My goodness. Check out the impressive array of law school outlines and other law school and bar exam resources being amassed at Docstoc. Aside from being incredibly useful, my favorite thing about this service is its built in Creative Commons licensing. A perfect place to share form legal (and other) documents — as Marc Canter discussed wishing to do on a recentepisode of The Gang.
There were lots of reactions to my last post about Build-A-Bear luring kids and parents into divulging personal information they might otherwise, in other contexts, guard more closely. While some responses channeled Scott McNealy, most seemed to get that my beef was not with the fact of the data collection, or the uses set forth in Build-A-Bear’s privacy policy, but with doing it in what amounts to a wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing manner. Here’s a sampling of the subsequent discussion:
Skippy dot net reacted similarly to his in-store experience at Build-A-Bear.
Andrew at Changing Way quipped that "the Bear can be more seductive than the Beacon."
Curmudgeon-in-Training pointed out that "kids, and parents, are getting numb to this disclosure of very personal info for the most mundane of reasons."
Izzy Neis (who blogs about "Online Communities, Entertainment, Kid Empowerment, and Media Safety") worried that "people forget about the kind of information they share about their kids."
And Security Hitman observed that "corporations are setting an early expectation with young children that giving out personally information is okay. "
The good news is that shortly after posting my piece I heard from Dave Finnegan, Build-A-Bear’s "Chief InBearmation Officer." Kitschy executive designations aside, you’ve got to be impressed by a company that responds so quickly, directly, and receptively to criticism; I am, anyway. Dave had no problem with my posting our email exchange in its entirety, and you’ll find it after the jump. The upshot is I gave him several suggestions as to how I thought the situation could be improved, and he told me they "will definitely take [my] suggestions to heart," and "will review this information with [their] privacy committee." So, the company gets big points in my book for listening and responding to the conversation, and will earn bigger points still if the next time a birthday party brings me Build-A-Bear’s way, I join my son at the in-store kiosks and see my suggestions have been implemented. I’ll certainly let you know if that happens.
Yesterday I had my first experience at a Build-A-Bear Workshop store. Build-A-Bear, if you’re not familiar with it, is a publicly traded company headquartered in St. Louis, MO, with some 350 retail outlets worldwide. It’s irresistible to boys and girls alike, if the birthday party we attended was any indication. Kids can choose one of over 30 different styles of animal, stuff it onsite using big yellow machines filled with flying fluff, carefully add a small heart to bring the animal “to life,” and customize to their heart’s content (and their parents’ wallets’ horror) from a stupefying collection of sounds, clothes, shoes, and accessories that include miniature skateboards and MP3 players.
All good, clean — if decidedly consumer-culture focused, and potentially bank-breaking — fun. Until you get to the last step in the process, which had me nostalgic for (egad) the Cabbage Patch Kids. Who as I recall were discharged from their mythical birthplace without asking for their new owner’s home address.
You see, each Build-A-Bear critter is issued a “birth certificate,” which is generated after the kids — and hopefully their parents, though that didn’t seem to be making a bit of difference on the common sense front — visit a bank of computers. These are big orangey-purple affairs, sort of Dr. Seussian in presentation. The keyboard buttons include stars and other colored shapes to make data input all the easier and more intuitive for youngsters. In fact, the computer-plus-keyboard experience is very close (no doubt intentionally so) to something children and their parents might have experienced in a kids’ museum, library, or school. Before their new friend can get its birth certificate, the kids are prompted to enter a host of very personal personal information: birth date, home address, gender, phone, and email among them. Along the way is the option to “skip” some of this input, but unlike what we’re used to in the world of online retail forms, there’s no effort to communicate what data is “required” for the transaction to proceed, and what’s “optional.” The overall effect is to sideline the privacy-savviness that might otherwise accompany the parent and/or child. I sat there and watched parent after parent prompt their kids to flex their memory muscles and practice their computer skills: "Ok Timmy, now, what’s our address? What’s your birthday? Do you remember our phone number? Good typing!!"
It’s not until after the kids have given up all this data, most often with their parents help and lulled consent (though there’s no requirement that parents participate at all), that Build-A-Bear gives its customers a copy of its privacy policy, which comes tucked away in the packaging folks take home.
I really don’t have any problem with Build-A-Bear’s privacy policy, or the tie-ins with the virtual world (Build-A-Bearville) the company hopes your child will visit with his or her new stuffed friend. But though the policy looks good on paper, this is a case where the execution stinks. Parents and kids should not be urged or encouraged to give up personal data, and when they’re asked to do so there should be some up-front reminders as to what is happening.
Cory Doctorow likes to tell an anecdote about how today’s children are becoming more and more inured to invasions of privacy. In his case, children in line at Disneyland thought it odd when he refused to supply a fingerprint. Here, kids are learning it’s ok for a store to know quite a bit about them. Parents should make a stink about this sort of thing and be on the lookout for it.
As I inevitably download "new" holiday music each year, it’s painfully apparent we wouldn’t *have* much new holiday music if it weren’t for sampling, remixes, remakes, and mashups. The iTunes List of 44 Holiday Songs for 2007 is testament to this fact, as are the many Christmasremixes and dubs dotting the ‘Net and the digital download inventory.
But all this Christmas cheer does not come cheap, especially for those who mix, mash, clip, and copy without jumping through Byzantine (if not impossible) licensing hurdles. Such artists may find their stockings stuffed only with costly lawsuits and astronomical damages liability. As Professor Patry wrote of the Bridgeport decision, "[I]n the end, it is creators of new sound recordings who build, transformatively on the works of predecessors who will suffer the most, and thereby all of us."
Even the likes of Disney are not necessarily immune. Do you hear what I hear? Namely, "War is Over" making a guest appearance in this Disney/Hannah Montana remake of "Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree." (Starting at 1:50.)
Katie Wedell was kind enough to free "The List: 44 Holiday Songs for 2007" (whence Hannah/Ms. Cyrus wound up on my stereo) from the iTunes Store, should you care to browse. Keith Richards’ Run Rudolph Run is a must-have:
1. The First Noel - Josh Groban and Faith Hill
2. Mistletoe - Colbie Caillat
3. Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree - Hannah Montana
4. Happy Xmas (War is Over) - Maroon 5
5. Run Rudolph Run - Keith Richards
6. Santa Baby - Kellie Pickler
7. Frosty the Snowman - Toby Keith
8. Season’s Greetings - Robbers on High Street
9. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas - Emmy Rossum
10. Let it Snow - Michael Bolton
11. All I Want for Christmas - Keith Sweat
12. Don’t Shoot Me Santa - The Killers
13. Run Rudolph Run - Billy Ray Cyrus
14. O Come All Ye Faithful - Katharine McPhee
15. Oh Come Oh Come Emmanuel - Joshua James
16. O Holy Night - Mandisa
17. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen / Feliz Navidad - Chanticleer
18. It Came Upon the Midnight Clear - Mannheim Steamroller
19. Silent Night - Lifehouse
20. On Christmas Day - Nazanin
21. What Child Is This - Michael W. Smith
22. Sleigh Ride - Relient k
23. Marshmallow World - Raul Malo
24. Jingle Bells - The Puppini Sisters
25. Do You Hear What I Hear - Yolanda Adams
26. Silver Bells - Mindy Smith
27. Wonderful Christmastime - Jars of Clay
28. The Dreidel Song - Sister Hazel
29. My Grown-Up Christmas List - Clay Aiken
30. Last Christmas - CASCADA
31. Santa Baby - Carter’s Chord
32. We Need a Little Christmas - Kimberley Locke
33. The Best Christmas - Christopher Cross
34. Ding Dong! Merrily On High - The American Boychoir
35. Santa Claus is Coming to Town - Bucky Covington
36. Here Comes Santa Claus - Tracy Lawrence
37. Silent Night - Sinéad O’Connor
38. Bring Me Love - Marié Digby
39. Christmas in Dixie - Trent Tomlinson
40. Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas - Bebo Norman
Lawyer rating start-up and nascent online community Avvo scored a big win yesterday when it convinced a Washington district court to dismiss a putative class action lawsuit filed last June. Avvo aggregates available attorney information, assigns subjective (and undisclosed) value to various factors, and comes up with a 1-10 rating. (Initially, Avvo rated every lawyer in its database. Shortly after its launch, and after the lawsuit was filed, Avvo responded to concerns about this practice and altered its approach.) Avvo’s ratings are thus generally analogous to Google’s PageRank: factors are weighted and a score is assigned. The lawyer-plaintiffs in the suit challenged the accuracy and validity of Avvo’s ratings and argued consumers would be misled by the flawed system. Avvo countered that the rating system yields no more than opinions entitled to absolute first amendment protection. The court agreed:
Avvo’s website contains numerous reminders that the Avvo rating system is subjective. The ratings are described as an “assessment” or “judgment,” two words that imply some sort of evaluative process. The underlying data is weighted based on Avvo’s subjective opinions regarding the relative importance of various attributes, such as experience, disciplinary proceedings, client evaluations, and self-promotion. How an attribute is scored and how it is weighed in comparison with other attributes is not disclosed, but a reasonable person would understand that two people looking at the same underlying data could come up with vastly different ratings depending on their subjective views of what is relevant and important. . . . Neither the nature of the information provided nor the language used on the website would lead a reasonable person to believe that the ratings are a statement of actual fact.
This is obviously good news for Avvo, and for any site that crunches variables to assign a rating. As Mike Gunderloy observed when the suit against Avvo was filed, this includes much of the Web 2.0 ecosystem. While Mike was concerned primarily about protections available to rating systems based on user (i.e. third party) feedback, it’s interesting to note that the court’s decision to dismiss the suit against Avvo was based solely on the First Amendment and not on Section 230 of the Communications Decency Act, which provides limited liability protection for assertions made by third parties. Section 230 played no role here despite the fact at least some of Avvo’s ratings are based on third party assertions, specifically “peer endorsements.” The Avvo plaintiffs apparently “disavowed any claim based on content that Avvo obtained from a third party,” and there was thus no reason for the court to consider or discuss Avvo’s Section 230 defense. Thus, as with the KinderStart case against Google dismissed earlier this year, this court found that an algorithmically generated opinion can’t be “wrong,” “inaccurate,” or “invalid,” and failed to consider the potential (ultimately probable) role of Section 230 in limiting claims of this kind.
Ed Champion is investigating whether certain bloggers included in Amazon’s Kindle launch were made “Kindle Blogs” without authorization or licensing. He cites two examples (Daniel McGowan and Cork Gaines) of bloggers who apparently are included in the Kindle Store without their permission. This surprises me. My personal blog Bag and Baggage is there in the Kindle Store too (I’m also quoted in Ed’s post), but under an express agreement. It could be the Kindle team had some misunderstanding about the ramifications of the noncommercial use restriction in certain Creative Commons licenses; the initial email I received about participating did reference my Creative Commons license, but neither McGowan nor Gaines seem to use Creative Commons so I’m at a loss as to what’s going on. In my case, Amazon had lots of communication with me about including Bag and Baggage, and crossed its T’s and dotted its I’s on the legal front.
[Updated 10:08 p.m.] Ed Champion has unearthed two more bloggers who are less than pleased with being Kindleized.
[Updated 11/22, 9:36 a.m.] Engadget reports the Kindle gave Amazon plenty to be thankful for, selling out the first batch in just 5.5 hours.
The recent and unexpected passing of my grandmother (she was the only 98-year-old I’ve known who could, and did, blindside hundreds with her death) opened my eyes to the fact that death in 2007 has become an online, interactive experience. The mortuary partnered with MeM.com to provide an “Everlasting Memorial,” complete with a photo slideshow (which was displayed at the memorial service; this was in Silicon Valley, after all), still images, and guest book:
Customers have told us that one of the most cherished features of the Everlasting Memorial is the guest book section. This allows family and friends from around the world to send messages to share their thoughts and fond memories. To send a message, a loved one merely clicks on the “send message” button, and begins drafting their message. Once received, family approval is required prior to publishing to the web.
Of course, they upsell/make a number of “keepsakes” available to the bereaved.
The San Jose Mercury News, where we ran the obituary, partners with Legacy.com, a similar service. Nicer guestbook format; no slide show. This memorial isn’t everlasting though, until some family member or other benefactor comes along to sponsor the (considerable) hosting fees.
Thus does the Live Web creep into all aspects of life and death. Even while the family is thinking of other, hopefully more profound things, these online communities of mourning — moderated to control, I suppose, disparagement and spam — spring into being at the hands of those on the business side of the death.
While I’m struck by the Web’s increasing role in building communities around death, I’m equally struck by the willingness of the related enterprises to fleece the unsophisticated public. The “keepsake” prices, e.g., around $70 for a hardbound book, are quite high. (Compare QOOP’s hardbound photobooks starting at $29.99.) Consider too the daily charge to run an obituary in the Mercury News:
$9.75 per 31 character line, plus
$117 per day to include a photo.
Assuming you’re also charged for the spaces in your 31 character lines, that’s roughly $850 per day for a 400 word obituary w/ picture. This brief blog post, also with picture (one I enjoyed, and hope you do too), is about that length already. It’s clear obituaries are cash cows for the newspaper industry. What’s not clear is how long people who can get the same information out to a larger audience for free or basically free online will continue writing those checks. One of my favorite Steve Jobs-isms, about the challenges they faced at the beginning of the personal computer era, seems particularly apropos here: “People couldn’t type. We realized: Death would eventually take care of this.”
Forget about things like the fact Google’s at $741 and Apple’s at $191. Were you to try to rent a car at San Jose Airport tomorrow (Wednesday), you would discover that every single vehicle — from every single carrier — is spoken for.
Robert Scoble is wondering whether accessibility laws may cripple videocasts (and presumably podcasts). Scott Bourne had an interesting (if inconclusive) post on the subject last year, and the head lemur posits that the touchstone (in the context of the Target case presently in the news) may be whether or not you’re doing e-commerce. I’m out of my depth with accessibility law, but the subject has certainly come up and intrigued us for the last two years in the legal session at the Podcast and New Media Expo.
My thinking, uninformed as it is, is that Web accessibility and video/podcast accessibility are different animals. Since podcasts aren’t going out over any FCC-regulated spectrum, perhaps their accessibility requirements (if any) should be similar to those applicable to satellite broadcasts. If you’re on top of those requirements or have further thoughts (e.g., perhaps satellite isn’t the proper analogy at all), please chime in in the comments. And while we’re at it:
Denise Howell is an appellate, intellectual property and technology lawyer who enjoys broad industry recognition for her expertise on the intersection of emerging technologies and law. See her full profile and disclosure of her industry affiliations.