Plot Twist: Understanding the Authors Guild v. OpenAI Inc Complaint

By: Stella Haynes Kiehn

While George R.R. Martin remains hard at work on the final installments in the critically acclaimed A Song of Ice and Fire series; in July 2023, one tenacious fan used ChatGPT to finish the series in a fraction of the time. For fans who don’t feel the urge to read speculations, ChatGPT can also write entirely new stories set in the style and world of any author whose work exists on the internet. These AI-generated novels are only part of a growing issue about the use of copyrighted works to train Large Language Models (LLM) such as ChatGPT. Now, the authors are looking to reverse the narrative. In a complaint filed on Sept. 19, 2023, in the Southern District of New York, the Author’s Guild, the nation’s oldest and largest organization of writers, is suing Open.AI, the maker of ChatGPT, in a class action lawsuit.

The complaint alleges that OpenAI used the authors’ voices, characters, stories, etc. to train ChatGPT, which in turn allowed users to create unauthorized sequels and derivatives of their copyrighted works. Plaintiffs argue that OpenAI should have first obtained a licensing agreement to use their copyrighted works. Plaintiffs also seek a permanent injunction against OpenAI to prevent the alleged harms from reoccurring. All authors seek damages for the lost opportunity to license their works, and for the “market usurpation defendants have enabled by making Plaintiffs unwilling accomplices in their own replacement.” The named plaintiffs include David Baldacci, Mary Bly, Michael Connelly, Sylvia Day, Jonathan Franzen, John Grisham, Elin Hilderbrand, Christina Baker Kline, Maya Shanbhag Lang, Victor LaValle, George R.R. Martin, Jodi Picoult, Douglas Preston, Roxana Robinson, George Saunders, Scott Turow, and Rachel Vail.

At issue legally is Title 17 of the United States Code. The complaint brings claims under 17 U.S.C. §501 for direct, vicarious, and contributory copyright infringement. 17 U.S.C. §501 allows for copyright owners to sue for enforcement of their exclusive rights and 17 U.S.C. §106 sets forth a list of exclusive rights for copyright owners. Different plaintiffs allege different infringements upon the §106 rights, but all plaintiffs commonly allege ChatGPT’s ability to provide derivative works infringed on their copyrighted materials. Under 17 U.S.C. §101, “a ‘derivative work’ is a work based upon one or more preexisting works, such as a translation, musical arrangement, dramatization, fictionalization, motion picture version, sound recording, art reproduction, abridgment, condensation, or any other form in which a work may be recast, transformed, or adapted.” For instance, Plaintiff Martin alleges that “when prompted, ChatGPT generated an infringing, unauthorized, and detailed outline for an alternate sequel to A Clash of Kings, one of the Martin Infringed Works, and titled the infringing and unauthorized derivative “A Dance With Shadows,” using the same characters from Martin’s existing books in the series A Song of Ice and Fire.” Under U.S. Copyright Law, only a copyright owner may prepare, or authorize someone else to prepare, a derivative work from the copyrighted material. All plaintiffs also commonly allege ChatGPT’s ability to recite verbatim passages from the copyrighted works. Under 17 U.S.C 106, only copyright owners can create, or license the ability to create, direct copies of their work. However, it should be noted that at the time the complaint was filed, ChatGPT will no longer provide direct excerpts from copyrighted works.

Screen capture of the blog author’s attempt to engage ChatGPT with copyrighted content.

Although it is certain that ChatGPT has produced infringing work, how do we know that OpenAI knowingly trained ChatGPT on copyrighted materials? The complaint provides multiple reasons. First, until very recently, “ChatGPT could be prompted to return quotations of text from copyrighted books with a good degree of accuracy, suggesting that the underlying LLM must have ingested these books in their entirety during its ‘training.’” Second, the presence of derivative works on the internet created by ChatGPT suggests that it had access to the source materials. For example, author Jane Friedman discovered “a cache of garbage books” written under her name for sale on Amazon that were created by ChatGPT. Third, it is likely that OpenAI trained ChatGPT on copyrighted items because, as one group of AI researchers have observed, books are essential for chatbot development; “[b]ooks are a rich source of both fine-grained information, how a character, an object or a scene evolve through a story.” Finally, OpenAI has essentially confirmed this to be true, stating that their  “training” data is “derived from existing publicly accessible ‘corpora’ … of data that include copyrighted works.”

Open AI maintains that its actions were lawful. In a blog post responding to the filing of The New York Times v. OpenAI, a suit about using New York Times copyrighted materials to train ChatGPT, OpenAI argues that “based on well-established precedent, the ingestion of copyrighted works to create large language models or other AI training databases generally is a fair use.” The Library Copyright Alliance (LCA) also supports a fair use argument, pointing to the history of courts applying the US Copyright Act to AI. Fair use is a legal doctrine that permits the unlicensed use of copyright-protected works in certain circumstances, such as for parody, comment, or criticism. The LCA focuses on “the precedent established in Authors Guild v. HathiTrust and upheld in Authors Guild v. Google.” Notably, in Authors Guild v. Google, the US Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit held that Google’s mass digitization of a large volume of in-copyright books to distill and reveal new information about them was a fair use. The LCA argues that “while these cases did not concern generative AI, they did involve machine learning” and the fair use precedents could summarily be applied.

Despite the plaintiff’s complaints about how AI is currently being used, the complaint specifically states that the “plaintiffs don’t object to the development of generative AI”.The complaint simply asserts that “defendants had no right to develop their AI technologies with unpermitted use of the authors’ copyrighted works. Defendants could have “‘trained’ their large language models on works in the public domain or paid a reasonable licensing fee to use copyrighted works.” In fact, the complaint specifically recognizes that OpenAI’s chief executive Sam Altman has told Congress that he shares Plaintiffs’ concerns. According to Altman, “Ensuring that the creator economy continues to be vibrant is an important priority for OpenAI. … OpenAI does not want to replace creators.”

Unfortunately for any curious Game of Thrones fans out there, the ChatGPT produced novels have been removed due to the pending lawsuit. However, as AI Chatbots grow more powerful, and users grow more adept, it is undoubtedly true that further lawsuits similar to this one will occur. Open AI amended the complaint in December 2023 to include Microsoft, an investor of OpenAI. The complaint now alleges that “OpenAI’s ‘training’ its LLMs could not have happened without Microsoft’s financial and technical support arising from OpenAI’s use of their copyrighted works to train ChatGPT.” The inclusion of Microsoft, a powerful defendant, against the Author’s Guild, a prominent litigant, creates the potential for this case to have far-reaching ramifications for both copyright holders and AI developers.

Fables: Free For All or Owned By One?

By: Drew Carlson

What does it take to release a copyrighted work into the public domain? On September 15, 2023, writer Bill Willingham decided to test just that, releasing his comic book series Fables into the public domain after years of fighting with his publisher, DC Comics (“DC”). Can an author release a work into the public domain before the copyright protection expires? If the author is the legal owner of the copyright, then he or she may do so, but this is often not the case. Willingham will need to prove he is the sole owner of the Fables copyright. 

Once Upon a Time

Willingham is the writer of the award winning comic book series Fables, published by DC Comics for their adult-oriented Vertigo imprint. The series is set in a universe where characters from fairy tales and folklore have taken refuge in modern day New York. They live in a secret community, hiding from both regular humans, and the Adversary who conquered their homelands.

According to Willingham, he signed a “creator-owned publishing contract” with DC, which made him the sole owner of the intellectual property but forbade him from “publish[ing] Fables comics” or licensing the property “through anyone but them.” The series’ copyrights were registered with the Copyright Office, each within two years of the work’s creation. It is not known which party submitted the registration. The copyrights list Willingham as author of the text, and DC as author of the art via work for hire.

The partnership between Willingham and DC did not live happily ever after, as disputes eventually arose. These disputes included DC failing to consult with Willingham when contractually required, underreporting his royalties, and trying to convince him to write future issues as “work for hire.” These slights culminated on September 15, 2023, when Willingham announced on his Substack that “the comic book property called Fables, including all related Fables spin-offs and characters, is now in the public domain.” His subsequent posts reiterated this point, saying, “As the sole owner and creator of the comic book property called Fables . . . I alone had the right . . . to do this.” He posted four blog posts in total discussing his decision. Willingham chose not to publish his full contract with DC for privacy reasons.

DC responded to Willingham’s declaration with its own, saying “The Fables comic books and graphic novels published by DC . . . are owned by DC . . . and are not in the public domain.

What is the Public Domain?

The public domain is a term for intellectual property that is owned by everyone. Under copyright law, owners hold many exclusive rights to their work, such as the right to publish, reproduce, or create derivative works. By contrast, public domain works, because they belong to everyone, have no limitations on their use.

Some public domain works were once copyrighted, their rights having expired, e.g. Pinnochio or Sherlock Holmes; others were always in the public domain, works such as Cinderella or Snow White that were never granted copyright protection for one reason or another. 

Does Willingham own Fables?

If Willingham’s contract says what he claims, he does own Fables. Under copyright law, the author of the work is the initial owner. However, if more than one individual contributes substantial elements to the work, while intending their contributions to join into one joint work, they are joint-authors. Joint-authors each own an equal and undivided share in the entire work. No joint owner can convey more than they own. For instance, none of them can make an exclusive license without the other owners’ written permission since that would violate the other owners’ rights. Comic books where one author writes the text and the other draws the art qualify as joint works. Works made by employees are “works for hire,” where, unless agreed otherwise, the employer is considered the author of the work. Copyrights can also be transferred or assigned. 

When a copyright is registered within five years of the work’s creation, the registration and the facts within are presumed valid, which may be rebutted if a party “offers some evidence” to dispute the registration’s validity.

The Copyright Office lists both Willingham and DC as the authors of Fables, Willingham for the text, and DC for the art. Since comic books are joint works, and the copyrights were registered within five years of creation, Willingham and DC comics are presumed joint-owners of Fables.

However, this presumption can be rebutted by showing disputing evidence, such as Willingham’s contract. If Willingham is correct that his contract gives him sole ownership of Fables, then it would prove that DC transferred any ownership it possessed as a joint-author to Willingham. Thus, Willingham would be the sole owner. 

It is unknown whether Willingham or DC registered Fables’ copyrights as joint-works. If Willingham did, then DC might try to argue that Willingham did not treat Fables as his. However, such an argument could be countered with the fact that DC themselves assigned their rights to Willingham. Willingham could also point out that he has followed his contract for over twenty years.

How does sole ownership versus joint ownership affect Willingham’s authority to release Fables into the public domain?

Can Willingham Place Fables into the Public Domain?

Willingham has the authority to release Fables into the public domain provided that he is the sole owner. While there is no express provision for abandonment in the Copyright Act, several court cases say that proprietors can abandon a copyright if they both intend to abandon the work and perform an overt act demonstrating that intent. However, an owner must be very clear about what they mean to abandon. Once, a man made several meditation videos and repeatedly said he neither cared about copyrights nor wanted to control his videos. These statements released one of his videos into the public domain, but were insufficient to release his later ones. On the other hand, in 2002 an architect provided designs for a competition, signing a document saying that he retained no copyrights to them. This admission released such designs into the public domain.

Willingham clearly intended to release his work; he said so multiple times. He also made not one, but four overt acts via his Substack posts, which repeatedly stated his intent to surrender all of Fables into the public domain. Therefore, if Willingham is indeed the sole owner, he may release Fables into the public domain.

If Willingham and DC are joint-owners, though, then Willingham cannot release Fables into the public domain. The rule regarding exclusive licenses stipulates that one owner cannot negate another’s right without written permission. Willingham did not have DC’s permission, meaning he cannot unilaterally terminate their share.

What happens next?

DC Comics publicly maintains that it owns Fables, but it has not filed any legal action. Since a lawsuit against Willingham or accused infringers risks a court declaring the entire series to be within the public domain, DC will likely avoid litigation whenever possible. Instead, it will use the undetermined nature of Fables’s ownership to deter would-be copiers through the threat of a potential lawsuit. Things will likely not stand at this stalemate for long though, as there will inevitably be those who take Willingham at his word and use Fables for their own creative works. DC will quickly have to decide how many alleged violations it can let slide before going to court.

Happily Ever After?

If Willingham is indeed the sole owner, per his claimed contract, then a court would likely find the series to be properly released into the public domain. If Willingham is not, then DC retains its exclusive right to publish the series. Ultimately, the answer to this question centers on contract law, specifically whether DC transferred its ownership. Without viewing Willingham’s contract, it is impossible to say for certain who will prevail. Should Willingham prevail, the threat of placing works into the public domain will hand creators a bargaining chip against unscrupulous publishers. Should DC emerge victorious in litigation, publishers will have a reinforced blueprint to compel creator compliance.Will Fables be freed into the public domain to live happily ever after or remain trapped within the walls of its wicked stepmother’s copyright control? We will just have to wait and see.

Can we go see Mickey? We have Mickey at home! Mickey… at home?

By: Kevin Vu

Nearly 100 years ago, Walt Disney released “Steamboat Willie,” showcasing Mickey Mouse’s first adventure. That mouse would kickstart what is now one of the world’s biggest companies, Disney. Today, Disney does a variety of things: it operates its own streaming services, runs a majority of the world’s most popular theme parks, and releases some of the world’s highest grossing movies. At the center of all that success is Mickey Mouse, who’s been dubbed “the world’s most famous cartoon character.” But Mickey is no longer just Disney’s to parade around, recently Mickey has become part of the public domain. What does being part of the public domain really mean though? This blog will explore and explain Mickey’s complicated history with copyright, what the public domain is, and what being in the public domain means for both Mickey’s future and others similarly situated to him. 

Copyright’s Origins

Copyright law originates from Article I, Section 8, Clause 8 of the United States Constitution which provides that Congress shall have the power “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.” Copyright is a set of protections from the federal government for originally created works. Copyright disallows others from using the work without the author’s permission, and as was alluded to earlier, protection generally lasts for the author’s lifetime plus 70 years after the author’s death. In 1790, Congress used that power to pass the first Copyright Act which extended protection of works to 14 years, with a renewal period of another 14 years. 

Then, in 1909, a new Copyright Act doubled the length of protection for works from 28 years to 56 years, along with adding protections for motion pictures. “Steamboat Willie” was then released in 1928, and fast-forwarding some years and some minor changes to the Copyright Act, Disney entered the copyright arena in 1998. By that time, Mickey’s copyright was set to expire in 2003. Disney, worried about its copyright for Mickey, successfully lobbied Congress to protect him for 20 more years—extending his copyright expiration date to 2024. But that was the final extension for the mouse, as he is now part of the “public domain,” no longer just the sole property of Disney. 

What’s the Public Domain?

In contrast to copyrighted works, the public domain consists of “creative materials that are not protected by intellectual property laws such as copyright, trademark, or patent laws.” That means that items which were not originally subject to intellectual property protections, like laws for example, are part of the public domain and freely usable by individuals. Creative materials, like Mickey, which were previously protected under laws like copyright may also become part of the public domain once their copyright has expired.

Once something is in the public domain, it is fair game for any one to use. As the United States Supreme Court articulated in Dastar Corp. v. Twentieth Century Fox Film Corp., uncopyrighted materials are not protected under federal law. Further, because Article I, Section 8, Clause 8 vests the power to protect creative endeavors in Congress, states are precluded from passing copyright laws under the Supremacy Clause of the U.S. Constitution. This means that anyone can use works in the public domain without obtaining permission or giving credit to the original author, and no one can ever own that work.

Mickey… at home?

One can immediately see why Mickey’s move to the public domain is problematic for Disney. 20 years ago, it was estimated that Mickey Mouse had made over $5.8 billion for Disney. This explains why Disney was adamant about lobbying Congress for copyright protection extensions, as Mickey going to the public domain could affect his worth. 

Fast-forwarding to today, Mickey has entered the public domain, with one company has already announced that they plan on making a Mickey Mouse horror movie, following in the footsteps of “Winnie-the-Pooh: Blood and Honey,” a Winnie the Pooh slasher movie created when Pooh Bear entered the public domain in 2023. Ultimately, it remains to be seen what else individuals will do with Mickey.

But luckily for Disney, Mickey’s presence in the public domain does not spell the end of their rights to the iconic character. Copyright law makes distinctions between versions of characters meaning only the “Steamboat Willie” version of Mickey is in the public domain and usable by anyone. The red shorts, big-boots, and high-pitched voice of the current Mickey Mouse remains Disney’s property, and is therefore subject to copyright protection. Another thing to note is that Disney’s use of Mickey as a brand or symbol is protected under trademark law. So, while “Steamboat Willie” Mickey is freely usable, individuals should be careful not to confuse that character with his newer versions, and avoid making it seem like Disney endorses their new creative work. As some commentators have noted, Disney is actively seeking to protect its brand and anyone seeking to use Mickey should seek out legal counsel.  

Ultimately, it remains to be seen whether Mickey’s introduction into the public domain will create new, expansive creative works, or if Disney will continue to aggressively fight for the mouse. Whatever the case, Mickey’s move into the public domain is a historic event, and its effects remain untested.

Football is Back: the Renaissance of EA Sports College Football

By: Karina Paup Byrnes

What is it like waiting a decade to play a video game? Just ask fans of Electronic Arts (EA) Sports National Collegiate Athletic Association (NCAA) Football. Over ten years ago, what was thought to be the final iteration of EA Sports’ popular game was released in 2013, NCAA Football 2014. The NCAA Football series had been a profitable investment for EA, with NCAA Football 2014 selling over 1 million copies. However, no subsequent iteration of the game was released due to an antitrust class action lawsuit that was filed by then current and former NCAA athletes whose likenesses were portrayed in EA’s game without compensation. O’Bannon v. NCAA challenged the NCAA’s prohibition of athletes receiving compensation for their name, image, and likeness (NIL).

In July 2009, Ed O’Bannon, a former UCLA men’s basketball player, filed the lawsuit. In 2008, EA Sports published an NCAA basketball video game with a character depicting O’Bannon without his consent. O’Bannon sued the NCAA, the Collegiate Licensing Company (CLC), the entity responsible for licensing the NCAA’s brand, and EA. Numerous players joined the lawsuit as plaintiffs, representing over 24,000 college athletes who had been featured in various EA’s football and basketball video games between 2003-2014. Before the trial began, EA Sports and the CCL settled with the athletes for $40 million, leaving the NCAA as the sole defendant. The settlement was paid to tens of thousands of players, with each player eligible for up to $4,000. O’Bannon received roughly $15,000 for being a lead plaintiff.

With the NCAA proceeding as the defendant in the trial, in a major decision, the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit ruled in favor of O’Bannon. The judges held that the NCAA refusing to allow college athletes to profit off of their name, image, and likeness, “constituted an anti-competitive conspiracy by the more than 1,200 member NCAA colleges, conferences and affiliate organizations.” The Court found that the NCAA conspired to deny men’s basketball and football players of the monetary value of their names, images, and likenesses  for commercial gain.”

The O’Bannon decision led to an influx of additional lawsuits against the NCAA, eventually forcing the NCAA to amend its rules to allow college athletes to profit off of their name, image, and likeness. This new provision has momentously impacted college sports, with student athletes collectively earning nearly  $1 billion in the first year of the rule change. These changes have also greatly benefited the companies that want to partner with athletes in using their name, image, and likeness.

In the wake of the O’Bannon decision and the NIL revolution in college sports, EA Sports has quickly seized the opportunity to revive the extremely profitable NCAA Football series with the consent of the athletes depicted in the game. However, this announcement was not without controversy, with athletes arguing that EA’s original offer of $500 payments to each athlete for their likeness is much too low.

Additionally, a lawsuit was brought against EA Sports over NCAA Football 2025 by the Brandr Group, a company representing dozens of colleges and universities, over a licensing dispute regarding their clients’ name, image and likeness rights. The complaint alleges that EA Sports did not negotiate with the Brander Group, despite the agency firm representing many NCAA Division 1 schools. Instead, EA Sports contracted with a different licensing representative company OneTeam Partners, cutting the Brandr Group out of the deal. The Brandr Group alleged that this practice hurt the college athletes wanting to be featured in the video game because the individual players have far less bargaining power if they are not able to be represented by their university’s licensing representative. Ultimately, the Brandr Group dropped its lawsuit and decided to “monitor the progress of NCAA Football before determining whether further legal action is needed to protect its clients.” Yet, the Brandr Group’s argument highlights the important question of who has the authority to represent college athletes in a group licensing contract when there is no players’ union?

As of February 15, 2024, the numerous legal roadblocks impeding the release of NCAA Football 2025 have now been resolved. Now with more clarity on the legal landscape, EA Sports has officially dropped a teaser for its video game, signaling the game’s impending release. The excitement is palpable, with rumors buzzing, predicting who will be featured on the cover and if the projected release date of Summer 2024 will hold true. EA Sports is equally as excited, cashing in on their investment of over a decade of labor to the joy of fans who have kept the interest of the game alive. It is hard not to view NCAA Football 2025 as a licensing feat. The sheer scale of coordination necessary to produce and license the properties for a project this large is no small task and demonstrates the power that athletes now hold over their name, image, and likeness. However, it is important to remember that a power imbalance nonetheless exists between college athletes and the billion-dollar companies they partner with. To preserve the Ninth Circuit’s reasons for allowing NIL deals in the first place, athletes should be supported in guiding the new landscape of licensing.

Musk on the Brain

By: Bella Hood

Unsurprisingly, inventing a novel brain implant requires navigating through a field of legal landmines. Elon Musk’s company, Neuralink, founded in 2016, continues to forge ahead in the development of a chip that the company is now calling Telepathy. Despite managing an abundance of legal hurdles and more guaranteed on the horizon, last month, Neuralink implanted the chip into a human for the first time.

Neuralink’s headlining product is the size of a quarter and designed to sit in the part of the brain that controls movement. Neuralink states that “the device is designed to interpret a person’s neural activity, so they can operate a computer or smartphone by simply intending to move – no wires or physical movement are required.” According to the company website, “the implant is powered by a small battery charged wirelessly from the outside via a compact, inductive charger that enables easy use from anywhere.” Musk, the owner and active user of X, posted on the social media site recently saying the first target users will be “those who have lost use of their limbs” and adding, “imagine if Stephen Hawking could communicate faster than a speed typist or auctioneer. That is the goal.” While Neuralink and Telepathy are getting a lot of attention, this is not the first time a brain-computer interface (BCI) has been implanted into a human. In fact, in the late 1990s, a scientist named Phil Kennedy developed a BCI that allowed a paralyzed patient to move a computer cursor using her brain.

One of the larger regulatory impediments has proven to be the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA). The FDA is the federal agency responsible for ensuring the safety, efficacy, and security of medical devices, among other things. In 1976, Congress made FDA approval a requirement for medical devices to be sold in the U.S. The agency is led by the Commissioner of Food and Drugs, who is appointed by the President of the United States.

Neuralink announced in September 2023 that it received FDA approval to launch its first “in-human clinical study.”  The FDA previously denied permission in 2022 noting “major safety concerns” involving “the device’s lithium battery; the potential for the implant’s tiny wires to migrate to other areas of the brain; and questions over whether and how the device can be removed without damaging brain tissue.” The clinical trial will seek people ages 22 and older living with quadriplegia due to spinal cord injury or amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. Despite receiving approval to conduct the clinical study, Neuralink is only on step 3 of 5 on the FDA’s device development process.

Aside from FDA approval, the development of the chip has stoked anger amongst animal welfare groups and brought accusations of illegal conduct. In February 2023, the U.S. Department of Transportation conducted an investigation into alleged “unsafe transport of contaminated hardware.” Pete Buttegieg is the current Secretary of Transportation, appointed by President Biden in 2021. The Department oversees all national transportation policy. The investigation came after an animal welfare group claimed public records, including emails between Neuralink executives and the University of California, Davis, showed that Neuralink potentially violated federal hazmat law in 2019. Because UC Davis is a public institution, it is subject to public records requests. 

Neuralink’s run-ins with federal agencies do not stop there. The same animal welfare group filed a complaint with the U.S. Department of Agriculture in 2022 accusing Neuralink of violating the Animal Welfare Act which regulates the treatment of animals in research, transportation, sale, and handling.

Between 2018 and December 2022, the company killed roughly 1,500 animals, including pigs, sheep, and monkeys. Critics lament that while animal deaths are certainly not uncommon in scientific research, the process and speed of Neuralink’s research has exacerbated the mistreatment of these animals.

Yet another area of law Neuralink has exposed itself to is securities regulation. In November 2023, Four Democratic House Representatives sent a letter to the Securities Exchange Commission (SEC) demanding an investigation into Musk’s recent statements regarding the company’s handling of animals. The lawmakers are concerned that the billionaire’s statements “downplayed investor concerns about the results of its animal testing.” The Securities Act of 1933 was enacted after the stock market crash in 1929 and designed to protect investors by increasing transparency surrounding financial information and prevent misrepresentation by issuers of securities. By downplaying the animal abuse incidents, Musk may have painted a more stable picture of the private company than was accurate at the time, leading investors to increase their investments. It remains to be seen whether Musk will face further investigations over potential securities fraud.

Aside from concerns over animal welfare, transportation, and securities exchange compliance, new issues with data privacy will no doubt come to the forefront if Musk’s device continues to develop. Experts have already expressed concern over the ownership of personal data collected by the implant and who will have access to sensitive information about users. Seeing as the biggest hurdle by far, a human successfully living with and utilizing the implant, has yet to be surpassed, Neuralink’s legal team is sure to have no shortage of problems to tackle in the foreseeable future.