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Mailbag for April 15, 2011

Posted on April 15, 2011 by | 23 comments

This week’s reader questions are about intellectual property issues, including trademarked superhero slogans and copyright across alternate universes.  As always, if you have questions or post suggestions, please send them to james@lawandthemultiverse.com and ryan@lawandthemultiverse.com or leave them in the comments.

I. Copyright and Alternate Universes

John asks, “In an issue of New Excalibur, Nocturne (Talia Wagner; the daughter of Nightcrawler from an alternate universe), is listening to her iPod.  Dazzler asks what she has on it, and Nocturne tells her it is the Beatles 40th anniversary album.  Apparently in her universe the Beatles never broke up, and John Lennon was never killed.  …

What if somehow either by file sharing or a hacker, the contents of Nocturne’s iPod becomes available to the larger 616 universe.  Who can lay claim to the rights of intellectual property and royalties (if anyone)?  [Assume that the alternate universe copyright holders cannot lay a claim themselves.]”

The answer is a bit complicated. For conciseness and readability we’ll use the phrase “Earth 616 Beatles” to refer to the Beatles and their heirs, successors, and assigns (i.e. whoever it is that owns the relevant intellectual property).

First we must decide if there is an Earth 616 copyright in the recordings at all.  Since the alternate universe United States is not a signatory to the Earth 616 Berne Convention, it’s quite possible that the courts would take the view that there is no copyright in the work at all, or at least not one that the Earth 616 United States recognizes.  NB: Talia can’t claim copyright in the recordings herself because she didn’t create them.  But what if the copyright were recognized?

We still don’t think the Earth 616 Beatles have a copyright claim.  Clearly they didn’t create the tracks outright, and even if the album incorporated music that was substantially similar—or even identical—to Earth 616 Beatles music, the defense of independent creation absolves the alternate universe Beatles (and thus Talia) of any liability for infringement because the alternate universe Beatles created their music without ever knowing about the Earth 616 Beatles.  Indeed, coming up with the same music in an alternate universe is about as independent as independent creation can get.  Notably, independent creation is something the Earth 616 Beatles—George Harrison at least—should be very familiar with.  See ABKCO Music, Inc. v. Harrisongs Music Ltd., 722 F.2d 988 (2d Cir. 1983).

The first complication comes from trademark and the right of publicity.  Theoretically the Earth 616 Beatles could sue to prevent Talia and others from misrepresenting the music as ‘Beatles music.’  They could seek an injunction requiring them to describe it as coming from an alternate universe with no connection to the Earth 616 Beatles.  This would create a contrast to their own “genuine Earth 616 Beatles creations.”

The second complication comes from the possibility of criminal copyright infringement.  While we may assume that Talia properly purchased her copy in the alternate universe, anyone else making copies might run afoul of the criminal copyright infringement statute.  17 USC 506.  If the US government recognized a copyright in the works, it could prosecute distributors of the work even though the copyright holders couldn’t possibly benefit, since they’re in an alternate universe.

Of course, if the Earth 616 US passed an orphan works law, this would be a perfect case for it, since the copyright holders can’t be located.

II. Superhero Slogans and Trademarks

Walter asks, “[Y]ou’ve covered copyrights and trademarks but what about slogans or words of power?  Take, for example, Captain Marvel and the word “shazam.” In the real world, that word is being used by several companies, including a music app recently prominently featured in a television campaign. If the word “shazam” is a legal trademark of the company [it is —James], is Captain Marvel in violation of a law for using it for his transformation? Should he have copyrighted his secret word to protect if from this sort of situation?

The answer to the first question is: probably not.  First, trademark infringement generally requires “the sale, offering for sale, distribution, or advertising of … goods or services” 15 USC 1114(1)(a) & (b).  We suppose Captain Marvel could be accused of advertising his services as a crimefighter, but that’s a slender reed upon which to build a case.

Second, most trademarks only protect particular areas of use (e.g. in this case, “software for music recognition,” among other things).  I think it would be pretty unlikely for a company to register a trademark in the area of “superheroic crimefighting,” which is the essential area of use for Captain Marvel.

Third, trademark infringement depends on a likelihood of mistake, deception, or confusion between the mark and the allegedly infringing use.  Id.  I don’t think it’s very likely that a bystander will hear Captain Marvel transform and think “ah! I’ll bet he could tell me the name of the song I’ve been humming” or “ah! I’ll bet he’s sponsored by the music app people.”

Now, there’s a higher standard for what are called famous marks (e.g. the really ubiquitous names like Kodak and McDonald’s).  Some marks are so famous that they apply to all areas of use.  What’s more, the standard is not likelihood of confusion but rather likelihood of dilution.  15 USC 1125(c).  That is, is it likely that the value of the mark will be diluted by unauthorized use, even if no one would be confused?  However, I don’t think there are any superheroes with a slogan or word of power that happens to be a famous mark, and they could still argue no likelihood of dilution and noncommercial use, especially if they didn’t make a big show out of yelling their words of power or slogans.

Note, though, that using a mark, especially a famous mark, might make it difficult for the superhero to sell merchandise, particularly depending on the nature of the merchandise and the areas the mark is used in.

Now for the second question: “Should he have copyrighted his secret word to protect if from this sort of situation?”  This one is much simpler.  Generally speaking individual words and short slogans can’t be copyrighted.  Captain Marvel could have trademarked it before the other folks did, but he’d need to use it in commerce in order to do so (e.g., sell comics, talking action figures, etc featuring the trademarked word).  And unless his slogan became a famous mark, he’d only be protected in those particular areas of use.  But since he’d probably be safe anyway, such defensive measures probably aren’t necessary in his case.

That’s it for this week.  Keep your questions coming in!

23 Comments

Posted in copyright, intellectual property, mailbag, trademark

Mailbag for April 8, 2011

Posted on April 8, 2011 by | 10 comments

This week we’re taking a look at reader questions about the legitimacy of certain kinds of punishment and whether doctors or veterinarians would be legally licensed to treat extraterrestrials.  As always, if you have questions or post suggestions, please send them to james@lawandthemultiverse.com and ryan@lawandthemultiverse.com or leave them in the comments.

I. Modification/Mutilation of Supervillains as Punishment

Joe asks about the punishment meted out to Sabbac, basically an evil version of Captain Marvel who, like his counterpart, could transform into a superbeing by uttering a word of power. When Sabbac was apprehended, he was sentenced to having his larynx removed to prevent him from speaking this word. Joe’s question is whether this would be a constitutional punishment, given the 8th Amendment prohibitions against “cruel and unusual punishment.”

The most obvious parallel is to chemical castration, where convicted sex offenders, usually pedophiles, are treated with what amounts to Depo Provera, a hormone drug usually used as a contraceptive. In women, that’s basically its only use, but in men, the drug generally results in a massively reduced sex-drive. Which, for pedophiles, is no bad thing.

About a dozen states use chemical castration in at least some cases, and there does not appear to have been a successful challenge on constitutional grounds. This may in part be due to the fact that a significant percentage of the offenders who are given the treatment volunteer for it, as it offers a way of controlling their urges. If the person being sentenced does not object, it’s hard to come up with standing. Either way, despite health and civil rights concerns, this appears to be a viable sentence in the US legal system.

Fair enough. But it should not be hard to see that physically and permanently removing someone’s ability to speak is not exactly the same as putting a reversible chemical damper on their sex drive. It’s entirely possible to live an otherwise normal life with a low sex drive, but being mute is a little harder both to deal with and to hide. So while the idea of physical modification to the human body is not unconstitutional on its face, it remains to be seen whether this degree of modification would be permitted. For example, while chemical castration appears to be constitutional, it’s pretty likely that physical castration would not be.  We can only say “pretty likely” because Buck v. Bell, a 1927 Supreme Court case that upheld (8 to 1!) a Virginia statute instituting compulsory sterilization of “mental defectives,” has never been expressly overturned, and tens of thousands of compulsory sterilizations occurred in the US after Buck, most recently in 1981.

On the other hand, Sabbac isn’t your run-of-the-mill offender here. He’s possessed by six demonic entities and capable of wreaking an immense amount of destruction. Part of the analysis in determining whether or not a punishment is “cruel and unusual” is whether or not the punishment is grossly disproportionate proportional to the severity of the crime.  Ewing v. California, 538 U.S. 11, 21 (2003).  This is, in part, why the Supreme Court has outlawed the death penalty for rape cases, i.e. if no one is dead, execution seems to be a disproportionate response. Coker v. Georgia, 433 U.S. 584 (1977).

The 8th Amendment also prohibits “the unnecessary and wanton infliction of pain,” including those “totally without penological justification.” Hope v. Pelzer, 536 U.S. 730, 737-38 (2002).  Here, though, there is a clear penological justification, namely the prevention of future crimes, and the laryngectomy could be carried out in a humane manner without the infliction of unnecessary pain.

There are other criteria by which a punishment is judged, including whether it accords with human dignity and whether it is shocking or violative of fundamental fairness, but in a case like this necessity goes a long way, especially because the purpose of the operation is not retributive punishment.

So then, if the only way to prevent Sabbac from assuming his demonic form is to render him mute, then it’s possible that the courts would go along with that, particularly if it proved impossible to contain him otherwise and the operation was carried out in a humane manner.

II. Medical Treatment for Aliens

Jona asks whether it would be more proper for an alien to seek treatment from a physician or a veterinarian. This question revolves around the extent of the license under which each profession operates. Like law, the medical professions are all fairly well regulated and require practitioners to be licensed by the state. This serves both to ensure that professionals are competent, but it also permits the state to keep at least minimal tabs on those professionals in the event one of them should do something bad. It also permits the state to prohibit a professional who has engaged in egregious misconduct or is otherwise unfit to practice from doing so. There’s a lot in this, and we’ll probably return to it for a full post down the road a ways, but here’s some preliminary thoughts.

The question here is which license would provide the authority to treat an extraterrestrial. Whether or not the alien is intelligent is not actually part of the analysis, because that isn’t how the MD and DVM licenses are distinguished. Physicians are licensed to treat homo sapiens, and veterinarians are licensed to treat pretty much everything else. So at first glance, it would seem that vets would be better positioned to treat aliens than physicians, particularly aliens of the non-rubber forehead variety.

This isn’t really a matter of competence mind you: both a physician and a vet would presumably be equally out of their depth if faced with truly alien biology, if only because neither would actually have any idea what’s going on in there. Even analogizing to known species’ physiology would be impossible without a significant amount of study, and depending on the circumstances under which treatment was necessary, there might not be time for that. So if, for example, aliens crash-land and injured survivors are located, time may well be of the essence. In that case, it would probably wind up being a measure of which kind of professional could be located first.

On the other hand, physicians have two things going for them that vets tend not to. First, military and government agencies (outside departments of agriculture) are more likely to have institutional ties with physicians than with vets, and such agencies are likely to be first on the scene.  Second, physicians work in hospitals, while vets work mostly in the field or in their own clinics. Most veterinary clinics don’t have anything resembling an ICU, as when it comes right down to it, animals aren’t really worth the expense. There aren’t many people who can afford to have their dog put on a ventilator, let alone livestock, the latter of which are raised for explicitly economic purposes. There’s just no odds in it. So as a matter of practice, physicians may well be more likely to be involved, licensing issues aside.

Ultimately, the question is probably moot. If we are operating under the assumption that this is an unexpected and potentially one-off occasion, licensing matters aren’t likely to even come up. They usually only do in malpractice situations, and most stories involving emergency treatment of extraterrestrials don’t seem to permit the aliens a sufficient degree of integration with human society to file lawsuits. And if aliens are that common and integrated, the medical professions would adapt to figure out which professions would wind up being licensed to treat them. Depending on their physiology, it could go either way.  There’s more to consider about this, though, so look forward to a follow-up post in the future.

That’s all for this week. Keep sending in your questions!

10 Comments

Posted in administrative law, constitutional law, mailbag

Mailbag for April 1, 2011

Posted on April 1, 2011 by | 9 comments

Today we have questions about sentient property and Asgard’s extraterritoriality.  As always, if you have questions or post suggestions, please send them to james@lawandthemultiverse.com and ryan@lawandthemultiverse.com or leave them in the comments.

I. Lost Sentient Property?

Both of today’s questions from Wusheng.  The first question is about Alan Scott (i.e. the first Green Lantern) and his ring: “The ring and lantern that Alan uses were carved from a meteor called the Starheart.  This meteor … was sentient.  As a result, the ring and energy within both it and the lantern, are sentient. … [H]ow does that affect the ‘lost property’ label that you gave it?”

This was partly addressed in the comments on the Lost and Found post that Wusheng referred to, but we wanted to take the opportunity to mention another possibility.  For intelligent artifacts that are not legally considered people (e.g. either because the courts don’t recognize non-human intelligences or because the artifact fails whatever test the courts set up), it is possible that a court could treat them as a kind of animal.  So we wondered how the lost property analysis changes if one views the ring as a lost animal (albeit one that doesn’t move around much).

As it turns out, there is a particular body of law dealing with lost or stray animals, which the law calls “estrays.”  (The initial e comes from the Old French estraier. This is a common pattern in old legal terms.  See, e.g., estoppel).

At common law estrays were generally defined as “a beast wandering, or without an owner; one wandering at large, or lost, or whose owner is unknown.”  Walters v. Glats, 29 Iowa 437, 439 (1870).  However, most states (including Iowa at the time of that decision) have specific statutes for estrays.  Importantly for superheroes, the reason the beast was wandering is unimportant: “it is plainly immaterial how the animal escaped from the owner,—whether by his voluntary act, by the act of a trespasser upon his premises, or by a thief.” Kinney v. Roe, 7o Iowa 509 (1886); see also State v. Miller, 41 N.M. 618 (1937).  Relatively recently the Vermont Supreme Court held that estray laws only apply to animals of considerable economic value and so do not apply to dogs.  Morgan v. Kroupa, 167 Vt. 99, 102-03 (1997).

The sentient ring and lantern would seem to fit this definition: they are plainly lost (albeit not wandering), the owner is unknown, and they definitely have considerable economic value.  The next question is, what rights are conferred on the finder of an estray?  The particulars vary from state to state, but the general framework is that the finder acquires a qualified property right that becomes an absolute right if the original owner doesn’t show up and claim the estray after a set time period.  Since the original owner never shows up, Scott would get a complete property right in the ring and lantern.

Since many states have enacted estray statutes rather than rely on the common law, a judge might not be able to apply the estray statute directly (that’s the problem the Vermont court ran into).  However, estray law provides a template or framework that courts can use to apply to things that sit in that “special place somewhere in between a person and a piece of personal property.” Corso v. Crawford Dog & Cat Hosp., Inc., 415 N.Y.S.2d 182, 183 (City Civ.Ct.1979).  So a court could use estray laws as the basis for handling sentient artifacts.

II. Extraterritoriality and the Asgardian Embassy

For his second question Wusheng writes about Thor moving Asgard to Oklahoma (Thor, vol. 3, #2-3).  “He started out just hovering it over farmland, but eventually bought out the farmland for a massively inflated price (he filled the back of the farmer’s truck with gold).  At this point, Iron Man tried to force Thor into declaring it to be under U.S. rule, but Thor knocked him around like a rag doll for a bit and Iron Man agreed to let it remain sovereign.

My question is, if we disregard the attempt by Iron Man to force it under U.S. rule, how would International Law handle something like this?  Or would Iron Man’s response (if heavy handed and more than a bit foolish) have been a more or less appropriate response?”

What the US granted Asgard was extraterritoriality.  As Iron Man explained in the comic, this is indeed a common feature of an embassy or other diplomatic mission.  The bigger issues here are Asgard’s size (i.e. just how much space is being ceded), whether Iron Man really had authority to negotiate on behalf of the US (we’ll assume he did for narrative convenience), and whether the US was willing to give territory to a foreign power that effectively just invaded the US (we’ll assume it was willing to do so because, c’mon, he’s the God of Thunder).

It’s not clear exactly how large Asgard is, but it looks to be at least several acres and perhaps as much as a square mile.  This would be exceptionally large for an extraterritorial space in the US.  The largest such space is the UN headquarters in New York, which sits on 17 acres (.026 square miles).  There are roughly 190 foreign embassies and 1200 foreign consulates in the US.  Assuming they all enjoy extraterritorial status (which is not actually the case) and occupy an average of one acre each (which is being very generous) that amounts to about 2.18 square miles.  So Asgard would likely be the largest extraterritorial space in the US and quite possibly the largest embassy in the world (the current record holder, the new US embassy in Iraq, sits on 104 acres or .16 square miles).

However, while that might be unusual for the US and for embassies, it is not unusual in other contexts.  For example, the US operates hundreds of military bases in dozens of foreign countries, some of which are quite large (e.g. Guantanamo Bay Naval Base is 45 square miles).  So it is not without precedent for a country to cede a large extraterritorial space to another country.  It would be unusual for the US to do so, but given that we’re talking about a God of Thunder here, the result seems reasonable and consistent with how international law treats embassies and similar extraterritorial spaces.

That’s all for this week!  Until next time, keep your questions and post suggestions coming in!

9 Comments

Posted in international law, mailbag, property law

Law and the Multiverse Mailbag XIII

Posted on March 25, 2011 by | 34 comments

Lots of good questions this week. Today we’re looking at two issues: extra-planetary jurisdiction and conscription of specific superpowered individuals.  As always, if you have questions or post suggestions, please send them to james@lawandthemultiverse.com and ryan@lawandthemultiverse.com or leave them in the comments.

I. Extra-planetary jurisdiction

Bob asks “Do the laws of a country apply in space?  Perhaps if they are on a NASA spaceship then the laws of the USA would apply.  But how about if a crime is committed on the Moon (and not in any country’s Moon-base)?”

As mentioned in our interview earlier this week, Earth-bound legal systems don’t normally extend beyond the Earth’s atmosphere. Indeed, individual nations’ legal systems don’t extend much beyond their borders, but we’ve already got a terrestrial example: the high seas.

Oceans outside the territorial claims of any particular country are already pretty lawless. The UN Convention on the Law of the Sea has been ratified or at least signed by almost every country, but apart from addressing piracy it is mostly concerned with mundane issues like establishing territorial boundaries and exclusive economic zones. Admiralty law is a little more detailed (and one of the oldest continuously operating bodies of law in the world) but even that has mostly to do with the conduct of vessels, salvage rights, etc.

But even there, national courts are widely held to be able to exert jurisdiction over persons for actions they commit while at sea once the person is brought to shore. One of the most famous cases in every law student’s criminal law class is R. v. Dudley & Stephens, about some sailors who cannibalize the cabin boy. The defendants were brought to trial and convicted once they returned to their native country, and jurisdiction was not one of the real issues. But if they had been rescued by, say, an American ship, it’s possible they could have been brought to trial in an American court. Crimes committed on the high seas can generally be tried everywhere, e.g. Somalian pirates are being tried in New York City. The theory is that crimes committed outside national boundaries are, in a sense, crimes against civilization, and thus may be tried anywhere. The controversial doctrine of universal jurisdiction has some of its origins in this concept.

There is a limit here: the acts in question need to be obviously criminal by anyone’s standards. Murder is a pretty easy example. So is piracy. But what about things that are only illegal by statute, like gambling? Well the ferry that runs between Maine and Nova Scotia passes through international waters, and the on-board casino is only open when outside both the US and Canada’s territorial waters. There really hasn’t been all that much law here, but it’s unlikely that any given nation would be able to enforce its particular regulatory regime on the high seas over anything but a ship registered under that nation’s flag.

Outer space is quite similar. There is, in fact, a statute which extends federal jurisdiction to spacecraft flying the US flag (18 U.S.C. § 7(6)), which also discusses maritime jurisdiction with similar results. State laws do not apply, but federal laws do. But again, note that enforcement would require bringing a defendant back to US soil for trial, just like it would for crime on the high seas.

The same statute, specifically subsection 7, also grants US jurisdiction over “any place outside the jurisdiction of any nation with respect to an offense by or against a national of the United States.”  This is kind of a catch-all clause.  If no one else has jurisdiction and a US national is either the suspect or the victim, then the US has jurisdiction.  So if a supervillain commits a federal crime against an American superhero on, say, Mars, then the supervillain can be hauled into federal court once he or she is brought back to Earth.

II. Conscription

Samuel asks “Given that an American superhero like Superman can be a tremendously valuable military asset, as both a frontline combat supersoldier and as a propaganda tool, is there any legal basis for the U.S. government to conscript Superman, specifically, into the Armed Forces?  What about drafting all superheroes in general?  Is there any legal way for Superman and other superheroes to ‘dodge the draft’?”

The law here is less clear than it is for law in outer space, only because it does not appear that the government has ever tried to draft a specific individual outside a wider draft program. As far as draft programs go, the courts have been exceptionally deferential to congressional power. The Supreme Court has held that “The constitutionality of the conscription of manpower for military service is beyond question. The constitutional power of Congress to support the armed forces with equipment and supplies is no less clear and sweeping.” Lichter v. United States, 344 U.S. 742 (1948).  As John Quincy Adams said in a speech before the House of Representatives, “[The war power] is tremendous; it is strictly constitutional; but it breaks down every barrier so anxiously erected for the protection of liberty, property and of life.”

More recently, the D.C. Circuit has held that “the power of Congress to raise armies by conscription is not limited by either the Thirteenth Amendment or the absence of a military emergency.” United States v. Chandler, 403 F.2d 531 (D.C. Cir. 1968). The Thirteenth Amendment, prohibiting involuntary servitude, is perhaps the most obvious potential constitutional issue with the draft, and the federal courts have unanimously and consistently held that it does not limit the draft power at all.

Similarly the federal courts have held that the First Amendment is no barrier to the draft.  Conscientious objector status is the product of statute, not the Constitution.  “The conscientious objector is relieved from the obligation to bear arms in obedience to no constitutional provision, express or implied; but because, and only because, it has accorded with the policy of Congress thus to relieve him.”  United States v. Macintosh, 283 U.S. 605, 623 (1931).  If Congress wanted to, it could conscript everyone, regardless of any religious or moral objection.  It’s unlikely it would do so, given that it would likely lead to civil disobedience, but it’s a theoretical possibility.  In the same case the Court lists a whole host of constitutional rights that may be superseded by the war power, culminating in “other drastic powers, wholly inadmissible in time of peace, exercised to meet the emergencies of war.”

However, this is still an untested area of law, because as far as we can tell Congress hasn’t actually tried to do this, there being no compelling reason to use the draft power this way. The only times a draft has been imposed have been in times of incredible demand for manpower—it is a pretty drastic step, after all—so going after a handful of specific individuals wouldn’t make sense in the real world. But if the draft of specific individuals or classes of individuals is to be attacked, it would have to be on some kind of due process argument, i.e. Congress can draft everyone in a certain age group, but it can’t draft specific people.

Should Congress go after a regular guy this way, the courts might be persuaded to intervene, but if the target is a superhero? It may well be that the courts would permit such an action, as the draft power is pretty sweeping, and the courts have not really displayed any willingness to limit that power before. If Congress thinks it needs the assistance of a uniquely capable citizen to fight a war, then that may well be something Congress is allowed to do.

III. Conclusion

Law in outer space would probably work pretty similarly to law on the high seas: a particular nation’s courts could probably enforce basic laws against things like murder, but only once the defendant was brought to Earth. And Congress may well be able to draft the services of specific people, particularly if there’s a reason for their unique services to be used.

Thanks for reading. There’ll be more next week!

34 Comments

Posted in constitutional law, criminal procedure, mailbag

Law and the Multiverse Mailbag XII

Posted on March 18, 2011 by | 18 comments

Today we have a question about a supervillain-worthy plot from the movie Swordfish.  As always, if you have questions or post suggestions, please send them to james@lawandthemultiverse.com and ryan@lawandthemultiverse.com or leave them in the comments.

NB: If you haven’t seen the movie, the question and answer technically include spoilers, but they’re from the opening scene.

Alan writes “In the film Swordfish, the villain Gabriel Shear has an elaborate plan involving hacking a bank’s computer while holding hostages.  He wires these hostages with explosives rigged to a sensor which will detonate them if they leave the bank, and he explains this to the authorities.  However, SWAT members still grab one of the hostages and drag her away from the bank, against her will, and she explodes, presumably dying in the process and killing several SWAT team members. … Is Gabriel Shear liable for murdering the woman, or the SWAT team members? (Would this be ‘felony murder’?)  Would the woman’s relatives have a civil claim against the police?  Does the fact that she was unwilling to go with the officers affect these considerations?”

There are basically two issues here: Shear’s liability and police liability.  Since this scene is set in L.A., we’ll use California law.

I. Shear’s Liability

In California, murder is described in Cal. Penal Code § 187-89.  Immediately we see two potentially applicable kinds of first degree murder: murder by explosives and felony murder.  The felony murder rule may apply because the murder was committed in the perpetration of, amongst other things, the kidnapping of the hostages.  The question is: is Shear liable for the murder given that he didn’t ‘pull the trigger,’ so to speak?  Intuitively the answer seems like it should be yes, but let’s work through the analysis.

A. First Degree Murder by Explosives

This is the most straightforward charge: Shear murdered the victim with explosives.  But there are at least two potential sticking points: cause and intent.

i. Causation

An essential element of murder is that the defendant must cause the victim’s death, and Shear’s actions were at least one step removed from the victim’s death.  It was the SWAT team member pulling the victim out of range that was the immediate cause of death.  Does that get Shear off the hook?

As it turns out, probably not.  A defendant can also be responsible for a death if he “sets in motion a chain of events that produces as a direct, natural and probable consequence of the [act] [or] omission the death in question and without which the death would not occur.”  People v. Fiu, 165 Cal.App.4th 360, 369 (Cal. Ct. App. 2008) (emphasis in original).  The prosecution would argue that a direct, natural, and probable consequence of fitting hostages with explosive collars designed to kill people is that someone will, in fact, get killed.

Now, the defense might argue that the SWAT team member’s intervention broke the chain of causation, but it takes a lot to break the chain: “To relieve a defendant of criminal liability, an intervening cause must be an unforeseeable and extraordinary occurrence.  The defendant remains criminally liable if either the possible consequence might reasonably have been contemplated or the defendant should have foreseen the possibility of harm of the kind that could result from his act.”  Fiu, 165 Cal.App.4th at 371.

Here, it’s pretty clear that Shear in fact contemplated and foresaw the possibility of a hostage being harmed by police intervention in precisely this way.  That’s why he warned the police about the collars.  It’s no defense that the police tried to intervene anyway.  Indeed, as Justice Cardozo said in the context of torts, “Danger invites rescue….The wrongdoer may not have foreseen the coming of a deliverer. He is accountable as if he had.”  Wagner v. Int’l Ry., 232 N.Y. 176, 180 (1926) (by the way, the Wagner case justifies a tort claim against Shear by the deceased police officer’s heirs; superheroes could make the same claim against supervillains if they are injured while trying to rescue the supervillains’ victims).

ii. Intent

Another potential issue with a straightforward murder charge is that arguably Shear did not intend to kill anyone.  Indeed, he specifically instructed the police regarding the explosives, which suggests he wanted a clean getaway.  In California the intent required for murder (‘malice aforethought’) may be express or implied.  Cal. Penal Code § 188.  According to the California Supreme Court, “Malice is implied when: The killing resulted from an intentional act, 2. The natural consequences of the act are dangerous to human life, and 3. The act was deliberately performed with knowledge of the danger to, and with conscious disregard for, human life.”  People v. Dellinger, 49 Cal.3d 1212, 1222 (1989) (en banc).  Here, Shear intentionally caused the killing (per the above), the natural consequences of putting explosive collars on people are pretty obviously dangerous to human life, and Shear clearly was aware of the danger to human life and deliberately acted with conscious disregard of it.  So the intent requirement appears to be met.

But suppose a court disagreed and found that causation, intent, or both were absent.  Could another approach fit, perhaps the felony murder rule?

B. Felony Murder

The California felony murder rule is limited to killings committed in the perpetration of, or attempt to perpetrate various specific violent crimes listed in the statute.  Let’s assume that Shear and his conspirators committed at least one of those other crimes (most likely kidnapping).  Would the felony murder rule help us out here if regular murder were unavailable?  The answer is “probably not.”

The purpose of the felony murder rule is two-fold.  First, to upgrade what would be manslaughter or second degree murder to first degree murder.  Second, to impose liability on every participant in a felony.  If Shear isn’t guilty of first degree murder because he didn’t cause the hostage’s death or intend to harm the hostage, then he’s likely not guilty of second degree murder or manslaughter either.  So felony murder won’t work for the first purpose.  And since the SWAT team member that was the most direct cause of the hostage’s death wasn’t a participant in the underlying felony, felony murder won’t work for the second purpose.

This seems like an unsatisfying result, but as it turns out the California courts have plugged this hole.  The fix actually takes us back around to regular murder by way of the “provocative act” doctrine.

C. Provocative Act

Under the provocative act doctrine, “When the defendant … with a conscious disregard for life, intentionally commits an act that is likely to cause death, and … a police officer kills in reasonable response to such act, the defendant is guilty of murder. In such a case, the killing is attributable, not merely to the commission of a felony, but to the intentional act of the defendant or his accomplice committed with conscious disregard for life.  Thus, … the police officer’s killing in the performance of his duty cannot be considered an independent intervening cause for which the defendant is not liable, for it is a reasonable response to the dilemma thrust upon the victim or the policeman by the intentional act of the defendant.”  People v. Gilbert, 63 Cal.2d 690, 704-05 (1965).

In fact, the courts have specifically found provocative act liability in cases where hostages have been taken, used as shields, and then accidentally killed by a would-be rescuer.  Pizano v. Superior Court, 21 Cal.3d 128 (1978) (en banc).  In Pizano the court noted “Taking [the victim] as a hostage, pointing a pistol at him, stating he would be shot if the police intervened, and then using him as a shield provided a more than sufficient basis for an inference of malice. Indeed, it has been argued that malice is express in such cases on the ground that using the victim as a shield is a direct and deliberate creation of immediate lethal danger to the deceased and to him alone.”  Pizano, 21 Cal.3d at 136.

So we think we can safely conclude that Shear is guilty of murder, even in the unlikely event that the straightforward murder charge didn’t apply and he escaped the felony murder rule.  But Shear’s criminal liability does not necessarily excuse the government of any tort liability for the victim’s death.

II. Police Liability

In California, police officers and their employers generally enjoy absolute immunity from tort liability for their discretionary acts, even if they abuse that discretion.  Cal. Gov. Code §§ 820.2, 815.2.  However, if the police officer exercises discretion and chooses to act, then he or she (or his or her employer) may be liable for his or her negligent performance.  McCorkle v. City of Los Angeles, 70 Cal.2d 252, 260-61 (1969).  As we’ve discussed on the blog before, however, police officers have no general duty to rescue anyone, and this is true in California as well.  Camp v. State, 184 Cal.App.4th 967, 975 (Cal. Ct. App. 2010) (noting “A police officer … is as much entitled to the benefit of this general rule as anyone else.”).  “Liability may, however, be imposed … if an officer undertakes affirmative acts that increase the risk of harm to the plaintiff.”  Id.  A special relationship, and therefore a duty to rescue, has been found in cases where a police officer “placed a citizen in harm’s way.”  Id at 977.

I’m not sure if the police officer knew about the explosive collar.  It’s been a while since I saw the (admittedly not very good) movie, but from a review of the script I don’t think the officer knew about it.  Regardless, trying to drag a hostage away from a well-armed and clearly dangerous group of bank robbers would pretty clearly increase the risk of harm to the hostage even without the explosive collar.  It seems at least as dangerous as what the officer did in the McCorkle case, which was to direct the plaintiff to walk into a dangerous intersection.  But is it enough?  Alas, probably not.

It is not enough that a police officer’s actions increased the risk of a pre-existing harm (e.g. that the collar would explode); the officer’s actions must change the risk or introduce a new risk.  Adams v. City of Fremont, 68 Cal.App.4th 243, 284 (Cal. Ct. App. 1998).  Furthermore, “law enforcement officers are shielded from ordinary negligence claims based on their response to public safety emergencies when those efforts prove to be ineffective in preventing self-inflicted harm or harm caused by third parties.”  Munoz v. City of Union City, 120 Cal.App.4th 1077, 1097 (Cal. Ct. App. 2004).

Here, the officer’s actions increased the pre-existing risk that the collar would explode, but he did not create a new risk by, for example, opening fire on the bank.  And of course the fairly blanket public safety emergency exemption described in Munoz applies anyway, since the harm was caused by a third party.  It’s generally pretty difficult to sue a government for incompetent police work, and this case is no exception.

III. Conclusion

One way or another, Shear is guilty of murder, likely first degree murder, as well as a host of other crimes.  The police officer and the government, however, are likely not liable for the hostage’s death.  Theoretically Shear is liable for the deaths of both the hostage and any police officers, but (spoiler alert!) since he manages to get away with billions in the end, that’s cold comfort for the victims’ families.  That’s what life insurance is for, we guess.

That’s all this week!  Keep your questions and post suggestions coming!

18 Comments

Posted in criminal law, mailbag, torts

Law and the Multiverse Mailbag XI

Posted on March 11, 2011 by | 19 comments

This week we have a question about No Ordinary Family and reckless endangerment.  As always, if you have questions or post suggestions, please send them to james@lawandthemultiverse.com and ryan@lawandthemultiverse.com or leave them in the comments.

James asks “The ABC show No Ordinary Family aired a recent episode where the character Jim, who is invulnerable, deflects a bullet which ricochets off of a number of metal objects and winds up striking a teen bystander. … Jim feels responsible for what happens to the young man, especially in that he chose to confront the man whom he knew was armed.  How much responsibility would he truly bear? Does he have a duty to take this fight into a secluded area (which he did – the bystander was inside a nearby building)? Could he be charged with reckless endangerment, even though he didn’t know the boy was there, since he does seem to be showing off in front of the criminal?”

Although No Ordinary Family isn’t based on a comic book, it does feature a lot of superhero comic book tropes and—most importantly for us—it’s set in a world that shares our legal system.  This particular question is also interesting because it’s the kind of collateral damage that shows up in many comics.

So is Jim guilty of anything here?  Or perhaps liable in tort for the teenager’s injuries?  The first question we have to ask is “what law applies?”  When talking about Gotham or Metropolis there’s not always a definite answer for that, but in this case we know the show is set in a fictional town in California, so we’ll apply California law.  First, the criminal law.

I. Was It a Crime?

As it turns out, like many states California does not have a general offense of reckless endangerment.  California does have reckless endangerment-like laws regarding the discharge of firearms, but those don’t apply here since Jim wasn’t the one pulling the trigger.  But maybe a different offense fits.  Let’s consider the most generic one: simple battery, which is defined in Cal. Penal Code § 242 as “any willful and unlawful use of force or violence upon the person of another.”

As you can probably guess, the analysis here depends on what exactly “willful” means.  In California, the mental state or intent required for battery is the same as for assault because an assault is simply an attempted battery.  People v. Hayes, 142 Cal.App.4th 175, 180 (Cal. Ct. App. 2006).  “Assault does not require a specific intent to cause injury or a subjective awareness of the risk that an injury might occur. Rather, assault only requires an intentional act and actual knowledge of those facts sufficient to establish that the act by its nature will probably and directly result in the application of physical force against another.”  People v. Williams, 26 Cal.4th 779, 790 (2001).  Since Jim did not know that the bystander was there and since ricochets are highly unpredictable, Jim couldn’t have known that his actions would “probably and directly result in the application of physical force against another.”  So we don’t think Jim committed a crime in this case.

II. Was It a Tort?

If Jim isn’t criminally liable, what about a tort suit by the victim?  Here we can turn to the law of negligence.  In California the elements of negligence are a legal duty of due care and a breach of that duty that is the proximate (i.e. legally responsible) cause of the resulting injury.  This is also known as “duty, breach, causation, and damages.”  Conroy v. Regents, 45 Cal.4th 1244, 1250 (2009).  Here the damages are clear (the dude got shot), so let’s consider the first three elements.

A. Duty

As a general rule in California, everyone has a duty to use ordinary care to avoid injuring others.  Cal. Civ. Code § 1714(a).  However, this only extends to injuries that were reasonably foreseeable to the defendant at the time.  Dillon v. Legg, 68 Cal.2d 728, 739 (1968).  The analysis, however, is generalized to “whether the category of negligent conduct at issue is sufficiently likely to result in the kind of harm experienced that liability may appropriately be imposed on the negligent party.” Lawson v. Safeway Inc., 191 Cal.App.4th 400, 409 (Cal. Ct. App. 2010).  “Sufficiently likely” means “likely enough in the setting of modern life that a reasonably thoughtful [person] would take account of it in guiding practical conduct.”  Friedman v. Merck & Co., 107 Cal.App.4th 454, 466 (Cal. Ct. App. 2003).

So would a reasonably thoughtful person take into account the possibility of ricocheting bullets striking an unknown person?  Certainly many superheroes are concerned with the possibility of their actions harming bystanders (including bystanders that may not be readily apparent), and many go out of their way to avoid or prevent such harm.  On the other hand, ricochets are unpredictable, and we’re not sure the reasonably thoughtful person would spend much time contemplating physics while getting shot at.  We could see a court going either way with this, but let’s assume the court says there’s a duty here so we can continue the analysis.

B. Breach

In general, a duty has been breached when the defendant has displayed less than ordinary, reasonable care or prudence.  See Mosley v. Arden Farms Co., 26 Cal.2d 213 (1945).  So how do we judge that?  California, like many states, follows the Learned Hand formula of negligence, named for the famous Judge Learned Hand.  Crane v. Smith, 23 Cal.2d 288, 298-99 (1943).  Basically, you multiply the likelihood of the harm by the magnitude of the harm, then compare the result to the cost of preventing the harm.  If the cost to prevent the harm is less than the average cost of the harm, then not preventing it is unreasonable.  In other words, spending a $1 to prevent $2 worth of harm is reasonable, but spending $2 to prevent $1 worth of harm is not.  It’s a kind of reductive view of rationality, but the law is like that sometimes.

In this case it’s hard to put a number to either the harm or the cost.  Instead, we can simply consider the circumstances and ask what a normal person would do if someone pointed a gun at their face.  Most normal people would do exactly what Jim did: throw a hand up in a—for most people futile—effort at self-defense.   And the ricochet might have occurred even if it had been an ordinary person; bullets can ricochet off of rings, watches, and even bones.

In fact, it was actually self-defense in Jim’s case, since a high-powered bullet fired at close range is capable of hurting him, so he tends to deflect bullets with his hands rather than his face.  Since an ordinary person would probably have done exactly what Jim did under the circumstances, we don’t think there was a breach of duty here.  There’s no negligence without a breach, and so Jim wouldn’t be liable and the analysis ends there.  Thus, we don’t actually have to consider causation (although if people are interested we think there’s a sort of flimsy argument to be made there as well).

(NB: The fact that it was a lawful act of self-defense is not itself a defense to negligence.  “No purpose, however benevolent, excuses negligence.”  Woodhead v. Wilkinson, 181 Cal. 599, 602 (1919).  What matters is that an ordinary person would have done the same thing under the circumstances.)

III. Conclusion

We don’t think Jim is criminally or civilly liable for the victim’s injury.  By contrast, the attacker is at a minimum guilty of attempted murder (of Jim) and grossly negligent discharge of a weapon.  He would also be liable in tort.

That’s all for this week!  Keep your questions and post suggestions coming in!

19 Comments

Posted in criminal law, mailbag, torts

Law and the Multiverse Mailbag X

Posted on March 4, 2011 by | 6 comments

In today’s mailbag we have questions about ‘Batman, Prosecuting Attorney’ and supervillain jury tampering.  As always, if you have questions or post suggestions, please send them to james@lawandthemultiverse.com and ryan@lawandthemultiverse.com or leave them in the comments.

I. Batman, Prosecuting Attorney?

Christopher writes with two questions.  First: “I was watching the 60’s Batman episode ‘The Joke’s on Catwoman.’ … Batman captures the Joker, Catwoman, and her henchmen. Presumably he arrests them, as he seems to act as a law enforcement officer in this show. Then he acts as prosecutor at their trial (no doubt he is a member of the bar). Seems pretty strange, but is this actually allowed? I started wondering whether the sheriff in a Wild West town might do this if there were no one else around to prosecute the case.”

There are three main problems with this arrangement.  First off, it’s pretty unlikely that Batman is an admitted member of the bar because he would have to be admitted as Batman, not Bruce Wayne lest he give away his secret identity. While attending law school is not a necessary prerequisite of becoming an attorney in some states (actually, quite a few states didn’t require this in the 1960s), it is doubtful that Batman found the time to “read law,” i.e. work as an apprentice in a law firm for a few years before taking the bar exam.  While a frontier town might have employed a non-lawyer as a prosecutor out of necessity, the frontier era also preceded the relatively modern era of professionalization and standardization in legal education and licensing.  And the exigent circumstances of a frontier town hardly apply to Gotham City.

Further evidence that Batman wasn’t admitted is found in his questionable conduct of the trial (e.g. asking witnesses to testify regarding ultimate issues of guilt).  Of course, the defense attorney didn’t object, and some judges are happy to let such things slide if there’s no objection, so we won’t go into detail on that except to say that, were they found guilty, the defendants might have an ineffective assistance of counsel argument on appeal.  Normally such arguments are long shots, but this was pretty bad.

Second, Batman would be unable to serve as prosecutor because generally an attorney cannot be an advocate in the same case in which he or she is likely to be a necessary witness.  Since the defense could call Batman as a witness even if the prosecution did not, this is a problem.  ABA Model Rule 3.7, which has been adopted in almost every state, provides:

(a) A lawyer shall not act as advocate at a trial in which the lawyer is likely to be a necessary witness unless:

(1) the testimony relates to an uncontested issue;

…

(3) disqualification of the lawyer would work substantial hardship on the client.

Presumably the defendants would contest the issues that Batman’s testimony relates to, so exception (1) is out.  And I have a hard time believing that the government couldn’t come up with a competent substitute prosecutor, so there goes exception (3).  The second exception, which deals with testifying about the value of legal services, is inapplicable here.

(For the pedants in the audience: the episode long predates the Model Rules and even the predecessor Model Code, but a rule against lawyer-witnesses was a part of the ABA Canons of Professional Ethics, which dates to 1908.  The result under the Canons would have been much the same.)

Third, Batman could have been disqualified because of his clear conflict of interest in the case.  There is a “broader consideration of whether on the facts of a particular case, the adversarial nature of the judicial process has resulted in such enmity toward the defendant on the part of the prosecutor that it will overbear his professional judgment in seeking fairly and impartially to see justice done.”  Powell v. Commonwealth, 267 Va. 107 (2004).  Batman’s long and acrimonious history with the Joker and Catwoman likely rises to that level.

Thus we can fairly safely conclude that Batman should not have acted as prosecutor, and in fact the defense attorney could have successfully challenged Batman’s appointment for cause.  That he didn’t shouldn’t be too surprising, however, since he knew the case was a lock because he tampered with the jury, which brings us to the second question.

II. Supervillain Jury Tampering

Christopher also asks “At the end of the trial, it is absolutely obvious to the judge and everyone else that the defendants have been proven guilty, but the jury returns a verdict of not guilty, leading everyone to suspect the jury has somehow been tampered with. The judge can’t do anything but make a statement upbraiding the jury for their outrageous behavior. What would actually be done at this point? Later, it is discovered that the defendants managed to infiltrate the jury with accomplices. What would the law do at that point?”

Here the law is pretty clear.  “A judgment of acquittal, whether based on a jury verdict of not guilty or on a ruling by the court that the evidence is insufficient to convict, may not be appealed and terminates the prosecution when a second trial would be necessitated by a reversal.”  United States v. Scott, 437 U.S. 82, 91 (1978).  This is a core part of the prohibition against double jeopardy, and it is an absolute bar, even if the jury was clearly acting contrary to the law and the facts.

So what’s to be done in a case like this?  The answer is that the State (as represented by Batman) had a full opportunity to challenge potential members of the jury during voir dire (i.e. jury selection).  The prosecution could even have moved for a mistrial when the jury refused to retire for deliberation; that should have been a sure sign something was up.  But if the State falls down on its job and a guilty defendant goes free, them’s the breaks.  The Constitution does not allow the State to try again until it gets it right.

All is not lost, however.  The jurors are probably guilty of perjury or the like, since during voir dire they were almost certainly asked if they knew any of the defendants.  So the jurors at least could be punished for their part in the scheme.

As for the defendants, as is so often the case their own foolishness lead to their downfall.  After Batman tried to move for a new trial they started a courtroom brawl and were recaptured, so they would at least face charges of assault and probably conspiracy to commit murder (the jury foreman pulled a gun on Batman at Catwoman’s order).  But if they had stayed quiet they would’ve gotten away it.  Maybe they should have gotten a better attorney than “Lucky” Pierre.

Note that this is not the case in civil trials. The right against double jeopardy only applies in the criminal context; judges routinely order new trials in civil matters when there has been some uncorrectable foul-up. They don’t like doing it, because it’s viewed as a waste of time and resources by just about everyone, but they will do it if necessary. In addition, judges are not so strictly bound to jury verdicts in civil cases and are entirely capable of entering judgment notwithstanding the verdict, known as a “JNOV” if the jury refuses to return a verdict consistent with the evidence. So just because the Joker could have objected to the above trial doesn’t mean he couldn’t be sued on civil charges, and as new trials are possible in civil cases, jury tampering isn’t nearly as effective a device as it is in criminal cases.

Bonus: One of the charges against the defendants was “mayhem.”  Mayhem is a felony descended from the common law, and a typical modern definition is “unlawfully and maliciously depriving a human being of a member of his body, or disabling, disfiguring, or rendering it useless, or cutting or disabling the tongue, or putting out an eye, or slitting the nose, ear, or lip.”  Cal. Pen. Code § 203.  A bit gruesome for an Adam West Batman villain!

That’s all for today!  Keep your questions and ideas coming in!

6 Comments

Posted in constitutional law, criminal procedure, mailbag

Law and the Multiverse Mailbag IX

Posted on February 27, 2011 by | 42 comments

In today’s mailbag we have a question about Superman, diamonds, and taxes.  As always, if you have questions or post suggestions, please send them to james@lawandthemultiverse.com and ryan@lawandthemultiverse.com or leave them in the comments.

Martin asks “if Superman crushes carbon and makes diamonds, is that taxable income?  I would think if he made it into a ring and gave it to Lois the government might want a percentage.”

There are two questions here.  First, are the diamonds taxable income for Superman (or Clark Kent) and second, are they taxable income for a recipient such as Lois Lane?

The answer to the first question is “probably not.”  A traditional, almost fundamental principle of income tax is that a gain in value must be realized before it can be taxed, although the definition of “realized” has expanded over the years, somewhat eroding the principle.  The Internal Revenue Code provides that one example of income is “gains derived from dealings in property.” 26 USC 61(a)(3).  ‘Dealings’ are not defined in the statute, but § 1001(a) defines the computation of “the gain from the sale or other disposition of property.”  It seems clear that improving the value of the carbon is not such a taxable event, since there is neither a sale nor disposition of the property of any kind.  An analogy might be made to a painting that appreciates in value; the increase in value is not taxed until the painting is sold, given away, etc.

If the diamonds are given to Lois Lane, however, that is obviously a gift, which has its own set of special rules.  In the US, gifts are generally not taxable income for the recipient.  26 USC 102(a).  But there is a gift tax that is ordinarily paid by the giver.  26 USC 2501(a)(1) and 26 USC 2502(c).  However, there is a significant exclusion for gifts that currently stands at $13,000 per-recipient per-year.  Thus the question is, presuming the diamonds were given as a gift today, would they exceed the exclusion?

Obviously this depends on the size and quality of the diamond and the state of the diamond market, but for example the diamond given to Lana Lang in Superman III appears to be about 3.5 to 4 carats and of very good quality.  Looking at stones for sale on Blue Nile, a similar diamond would cost somewhere between $150,000 and $400,000, depending on the particulars, which is far beyond the gift exclusion.  So how much would Superman be on the hook for?  The answer is “a lot.”  For example, if the ring were valued between $150,000 and $250,000, then the gift tax would be $38,800 plus 32% of the excess beyond $150,000, so potentially as much as $70,800.

But is the fair market value of the diamond simply that of an ordinary diamond of like size and quality?   The general rule for computing the value of gift of property is given in 26 C.F.R. § 25.2512-1: “The value of the property is the price at which such property would change hands between a willing buyer and a willing seller, neither being under any compulsion to buy or to sell, and both having reasonable knowledge of relevant facts.”  The unusual origin of the diamond is almost certainly a relevant fact, and if diamonds created by Superman are rare, which seems to be the case, then this particular diamond would command a significant premium, and the tax would be correspondingly higher.

This is a problem, since Clark Kent probably doesn’t make enough money to pay the tax, and Superman probably doesn’t want to get tangled up with the IRS.  It is possible to perform a “net gift” for which the recipient pays the tax, but it is unlikely that Lana has the money for that either.  She could sell the ring to pay the tax, of course, but that would defeat the purpose of the gift.  Alternatively, Superman could give her several diamonds with the intention that she keep one as a ring and sell the others to pay the taxes on all of the diamonds.  As complicated as that would be, it might be the only way to keep things above-board.

Note: No discussion of gift tax is complete without mentioning the unified credit of 26 USC 2505. It may not solve the problem here, however.  First, the value of the diamond may easily exceed the credit, especially if Superman gives them out on a regular basis.  Second, Superman may have made other gifts that already used up the credit; he has certainly been around long enough to have done so.

That’s all for this week!  Keep your questions coming in!

42 Comments

Posted in mailbag, tax law

Law and the Multiverse Mailbag VIII

Posted on February 18, 2011 by | 9 comments

We’ve got some great issues for the mailbag this week, including immortality and copyright and Bizarro, court translators, and competency.  As always, if you have questions or post suggestions, please send them to james@lawandthemultiverse.com and ryan@lawandthemultiverse.com or leave them in the comments.

Continue reading →

9 Comments

Posted in copyright, criminal procedure, intellectual property, mailbag

Law and the Multiverse Mailbag VII

Posted on February 11, 2011 by | 17 comments

Today we have questions about supervillain gadgets and imposing unwanted powers on people.  As always, if you have questions or post suggestions, please send them to james@lawandthemultiverse.com and ryan@lawandthemultiverse.com or leave them in the comments.

Continue reading →

17 Comments

Posted in criminal law, mailbag, torts