Copyright law can be very basic: I write a story. I publish a story. I'm the author of the work, and I'm entitled to make money by selling that work.
But do creators have any obligation to their readers and their fans who breathe life and energy into their creation?
This philosophical puzzle can only truly be solved by the yielding up of the power of the creator.
For example, my 12-year-daughter and I recently visited the "Wizarding World of Harry Potter" during its weekend opening at Universal Studios Hollywood. Ostensibly a "theme park," this real estate is enchanted not so much because of spectacular rides, but because it is conceptually immersive.
Having read J.K. Rowling's Harry Potter books, and having watched the film adaptions, stepping into Harry Potter's "world" seemed like the next natural progression. We purchased and drank "butter beer." We walked through authentic-looking shops at Hogsmeade. We were even outfitted with a wand that, when waved precisely on marked spots throughout the village, unlocked "magical" spells as its light-emitting diode interacted with window displays.
It is clear that books, the movies and theme parks are subject to copyright. But would their respective owners dare try to stop a visitor taking a selfie within their creative work?
Copyright holders draw us their worlds — sometimes only to restrict our freedom of action when we get there.
Take the case of "Axanar," a would-be feature-length film set in the galaxy occupied by the Star Trek franchise. "Axanar" was to be a prequel to the six television series constituting more than 700 episodes (owned by CBS), and 12 motion pictures (owned by Paramount).
I first learned about "Axanar" last September when I went to the Salt Lake Comic Con (with the same daughter) and met Richard Hatch of Battlestar Galactica fame. Hatch appears in "Prelude to Axanar," a 20-minute teaser film, acting as Klingon Supreme Commander Kharn.
I understand the Klingons to be a warlike humanoid species that appear as recurring antagonists throughout Star Trek shows and movies. Klingon is apparently now a well-developed language and has, according to a Wired magazine article in 1996, about a dozen fluent speakers.
Keep in mind: All of this before the copyright infringement lawsuit.
In December 2015, Paramount and CBS sued the would-be producers of "Axanar." Why? Simple: Unauthorized creative activity in a galaxy controlled by Star Trek copyright holders.
"Prelude to Axanar" and "Axanar" are "fan films," a genre of generally non-commercial work building off the infrastructure of others' creativity. Yet they boldly go beyond their authors' original storylines.
Some consider this a form of "transformative work," a not so extensively developed body of law articulated by the U.S. Supreme Court in Campbell v. Acuff-Rose Music (1994). The theory nonetheless permitted publication of "The Wind Done Gone," a parody and transformation of Margaret Mitchell's famous "Gone With the Wind."
Some authors are tolerant of fan books and films. J.K. Rowling says that she "is happy for spin-offs to be published online as long as the publications are not sold and it is made clear she was not involved in the stories," and that such works are not pornographic or racist.
Indeed, the masters of the Star Trek universe had a similar laissez-faire attitude — until "Axanar" came along.
"Prelude to Axanar" was produced in 2014 after a crowdfunding campaign raised $101,171. That was OK. But with a planned budget of $1.15 million, "Axanar" was attempting to be a truly commercial Star Trek film — completely independent of the owner of Star Trek!
The issue came sharply into focus last week when a federal district court judge in Los Angeles held that Paramount/CBS' copyright claim could go forward. Axanar Productions had challenged their initial complaint as being too vague.
After all, the story and script of "Axanar" was original. Yet the copyright owners said the movie infringed because it incorporated "protected elements," such as characters, species, costumes, makeup weapons and starships.
And then there was Klingon. To the surprise of many, Paramount and CBS laid claim to the language itself because of its initial use in the 1979 "Star Trek — The Motion Picture."
That earned a sharp rebuke from attorneys for the Language Creation Society, who attempted to file an insightful and entertaining brief in the case.
"Given that Paramount Pictures commissioned the creation of some of the language, it is understandable that Paramount might feel some sense of ownership over the creation. But, feeling ownership and having ownership are not the same thing. … Nobody can use (here the brief uses the Klingon word) ‘mind property law’ to limit others' rights to freely use a language."
Indeed. The most powerful works of creation must take on a life of their own. The parable of "Axanar" shows the need to restore balance to the universe of copyright.
Drew Clark is of counsel at the law firm of Best Best and Krieger, where he focuses on technology, media and telecommunications. Connect on Twitter @drewclark or via email at drewclark@bbklaw.com.