (a music album, for example) but little else. Buying an NFT does NOT get you any real rights to the actual artwork or the I.P. to it.

The truth of it is, at law, we’re not dealing with any asset that can be readily categorized or put in a neat little box here. NFTs are rather a pure creation of the electronic age, before any rights or legislation applies to them. In effect, those who create NFTs decide what little rights (let’s call them that) they are deciding with accompany their offering of NFTs. In practice, this will usually translate to fairly little, for example a personal right (read license) to display a piece of artwork for one’s personal pleasure, etc.

So, if your reflex upon reading this is to ask what a NFT is good for, the honest answer may be: to fill an artist’s pockets. That said, don’t get me wrong, NFTs are a cool idea and I’m all for encouraging budding artists with a modicum of intermediaries who’ll profit in between; let’s just be clear as to what little legal effects are created when buying one of these tokens. At least for now anyway, we’re not dealing with anything that has inherent great value here, aside from what other collectors may be after that is.

Court Rejects Outright Infringement Proceedings Against IKEA Relating to Stuffed Animals

The Québec Superior Court (the “S.C.”) recently threw out a copyright infringement lawsuit alleging that IKEA had copied a line of stuffed animals from a local artist. Notwithstanding the resemblance between the concepts of the stuffed animals at issue, the court rejected the suit offhand, because it did not relate to any work recognized as such by the Canadian Copyright Act.

The case at issue, Bouchard v. Ikea Canada (2021 QCCS 1376), which pitted a Québec-based artist to the international retailer, alleged that IKEA had illegally copied a line of stuffed animals from Ms. Bouchard, which it then sold in its stores as the Sogoskatt collection. Faced with what she perceived to be a copy of her works, Ms. Bouchard filed copyright infringement proceedings against several parties, including IKEA, before Québec courts.

Unfortunately for Ms. Bouchard, Ikea managed to torpedo her lawsuit at an early stage. To do so, it filed a motion to throw out the case outright because, at law, there really was no real issue to be tried. After examining the motion at issue, the S.C. agreed this case did not present any real issue the judicial system should bother analyzing and taking on. Since this case was introduced as a copyright matter, without any “works” to justify the proceedings at issue, the courts should refuse to further hear the case. Period.

The explanation of this rejection of the case resides in what Ms. Bouchard argued was hers and which IKEA had illegally copied. Namely, the artist testified that, notwithstanding IKEA’s own stuffed animals being different from her own creations, she considered that there were substantial similarities reproducing the distinctive “style” or “look” of her own line of stuffed animals. Unfortunately for her, as you probably know, copyright law does NOT deal well with abstracts like inspiration, ideas, concepts, styles, etc. Rather, copyright is generally concerned with specific works being copied to a substantial degree. Before looking at the substantial degree to which a work has been copied, however, you first need to have… well… a “work”, as defined by the Copyright Act. No work, no possibility of any infringement.

In the case at issue, the works which the artist alleged had been copied had not been copied, or if there was a copy, it was the copy of a style, of a certain look or that of a certain way to make stuffed animals. This, of course, did NOT constitute a copy of the works (the actual stuffed animals) themselves, only of a sort of concept for stuffed animals such as these.

As a result, the S.C. had little trouble throwing out Ms. Bouchard’s case against IKEA. Sorry, but alleging you have a monopoly over a certain style of something does not a monopoly make. Sure, you may be the inventor of a new style or concept of something, but that does not mean you have the exclusive rights to it, at least certainly not by virtue of copyright law. Had this case been presented based on invention or patent rights, industrial designs or trademarks, it may have stood a chance but copyright does NOT extend to abstracts like concepts, ideas and styles. It never did and never will.