Litigation and Trial - Max Kennerly : Philadelphia Trial Lawyer Max Kennerly : Business and Commercial Litigation : Civil Attorney : The Beasley Firm : Philadelphia Pennsylvania

The False Claim Act envisions a broad definition under 31 U.S.C. § 3729(b) for when a defendant "knowingly" makes a false or fraudulent claim to the federal government:

(b) Knowing and Knowingly Defined.— For purposes of this section, the terms “knowing” and “knowingly” mean that a person, with respect to information—

(1) has actual knowledge of the information;
(2) acts in deliberate ignorance of the truth or falsity of the information; or
(3) acts in reckless disregard of the truth or falsity of the information,

and no proof of specific intent to defraud is required.

The burden of persuasion for proving it is, like under most federal statutes, only preponderance of evidence:

Unlike a large number, and perhaps the majority, of the States, Congress has chosen the preponderance standard when it has created substantive causes of action for fraud. See, e. g., 31 U. S. C. § 3731(c) (False Claims Act); 12 U. S. C. § 1833a(e) (1988 ed., Supp. I) (civil penalties for fraud involving financial institutions); 42 CFR § 1003.114(a) (1989) (Medicare and Medicaid fraud under 42 U. S. C. § 1320a-7a); Herman & MacLean v. Huddleston, 459 U. S., at 388-390 (civil enforcement of the antifraud provisions of the securities laws); Steadman v. SEC, 450 U. S. 91, 96 (1981) (administrative proceedings concerning violation of antifraud provisions of the securities laws); SEC v. C. M. Joiner Leasing Corp., 320 U. S. 344, 355 (1943) (§ 17(a) of the Securities Act of 1933); First National Monetary Corp. v. Weinberger, 819 F. 2d 1334, 1341-1342 (CA6 1987) (civil fraud provisions of the Commodity Exchange Act). Cf. Sedima, S. P. R. L. v. Imrex Co., 473 U. S. 479, 491 (1985) (suggesting that the preponderance standard applies to civil actions under the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act).

Grogan v. Garner, 498 U.S. 279, 288-289 (1991).

But even though a whistleblower need not show specific intent to defraud, there nonetheless are limits on the claims. The Fourth Circuit recently decided US ex rel. Owens v. First Kuwaiti General Trading, affirming the District Court's grant of summary judgment:

Relator John Owens brought this qui tam suit under the False Claims Act (“FCA”), 31 U.S.C. §§ 3729, et seq., against First Kuwaiti construction firm, his former employer. He alleged that the firm billed falsely for deficient work in connection with construction of the U.S. embassy in Baghdad and that it retaliated against him for actions taken in furtherance of his FCA contentions. The district court granted summary judgment to defendant.

The essence of Relator's claim is that defendant failed to live up to its contractual obligations. He produced no evidence either of knowing misrepresentations on defendant's part or of having been mistreated for any actions taken on behalf of his FCA claims. We therefore affirm the district court's judgment. Congress crafted the FCA to deal with fraud, not ordinary contractual disputes. The FCA plays an important role in safeguarding the integrity of federal contracting, administering strong medicine in situations where strong remedies are needed. Allowing it to be used in run-of-the-mill contract disagreements and employee grievances would burden, not help, the contracting process, thereby driving up costs for the government and, by extension, the American public.

I'm a sucker for Circuit Court opinions that state the law in plain English and cite to other Circuits, which is why I'm posting this one:

The FCA provides that suit may be brought against anyone who “knowingly presents” to the government “a false or fraudulent claim for payment or approval.” 31 U.S.C. § 3729(a)(1). It similarly allows suit against anyone who “knowingly makes ․ a false record or statement material to a false or fraudulent claim.” Id. at § 3729(a)(1)(B). In adopting the FCA, “the objective of Congress was broadly to protect the funds and property of the government.” Rainwater v. United States, 356 U.S. 590, 592 (1958).

The FCA's scienter requirement does not demand “specific intent to defraud” and can be satisfied by proving only “reckless disregard of the truth or falsity of the information.” Id. § 3729(b). Congress, however, has made plain “ ‘its intention that the act not punish honest mistakes or incorrect claims submitted through mere negligence.’ “ United States ex rel. Hochman v. Nackman, 145 F.3d 1069, 1073 (9th Cir.1998) (quoting S.Rep. No. 99-345, at 7 (1986)). This is because “[t]he FCA is a fraud prevention statute.” United States ex rel. Lamers v. City of Green Bay, 168 F.3d 1013, 1019 (7th Cir.1999); see also Allison Engine Co. v. United States ex rel. Sanders, 553 U.S. 662, 128 S.Ct. 2123, 2130 (2008). It does not allow a qui tam relator to “shoehorn what is, in essence, a breach of contract action into a claim that is cognizable under the False Claims Act.” United States ex rel. Wilson v. Kellogg Brown & Root, Inc., 525 F.3d 370, 373 (4th Cir.2008).

The case itself is good example of when faulty government contracting work is not quite bad enough to warrant liability. The defendant there apparently messed up some of the building work, but no worse than other contracts with similar claims did, and — more importantly — no worse than envisioned by the contract itself. The whistleblower thus couldn't muster, at least in the Circuit Court's eyes, enough evidence to show the defendant even "recklessly disregard" the falsity of the claims it submitted.

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[Update: I somehow missed Ron Coleman's earlier take on the article, but it's required reading if you're interested in the subject. Coleman and Walter Olson both seem on board with, as Olson words it, "steering rights owners into agency complaints or arbitration as an alternative, or at least precondition, to court action."] 

Via Kevin Drum, Wired's Threat Level has a profile of Steve Gibson, CEO of Righthaven, a company which has applied the much maligned — but often quite lucrative — "patent troll" model to copyright litigation on behalf of publishers:

Borrowing a page from patent trolls, the CEO of fledgling Las Vegas-based Righthaven has begun buying out the copyrights to newspaper content for the sole purpose of suing blogs and websites that re-post those articles without permission. And he says he’s making money. ...

Gibson’s vision is to monetize news content on the backend, by scouring the internet for infringing copies of his client’s articles, then suing and relying on the harsh penalties in the Copyright Act — up to $150,000 for a single infringement — to compel quick settlements. Since Righthaven’s formation in March, the company has filed at least 80 federal lawsuits against website operators and individual bloggers who’ve re-posted articles from the Las Vegas Review-Journal, his first client. ...

Gibson says he’s just getting started. Righthaven has other media clients that he won’t name until the lawsuits start rolling out, he says.

“Frankly, I think we’re having tremendous success at a number of levels,” Gibson says. “We file new complaints every day.”

They sure do; a search on Justia Dockets for "Righthaven" shows a handful of new suits every week, including a recent suit against those scourges of American society, the American Society of Safety Engineers. Here's the complaint, in which Righthaven requests the Court, e.g.,

3. Direct Network Solutions and any successor domain name registrar for the Domain to lock the Domain and transfer control of the Domain to Righthaven;

4. Award Righthaven statutory damages for the willful infringement of the Work, pursuant to 17 U.S.C. § 504(c);

5. Award Righthaven costs, disbursements, and attorneys’ fees incurred by Righthaven in bringing this action, pursuant to 17 U.S.C. § 505;

Apparently either the ASSE or one of its chapters (the complaint references the Central Florida Chapter of the ASSE) cut and pasted into their newsfeed a copy of an article from the Las Vegas Review-Journal titled, “Bill would help regulators better enforce safety rules."

Cutting-and-pasting someone else's article isn't kosher, but look at the harsh relief claimed by Righthaven.

I'm doubtful of the demand in #3 that Righthaven be given control of asse.org, considering that they raise solely a copyright claim, not a cyber-squatting claim, and "Copyright law does not protect domain names." I suppose the Court has the power to enjoin defendants from further infringing activity, but that's a far cry from locking someone's entire website and transferring it simply because there was, at some point, an infringing work on it.

#4 and #5 are standard in copyright litigation: the plaintiff can elect "statutory damages" of up to a whopping $150,000 per incident, just shy of three times the median annual household income, plus the costs (including attorneys' fees) of suit.

Putting aside those substantial damagins, just hiring an attorney to defend the case will cost a couple thousand dollars, even if they are on a flat fee with someone who specializes in copyright defense.

As Kevin Drum and Wired both note, the notion of litigation "trolling" — whether on behalf of patents or copyright — is not without its critics. That said, as well-intentioned as the ASSE may have been, truth is, it wasn't their content, and they shouldn't have posted it. So long as the claims are meritorious, the settlement demands are not extortionate, and the practice of trolling is limited to companies, rather than individuals — the primary target of the RIAA's hopelessly failed litigation campaign — then I'm not that worried about due process or "SLAPP" concerns.

But two aspects of the practice as applied to publishing copyrights bother me.

First, there is no doubt that copyright law and copyright norms affect culture. Consider this fascinating article at Ars Technica about how comedy routines changed dramatically once it became taboo to steal other comedian's jokes. When it comes to copyright trolls, I worry that legitimate fair use of portions of articles will be chilled by litigation concerns, as is already the case in the world of film.

Second, if we assume — as I do — that the bulk of these cases involve minor infractions that can and should be settled for less than $10,000, that raises a basic question of fairness. One of the least-discussed aspects of the civil justice system is how we have completely different systems for the most common types of claims, i.e. employment discrimination claims and minor injuries.

In many states, including Pennsylvania, if you want to sue an employer for employment discrimination, you can't. Instead, you need to file an agency complaint — which you must do within 180 days, much sooner than you must file any other type of lawsuit — and then you must work your way through the agency process before you can even begin your lawsuit in court.

Similarly, as the Court of Common Pleas of Allegheny County here in Pennsylvania pioneered, a number of jurisdictions enforce compulsory arbitration for claims of low value. If you have one of those low-value claims, the full powers of the civil justice system aren't available to you, at least not initially.You need to go through the compulsory arbitration system first, thereby delaying your relief and making it harder for you to prosecute it.

Are agency investigations and compulsory arbitration bad ideas? Not necessarily. Both of them do, in fact, save defendants a tremendous amount of time and money, and sometimes they facilitate a resolution of the case in a much cheaper and more expedient manner than the full-fledged trial courts.

But if our purpose in setting up those parallel legal systems is to lessen the burden on the defendant for comparatively small claims, why not set up as a similar system for comparatively small copyright infringement claims like those brought by Righthaven? Is there some reason that a claim arising from a single copying of a single newspaper article should be entitled to start immediately in the federal district courts while a claim arising from the wrongful termination of an employee for discriminatory reasons should have to go through a year or more of agency investigation?

It would seem to me that the terminated employee — who may have wrongfully suffered a grievous economic injury — should have a stronger entitlement to immediate relief than a well-funded company that exists solely to carry out litigation. 

[As I commented at Overlawyered following Walter's link here] I think these types of copyright claims are more appropriate for agency investigation or arbitration than employment discrimination or personal injury suits. The latter two are typically dependent upon oral testimony (and thus the credibility of the witnesses, which needs to be assessed through live testimony), while the former could reasonably be evaluated solely on the documents.

Just taking that ASSE case as an example, all the agency would really need, other than the complaint filed, is an answer from the defendant admitting or denying the material facts about the extent and nature of republication.

And that would be it; the investigator or arbitrator could then look at those documents, the core of which would be fewer than 20 pages, and start discussing with the parties a reasonable settlement. That would obviate the need to bring on attorneys for hundreds of dollars an hour, and would keep these small potatoes matters from clogging our federal courts.

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Rosabeth Moss Kanter, a professor at Harvard Business School, commented yesterday on the ouster of BP's widely-loathed CEO, Tony Hayward, beginning a list of his follies with:

Mr. Hayward must have studied management in a parallel universe, where a set of anti-rules for bad leadership are taught. Here's what I imagine are those anti-rules.

• Deny and minimize problems. Drop any mention of the high-minded principles you announced at the beginning of your term, such as safety and a culture that puts people first. Sweep them under the rug as you play down the significance of the crisis. Or better yet, find someone else to blame — a supplier, a business partner, a lowly employee or two.

I'll leave it to the Professor to say whether that's a bad or good bad idea — I'm sure their lawyers all agree denial is a good thing — but I can tell you this much: it's what every single large corporate CEO has done when their company has wreaked havoc on innocents.

Let's look at some examples aside from BP just this year:

• The Duck Boat / Tug Boat collision: as of yet, no one has taken any responsibility at all.
• Massey Energy's Upper Big Branch mine explosion: there was "no company policy or practice to operate mining machines and cut coal without working methane monitors," no matter what NPR found.
• Goldman Sachs "categorically" denied any wrongdoing in its subprime CDO sales: now they're paying $550 million to settle the SEC action for the "incomplete information" it provided.

Truth is, we let them get away with it.

Massey and Goldman are big as ever. Once the media storm blows over, they can do whatever they want; Exxon litigated the Valdez spill for twenty years. Indeed, Wall Street was so smart they even figured out how to loan Exxon money without being on the hook if Exxon lost the litigation: they invented credit-default swaps, the same ones Wall Street used later to blow up the whole economy while walking away with billions.

I thus wouldn't say that "Hayward must have studied management in a parallel universe" — he learned all his lessons right here in this business world, the one in which individuals are expected to take responsibility for their actions but large corporations are not.

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At The American Lawyer:

Two separate classes of retired NFL players have sued the two firms, Manatt, Phelps & Phillips and McKool Smith, alleging that they left some retirees out of the settlement and blew the chance for much greater damages, according to a copy of the complaint. The original class action accused the NFL players' union of intentionally excluding retired players from licensing deals, including the ultra-lucrative deal through which the video game maker Electronic Arts purchased the right to use player names and images in its popular John Madden franchise. The union, represented by Dewey & LeBoeuf, denied the allegations, but a sympathetic jury delivered the $28 million verdict, which was to be distributed to about 2,000 retired players. (The two sides eventually settled for just over $26 million.)

In short, the players claim their attorneys botched the trial of the case in two ways:

• by failing to effectively introduce a series of emails — or a witness testifying about the same point — in which an Electronic Arts executive complains that the players' union refused to include retired NFL players in the licensing negotiations; and,
• by failing to introduce sufficient evidence demonstrating the extent of damages caused by the players' unions breach of fiduciary duty, which was the only claim the jury actually accepted.

I litigate legal malpractice cases, and let me tell you: the deck is stacked in favor of the defendant.
Even where the defendant outright fails to do a basic task — like fail to file a claim within the statute of limitations — the plaintiff still must prove they would have won the "case within the case."* That is, of course, just as hard as winning the case in the first place, and then you also have to win the malpractice case, too.

Let's put aside the second error raised by the retired NFL players, the proof-of-damages issue. While it would certainly be less-than-ideal for a lawyer not to cover all of their bases at trial, analysis of such an issue is necessarily very fact-intensive. No time for that; this is a blog, after all.

The complaint portrays the first error as garden variety malpractice, since the emails were "obvious hearsay," and so couldn't be introduced without (a) an EA employee providing testimony that triggered the "business records" exception to hearsay or (b) the author of the email testifying about the email itself.

The admissibility problems of email aren't anything new; Gregory Joseph wrote a thorough article about them two years ago. Although not every email by a non-party is admitted into a civil trial — many, probably most, aren't — It would indeed be garden-variety malpractice to not know your way around the Federal Rules of Evidence well enough to even try to get the email in. The complaint's allegations on this point, however, don't make sense to me:

At the final pretrial conference the District Court requested supplemental briefing on the extent to which Strauser's internal EA e-mail statements were admissible. Defendants promised to provide a brief because the admissibility of this document was "critical." Following submission of the briefs, the District Court found that the proper foundation had not been laid for admitting the Strauser portions of the e-mail into evidence.

I'd assume those briefs would cover most of the bases claimed now as malpractice; did the lawyers really not even mention the business records exception or the possibility of calling Mr. Strauser?

The question bothered me enough that I looked up the relevant briefs on admissibility; here's the plaintiff's brief and here's the defendant's brief. Sure enough, there was ample briefing on the business records exception; plaintiffs apparently just plain lost that one. That's not, in itself, surprising; Gregory Joseph's article mentions plenty of cases holding the same (though plenty of cases holding otherwise).

The plaintiff's lawyers tried to call the email a "business record" and tried to call the email a "present sense impression" of the EA executive, and lost on both. Losing an argument before the judge is not same thing as malpractice.

That leaves the question of calling Strauser to the stand. At one of the hearings, the Court and the plaintiff's lawyer had the following exchange:

THE COURT: Why don't you bring in Strausser, who's
the guy, and let him be cross-examined?
MR. HUMMEL: I would love to. I understand he lives
in Florida. We did not depose him in the case. We will have
Mr. Linzner here under subpoena, and Mr. Linzner can testify as
to Mr. Strausser's position, and his authority to speak within
the context of the EA.

Mr. Hummel's predicament is understandable; "the subpoena power of a court cannot be more extensive than its jurisdiction." U.S. Catholic Conf. v. Abortion Rights Mobilization, Inc., 487 U.S. 72, 76, 108 S.Ct. 2268, 2270, 101 L.Ed.2d 69, 76 (1988). As the Southern District of New York noted (in evaluating service of subpoenas on members of the PLO):

Service of a subpoena, even if properly effected, is only valid if served on a party who is subject to personal jurisdiction within this district. The Due Process Clause of the Fourteenth Amendment limits the exercise of personal jurisdiction to persons having certain "minimum contacts" with the forum. Ina Shoe Co. v. Washington, 326 U.S. 310, 316, 66 S.Ct. 154, 158, 90 L.Ed. 95, 102 (1945). A court may exercise personal jurisdiction only over a defendant whose "conduct and connection with the forum State are such that he should reasonably anticipate being haled into court there." Burger King Corp. v. Rudzewicz, 471 U.S. 462, 474, 105 S.Ct. 2174, 2183, 85 L.Ed.2d 528 (1985) (quoting World-Wide Volkswagen Corp. v. Woodson, 444 U.S. 286, 297, 100 S.Ct. 559, 567, 62 L.Ed.2d 490 (1980)).

Since Strauser apparently lived (and worked?) in Florida, any subpoena served by the attorney wouldn't have been effective.

I don't know enough about Mr. Linzner's role to say if he was indeed the best witness to call to authenticate the email and provide testimony that would trigger a hearsay exception. It sure seems like the plaintiff's lawyer thought he was the most knowledgeable witness they could subpoena.

There is another issue that needs explanation, though: Electronic Arts quite obviously transacts substantial business in the Northern District of California, and so would have been subject to service under Rule 45(b). Why not subpoena them to produce the witness most familiar with the email in question? That'd be a backdoor method of getting Strauser on the stand, and the failure to do so demands some explanation.

Then again, as shown by the transcript, the Court itself accepted at face value counsel's inability to call Strauser, and so many have implicitly accepted that the backdoor method was either unreasonable or also not available for some reason. That makes me wonder why the email wasn't admitted under Rule 807:

A statement not specifically covered by Rule 803 or 804 but having equivalent circumstantial guarantees of trustworthiness, is not excluded by the hearsay rule, if the court determines that (A) the statement is offered as evidence of a material fact; (B) the statement is more probative on the point for which it is offered than any other evidence which the proponent can procure through reasonable efforts; and (C) the general purposes of these rules and the interests of justice will best be served by admission of the statement into evidence.

That seems to be precisely the situation here; no one genuinely doubted the email was authentic, or that it represented the actual thoughts and perception of Strauser. The issues preventing its admission were all legal technicalities.

I don't know if the plaintiff's referenced that exception, but I also don't know if it matters — the Court knows the Rules just as well, and likely better, than the attorneys. It seemed the Court was intent on excluding that email no matter what the plaintiffs said, which makes me wonder if it was really malpractice not to get the email admitted. Put simply, if a judge wants to rule one way, it's usually not the lawyer's fault if they can't convice the judge otherwise

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Via the WSJ Law Blog, the Ninth Circuit, in a significant published opinion with ramifications for copyright litigators, vacated the $10 million verdict — and, more importantly, the constructive trust and injunction — that Mattel won against MGA.

Unusually, the panel summed up its own findings at the end:

[Carter] Bryant’s employment agreement may not have assigned his ideas for the names “Bratz” and “Jade” to Mattel at all, and the district court erred by holding that it did so unambiguously. Even if Bryant did assign his ideas, the district court abused its discretion in transferring the entire Bratz trademark portfolio to Mattel. We therefore vacate the constructive trust, UCL injunction and declaratory judgment concerning Mattel’s rights to the Bratz trademarks. The district court may impose a narrower constructive trust on remand only if there’s a proper determination that Mattel owns Bryant’s ideas.

The district court also erred in holding, at summary judgment, that the employment agreement assigned works created outside the scope of Bryant’s employment. We therefore vacate the copyright injunction. On remand, Mattel will have to convince a jury that the agreement assigned Bryant’s preliminary sketches and sculpt, either because the agreement assigns works made outside the scope of employment or because these works weren’t made outside of Bryant’s employment. And, in order to justify a copyright injunction, Mattel will have to show that the Bratz sculpts are virtually identical to Bryant’s preliminary sculpt, or that the Bratz dolls are substantially similar to Bryant’s sketches disregarding similarities in unprotectable ideas.

There's no two ways to slice it: the opinion is a major loss for Mattel. Even if they win on remand and retrial, they've lost their biggest weapons.

Sure, Mattel gets another crack at showing misappropriation by Bryant and MGA, and it has decent odds of proving "the agreement assigned Bryant’s preliminary sketches and sculpt, either because the agreement assigns works made outside the scope of employment or because these works weren’t made outside of Bryant’s employment." There was certainly evidence at trial supporting that.

But where will that get them? As I wrote back when the verdict came out, "The jury essentially found that MGA was entitled to 95% of the Bratz empire's profits," despite finding extensive wrongful conduct by Bryant and MGA.

The problem for Mattel is that, even they succeed the next time around, the Ninth Circuit has obliterated their two most powerful remedies: the constructive trust over the Bratz profits and the injunction prohibiting MGA from producing more Bratz dolls. The Bratz empire has earned over $1 billion in profits; a $10 million award — even a $100 million award — has only a fraction of the value to Mattel as a constructive trust or an injunction, both of which would cripple MGA and award the Bratz empire to Mattel.

Back when the verdict came out, I thought the sort of windfall proposed by Mattel bothered the jury:

Recall that excellent Learned Hand quote unearthed by the Eleventh Circuit (and discussed in my post on the Watchmen lawsuit:

It must be obvious to every one familiar with equitable principles that it is inequitable for the owner of a copyright, with full notice of an intended infringement, to stand inactive while the proposed infringer spends large sums of money in its exploitation, and to intervene only when his speculation has proved a success. Delay under such circumstances allows the owner to speculate without risk with the other's money; he cannot possibly lose, and he may win.

I don't believe the Bratz trial addressed laches and the suit was somewhat timely filed from what I can tell, perhaps two years after the infringement was discovered. I doubt any of the jurors were familiar with Learned Hand, but the core idea is well-accepted in America: expanding upon others' ideas is a legitimate enterprize.

It seems the Ninth Circuit took a similar view:

“When the defendant profits from the wrong, it is necessary to identify the profits and to recapture them without capturing the fruits of the defendant’s own labors or legitimate efforts.” Dan B. Dobbs, Dobbs Law of Remedies: Damages-Equity-Restitution § 6.6(3) (2d ed. 1993). This is because “the aim of restitution has been to avoid taking the defendant’s blood along with the pound of flesh.” Id. § 6.6(3) n.4. A constructive trust is therefore “not appropriate to every case because it can overdo the job.” Id. § 4.3(2).

When the value of the property held in trust increases significantly because of a defendant’s efforts, a constructive trust that passes on the profit of the defendant’s labor to the plaintiff usually goes too far. For example, “[i]f an artist acquired paints by fraud and used them in producing a valuable portrait we would not suggest that the defrauded party would be entitled to the portrait, or to the proceeds of its sale.” Janigan, 344 F.2d at 787. Even assuming that MGA took some ideas wrongfully, it added tremendous value by turning the ideas into products and, eventually, a popular and highly profitable brand. The value added by MGA’s hard work and creativity dwarfs the value of the original ideas Bryant brought with him, even recognizing the significance of those ideas. We infer that the jury made much the same judgment when it awarded Mattel only a small fraction of the more than $1 billion in interest-adjusted profit MGA made from the brand.

The whole opinion is worth reading for anyone with copyright infringement cases claiming a constructive trust or seeking an injunction for misappropriated work.

Of course, with all of these children's and adolescent toys afoot, Judge Kozinski couldn't resist dropping in a Twilight reference:

Assuming that Mattel owns Bryant’s preliminary drawings and sculpt, its copyrights in the works would cover only its particular expression of the bratty-doll idea, not the idea itself. See Herbert Rosenthal Jewelry Corp. v. Kalpakian, 446 F.2d 738, 742 (9th Cir. 1971). Otherwise, the first person to express any idea would have a monopoly over it. Degas can’t prohibit other artists from painting ballerinas, and Charlaine Harris can’t stop Stephenie Meyer from publishing Twilight just because Sookie came first. Similarly, MGA was free to look at Bryant’s sketches and say, “Good idea! We want to create bratty dolls too.”

As the opinion concludes,

America thrives on competition; Barbie, the all-American girl, will too.

She'll need to after this opinion.

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Talking Points Memo reports the latest on the Shirley Sherrod fiasco:

Shirley Sherrod said this morning on CNN that she would like to "get back at" Andrew Breitbart.

Asked if she would consider a defamation suit against Breitbart, the conservative blogger who posted the edited clip that got her fired, she said, "I really think I should."

"I don't know a lot about the legal profession but that's one person I'd like to get back at, because he came at me. He didn't go after the NAACP; he came at me," she went on.

To recap the underlying facts here:

BigGovernment.com "broke" a story yesterday about a speech given a few months ago by Shirley Sherrod, USDA Georgia Director of Rural Development, at an NAACP Freedom Fund dinner. In it, Sherrod tells a story from 24 years ago about not helping a white farmer as much as she could have because she was "struggling with the fact that so many black people had lost their farm land."

The point of this story, told in a public venue, was that she quickly realized that she had done wrong. "That's when it was revealed to me that it's about poor versus those who have. It's not so much about white...it is about white and black but it's not, you know...it opened my eyes."

Breitbart apparently edited the video he released, removing the context which showed the timeframe in which it occurred, Sherrod's quick realization of how wrong she had been, and Sherrod's subsequent friendship with the white farmers at issue. To anyone who saw the video and the report — including Secretary of the Agriculture Tom Vilsack and the NAACP — it appeared that Sherrod had unabashedly admitted discriminating against whites in her official duties.

The NAACP sharply criticized Sherrod, and Secretary Vilsack promptly fired her. Once the full tape was released, the NAACP apologized profusely for having been "snookered" by Breitbart, and Vilsack offered Sherrod her job back. Breitbart also posted a correction:

Correction: While Ms. Sherrod made the remarks captured in the first video featured in this post while she held a federally appointed position, the story she tells refers to actions she took before she held that federal position.

So if everyone supposedly now knows the truth, can she still sue for defamation?

Certainly.

Two words: Richard Jewel.

What came to mind when you read that?

If you're like me, you thought: Olympic Park Bomber.

Jewel wasn't the bomber, of course — that was Eric Rudolph — but after he was identified as a "person of interest," the media quickly cemented in the public's mind a nefarious, rather than heroic, connection between Jewel and the bombing. Subsequent corrections were issued, but the libelous link lingered.

He sued in Georgia, where Sherrod is based and where she would likely sue.

The problem, though, was the high bar he had to reach to prevail:

The central issue presented by this appeal is whether Jewell, as the plaintiff in this defamation action, is a public or private figure, as those terms are used in defamation cases. This is a critically important issue, because in order for a "public figure" to recover in a suit for defamation, there must be proof by clear and convincing evidence of actual malice on the part of the defendant. Plaintiffs who are "private persons" must only prove that the defendant acted with ordinary negligence. Jewell contends the trial court erred in finding that he is a "public figure" for purposes of this defamation action.

Atlanta Journal-Constitution v. Jewell, 555 SE 2d 175 (Ga. 2001). Jewel lost on that, though, and had to move forward in his case as a "public figure."

But he prevailed anyway, negotiating settlements with several media outlets that were apparently in the six or seven figure range. We'll never know what a jury would have found in his case, but we know that the defendants were certainly worried about it, despite the subsequent corrections.

Breitbart apparently senses the danger, and has, through his site, started a defense:

Did Breitbart really excise or ignore the exculpatory portion of Sherrod’s remarks? The initial version of the video included Sherrod’s change-of-heart conclusion that she ought to engage in class warfare rather than race warfare. Her subsequent remarks (the ones that were supposedly edited out) simply built on that theme. Also, does anyone really believe that Andrew Breitbart would intentionally distort a video clip to make a one-day splash? Risk his growing reputation with a deliberate, easily refutable distortion? For those clamoring for more careful consideration of context and intent, perhaps they should contemplate those questions.

Those are just the type of questions a jury would contemplate in assessing whether or not Brietbart acted with "actual malice." Indeed, there's reason to believe Brietbart had some objective in mind with the edited video:

It's also important to understand that Andrew Breitbart's timing of the release of the grossly distorted video of Sherrod, which he admits having had for weeks, may not be entirely random. Congress will soon vote on whether to fund part of a settlement between the USDA and African-American farmers who faced acknowledged discrimination -- farmers like Sherrod and her husband used to be. It's a tiny piece of the upcoming war supplemental bill.

The only way we'll actually get an answer to Breitbart's own questions is if Sherrod does indeed sue.

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The Los Angeles Times featured a story about the legal saga that has enveloped the Christian bestseller The Shack:

"The Shack," William Paul Young's novel about a man rediscovering lost faith after the murder of his 5-year-old daughter, started out as a manuscript no one would touch. Finally, pastors Wayne Jacobsen and Brad Cummings discovered the book and created a start-up, Windblown Media, to publish it. The novel sold a million copies for them in the first year, eventually ending up at No. 1 on the New York Times' trade paperback bestseller list.

Then Hachette Book Group got involved. In May 2008, the publishing conglomerate — one of the largest in the country — cut a deal with Windblown Media to market and distribute the book. In the two years since, "The Shack" has become a 12-million-copy-selling phenomenon and the biggest Christian publishing sensation in decades.

But unlike Cinderella — at least in the Disney version — there's no happy ending in sight for Young, or for the two men, Jacobsen and Cummings, he once called friends and business partners.

For nearly eight months, the trio have been mired in a series of lawsuits, accusations flying over improper accounting practices, millions of dollars in missing royalties, contract breaches and copyright disputes. Hachette, meanwhile, just wants to know to whom it owes money — and how much.

I suppose none of them are in the mood for a reminder about that camel passing through the eye of a needle, not when — according to the federal interpleader complaint filed by Hachette — there's nearly a million dollars in royalties per quarter at stake.

Let's see if the lawyers can provide some balance and perspective on the case:

"In all of my 30 years of practice, Young's lawsuit is the most ridiculous I have ever seen," said Windblown Media's legal representative, Martin Singer, a partner with Lavely Singer. He claimed that Young's lawsuit was a "complete misrepresentation" of the author's financial state, with no mention of the more than $10.5 million Young had earned from "The Shack" to date.

Young's legal representative, Michael Anderson of Anderson & Loeb, scoffed at the countersuit. "They agreed in a written contract that Young was the sole author of 'The Shack,'" he said by telephone. "Back before the work was known to be a bestseller, both parties filed a copyright notice indicating that Young was the sole author. For three years Windblown has been publishing the book under Young's name. [The federal court] action is a belated attempt by [Jacobsen and Cummings] to take credit for a book they didn't write."

Apparently not. Regular readers will delight in seeing Martin Singer make another appearance on these pages; his gift for hyperbole is unparalleled.

From looking at the main pleadings — like the federal court complaint, Young's motion to dismiss, and Windblown's response — neither side's claims strike me as "ridiculous."

In essence, there are three claims, filed in this order:

1. Young sued Jacobsen and Cummings in state court for breach of contract;
2. Jacobsen and Cummings sued Young in federal court to obtain joint control of the copyright for The Shack;
3. Hachette filed an interpleader in federal court asking the court to take control of the money that keeps rolling in from sales of The Shack.

Let's look at the merits of each.

Starting with Young's state-law breach of contract allegations, "creative" accounting is common in Hollywood and in the music industry, so why not in the book industry, too? Young likely has little ability to monitor or police the transactions entered into by Windblown or Hachette, and in many instances — particularly with movies — the transactions at issue are not so much explicit fraud as they are bad faith. That is to say, there's nothing obviously fraudulent about the defendant's conduct, it's just not within the spirit of the party's agreement. That often leads to longer, more drawn-out litigation, since nobody sees themselves as being caught red-handed, they see the dispute as a difference of opinion.

Looking at Jacobsen's and Cummings' federal-law copyright allegations, it is indeed possible that the co-authors to a work, for reasons of convenience (and money), chose not to list themselves as "author" of the work either in the contracts or in the copyright registration. Those facts certainly make it harder for them to prove authorship in front of a jury, but they don't necessarily close the courthouse doors. Consider the Seventh Circuit's opinion in Janky v. Lake County Convention & Visitors Bureau, 576 F. 3d 356 (7th Cir. 2009):

This over-litigated case, involving a song by a doo-wop group, comes to us with 18 district court orders and memorandum opinions spread over a combined 239 pages. The district court's 46-page docket contains a staggering 371 entries. And the briefs of the parties on appeal are a bit unfocused to say the least. But although it's a tough job, someone has to do it, so with shoulder to the wheel, we forge on. ...

Under 17 U.S.C. § 201(a), "[t]he authors of a joint work are co-owners of copyright in the work." In other words, "the joint authors hold undivided interests in [the] work, despite any differences in each author's contribution." Erickson, 13 F.3d at 1068. The benefits of co-authorship are therefore significant: each author may use or license the joint work. Id. But when does a song qualify as a "joint work"? Section 101 of the Copyright Act defines a joint work as "a work prepared by two or more authors with the intention that their contributions be merged into inseparable or interdependent parts of a unitary whole." 17 U.S.C. § 101. In Erickson, we determined that this language requires (1) intent to create a joint work; and (2) contribution of independently copyrightable material.

Since biblical analogies seem to go so well with this case, let's add another: the Synoptic Gospels, i.e. the Gospels of Matthew, Mark and Luke.

Embedded to the right is diagram of the shared content among those gospels — shared content that includes the line about the camel passing through the eye of a needle, which shows up verbatim in all three — explained as follows on Wikipedia:

The Gospel of Matthew, the Gospel of Mark, and the Gospel of Luke are known as the Synoptic Gospels because they include many of the same stories, often in the same sequence, and sometimes the exact same wording. This degree of parallelism in content, narrative arrangement, language, and sentence structures can only be accounted for by literary interdependence. Scholars believe that these gospels share the same point of view and are clearly linked.

In light of the nature of the similarities, most scholars believe the Gospel of Matthew and the Gospel of Luke were based on the Gospel of Mark and a lost, hypothetical gospel called Q. 

Which raises a question pertinent to the lawsuit: assuming Matthew and Luke contributed, respectively, only 20% and 35% of their own Gospels, would that be sufficient to be "independently copyrightable material" that could make them joint authors of the overall Synoptic Gospels? (Let's put aside divine inspiration; that might make the whole thing a work-for-hire, with copyright going to the person who contracted for the work.)

Probably so; "the essence of copyrightability is originality of artistic, creative expression." Ets-Hokin v. Skyy Spirits, Inc., 225 F. 3d 1068 (9th Cir. 2000). Adding text, or substantially re-writing an existing text — as The Shack apparently acknowledges Jacobsen and Cummings really did — is generally enough to make the contribution copyrightable.

As you can imagine, everybody wants their own suit to go first while everyone else's suit waits its turn. The Anti-Injunction Act, however, precludes both District Courts from enjoining the state court from hearing Young's breach of contract claim:

In Atlantic Coast, the Court emphasized an order directed at a state court proceeding must be necessary in aid of jurisdiction — "it is not enough that the requested injunction is related to that jurisdiction." 398 U.S. at 295, 90 S.Ct. 1739. Acknowledging the language is nonetheless broad, the Court elaborated: an injunction is necessary in aid of a court's jurisdiction only if "some federal injunctive relief may be necessary to prevent a state court from so interfering with a federal court's consideration or disposition of a case as to seriously impair the federal court's flexibility and authority to decide that case." Id.

Without more, it may not be sufficient that prior resolution of a state court action will deprive a federal court of the opportunity to resolve the merits of a parallel action in federal court. "The traditional notion is that in personam actions in federal and state court may proceed concurrently, without interference from either court, and there is no evidence that the exception to § 2283 was intended to alter this balance." Vendo Co. v. Lektro-Vend Corp., 433 U.S. 623, 642, 97 S.Ct. 2881, 53 L.Ed.2d 1009 (1977) (plurality opinion). In ordinary actions in personam, "[e]ach court is free to proceed in its own way and in its own time, without reference to the proceedings in the other court. Whenever a judgment is rendered in one of the courts and pleaded in the other, the effect of that judgment is to be determined by the application of the principle of res adjudicata by the court in which the action is still pending...." Kline v. Burke Constr. Co., 260 U.S. 226, 230, 43 S.Ct. 79, 67 L.Ed. 226 (1922). Therefore, it may not be sufficient that state actions risk some measure of inconvenience or duplicative litigation. In re Baldwin-United Corp., 770 F.2d 328, 337 (2d Cir.1985). An injunction may issue, however, where "the state court action threatens to frustrate proceedings and disrupt the orderly resolution of the federal litigation." Winkler v. Eli Lilly & Co., 101 F.3d 1196, 1202 (7th Cir.1996). In other words, the state action must not simply threaten to reach judgment first, it must interfere with the federal court's own path to judgment.

In re Diet Drugs, 282 F. 3d 220 (3rd Cir. 2002).

Although the federal courts have jurisdiction over the copyright and interpleader claims, they don't have jurisdiction over Young's breach of contract claim (since he didn't bring it there and the defendants didn't remove it to federal court), and so can't enjoin the state court from moving forward on it.

Moreover, there's no reason that all of these suits can't be litigated at the same time — of all of them, Hachette might have the most urgent claim in the form of the interpleader, since it doesn't know to whom it should pay that million dollars — up until the point of trial. In a case of this nature, the parties have ample resources to persue multiple actions at once, and the copyright claim is indeed a separate and distinct claim from the breach of contract claim.

That said, I think a District Court will likely look very suspiciously at Jacobsen's and Cummings' federal copyright claim. Even if their claim is meritorious, it plainly was a tactical move prompted by Young's state-law breach of contract claim. That's not necessarily wrong but it's also not very compelling; the District Court may decide to "abstain" from hearing the case or, more likely, to "stay" the case pending the conclusion of Young's case.

Nonetheless, the copyright claim obviously impacts the resolution of Young's claim, and the core issue in that copyright — who owns the rights to The Shack — won't be wholly resolved by Young's case, which revolves around the method of payments. There may be some judicial efficiency in having it run a parallel course, since the controversy is unlikely to go away on the resolution of Young's claim alone.

For any law students out there struggling through their Federal Courts class, take a peek at the briefs linked above — they'll tell you as much about Younger and Colorado River abstention as anything else.

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Kenneth Feinberg, whose pro bono publico work in the 9/11 Compensation Fund was widely lauded, is back again administering the $20 billion BP Compensation Fund and is in the middle of a publicity tour on the Gulf of Mexico. C-SPAN just posted a video of him discussing the Fund and his work on it this morning.

Unlike with the 9/11 Fund, though, this time Feinberg is getting paid, and that raises a few questions.

Nobody questions Feinberg's integrity, but the whole point of having a nation of law, not men, is to make everyone accountable to that law, and Professor Byron Stier at the Mass Tort Litigation Blog raises the right issues:

The issue of Feinberg's compensation is interesting. Feinberg worked pro bono on the 9/11 victim compensation fund -- a remarkable and laudable commitment given the substantial time involved. I'm not suggesting that Feinberg should go on doing such monumental administrative tasks pro bono -- but is it appropriate for him to keep his compensation from BP confidential?

As with the 9/11 fund, Feinberg will likely have tremendous discretion in fashioning the administrative claim mechanism for the BP compensation fund. His exercise of discretion could possibly result in BP saving substantial funds, especially if any remainder of the $20 billion fund is to be returned to BP. Accordingly, a fair process at a minimum requires that both the amount of his compensation, and the method of compensation be disclosed publicly. If BP has the ability to review and cut his billable hours or his billable-hour rate, for example, Feinberg might have a conflict of interest that could lead him unconsciously to favor BP in structuring the administrative fund or making awards.

Andrew Perlman at Legal Ethics Forum follows up:

I haven't followed the details of the BP fund, but if there is little or no chance that there will be money in the fund after the awards are made (a seemingly plausible assumption), I'm not sure I see how Mr. Feinberg's behavior could be impacted (consciously or unconsciously) by his compensation.  BP is out the $20 billion regardless of how the proceeds are distributed.  Are there other ways in which Mr. Feinberg's conduct might be affected by how his compensation is structured?

I'm not Feinberg's accountant, but from the little bit I know about his practice — like his role in resolving the multibillion-dollar antitrust suit by AmEx against MBNA — I'm confident that Feinberg is doing quite well financially, and isn't planning on making this Fund into his own retirement. Similarly, in light of his unpaid commitment to the 9/11 Fund, I imagine he values his reputation, not to mention his dignity and integrity, over any quibbling over billable hours that he might get from BP.

On paper, there's no obvious reason for concern. But Roger Ebert's rules for critics comes to mind:

No commercial endorsements. This used to be a given in journalism ethics. A critic must be especially vigilant. If you express approval of a product, you must sincerely believe what you are saying. How will we know you're sincere? Because you have (1) accepted no money, (2) or donated the money to a charity, and (3) have not accepted a free example of the product, except in such cases as foodstuffs, where the difficulties are apparent. You gotta eat 'em to review 'em. The Sun-Times has a policy: All Christmas gifts must be returned, except for perishables like papayas, etc. Candy is not a perishable. Neither, to the incredulity of many reporters, is liquor. Back to endorsements. Were I to recommend, say, a rice cooker, that must not imply I obtained it for free, or that 100 lb. sacks of rice were being dropped at my door. I mention this because I may be compelled to recommend a rice cooker in the very near future, in defense of my Who's Who entry, which claims I can cook almost anything in a rice cooker.
...

No advertisements. Gene Siskel, who I frequently quote as a fierce paragon of high standards, used to quote what someone, maybe it was David Mamet, told him: "As a critic, everything you say depends on your credibility. When you sell that, somebody else owns it." Gene and I (regretfully) turned down offers in the extremely low seven figures  from a fast food chain and an airline. "After we retire, then it would be okay," we speculated. Even then, maybe not. Look at Fred Astaire. How many people thought they were paying him for their dance lessons? They look at "Swing Time" on TCM, and say, "There's that bastard who overcharged me for the mambo."

The emphasis of Mamet's quote is mine. Fact is, Feinberg is being paid by BP to run the Fund, and being paid by BP to promote the Fund. That's enough to create the appearance of impropriety.

Among judges, it is unnecessary to demonstrate the reality of impartiality; the paramount concern is the appearance of impropriety:

The goal of section 455(a) is to avoid even the appearance of partiality. If it would appear to a reasonable person that a judge has knowledge of facts that would give him an interest in the litigation then an appearance of partiality is created even though no actual partiality exists because the judge does not recall the facts, because the judge actually has no interest in the case or because the judge is pure in heart and incorruptible. The judge's forgetfulness, however, is not the sort of objectively ascertainable fact that can avoid the appearance of partiality. Hall v. Small Business Administration, 695 F. 2d 175, 179 (5th Cir. 1983). Under section 455(a), therefore, recusal is required even when a judge lacks actual knowledge of the facts indicating his interest or bias in the case if a reasonable person, knowing all the circumstances, would expect that the judge would have actual knowledge." 796 F. 2d, at 802.

Liljeberg v. Health Services Acquisition Corp., 486 US 847, 860-862 (1988)(quoting the Second Circuit).

So it goes with Ken Feinberg.

What will it take to fix that? Personally, I don't think we need to know every detail, but we do need to know more.

I don't need to know exactly how much he is being paid, but I do want to know if it is (a) hourly or fixed and (b) if it is significantly above or below his normal rate. Those two elements could, potentially, create an incentive either to draw out the work or to hurry through the claims to get back to his more profitable work.

Do I think he will do that? No, but that's not the issue: the issue is if it appears that his judgment could be affected by his compensation, and I think it's fair to say such an appearance exists. The victims of the spill — the ones who are being asked to trust his judgment — deserve to know a little more before they sign on.  

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At the WSJ Law Blog:

The U.S. Chamber of Commerce’s Legal Newsline reported on Wednesday that the U.S. Department of Treasury may be about to grant plaintiffs’ attorneys long-sought tax write-offs for the costs associated with fronting contingency-fee lawsuits.

...

Apparently at the heart of the matter is an April letter Sens. Max Baucus (D., Mont.) and Richard Durbin (D., Ill.) sent to Michael Mundaca, assistant secretary for tax policy seeking clarity on the 9^th Circuit ruling in the 1995 case of Boccardo v. Commissioner.

In the Boccardo case, the IRS asserted that out-of-pocket expenses incurred by attorneys on behalf of clients while prosecuting contingency cases are not deductible because the law firm expects reimbursement upon getting a settlement or judgment. The Tax Court agreed.

The 9^th Circuit took up the matter. The letter sums up the ruling like this:

The court “held that attorneys who represent clients in contingency fee cases may treat litigation costs that are paid by the attorneys, such as filing fees and witness expenses as deductible ordinary and necessary business expenses . . . when the attorney and client agree to a specific fee arrangement known as a gross fee contract.”

The IRS issued a memo saying that the ruling applied only to attorneys in the 9^th Circuit. But the Tax Court has since recognized the validity of the decision in at least one other case, according to the letter.

Of course, every other business in American gets to deduct its expenses. Some favored industries, like oil companies, get to deduct more than just their expenses:

Percentage depletion allows an independent oil company to deduct from its taxes about 15 percent from the revenue generated from a well, even if that amount exceeds the well’s total value. This means that oil companies take a deduction as long as a well is producing oil, without regard to how much, or whether, the well is still declining in value. Companies in other industries are only allowed to deduct an amount that represents the decline in their investment’s value that year. The administration expects that eliminating this subsidy to produce budget savings of about $10 billion over 10 years.

That's just one of the goodies Congress doles out to upstanding corporate citizens like BP, which will pay at least $10 billion less in taxes as the result of its own oil spill, since it gets to deduct all of the cleanup costs, the compensation it pays out to victims, and the loss in value of the well.

But not plaintiff's lawyers. The IRS requires that we treat expenses on our cases as actually being profits, since we might, years down the road, recover those costs. (Nevermind that, even then, it's not profit, it's just a recovery of expenses.)

Since small businesses (like law firms) have an effective tax rate around 20-25%, such disparate tax treatment ends up making the costs on plaintiff's litigation one-fifth to one-quarter more than the costs of any other business, including the business of defending the exact same lawsuit.

A little over a year ago I posted about Contingent Fee Business Lawyers As Venture Capitalists, giving a few sample numbers:

A large-damages personal injury / product liability / medical malpractice lawsuit can be done by one or two attorneys and costs below $250,000, with recovery of $5-$10m within 1.5-3 years. That's a big win: you put in $250k out of pocket, likely didn't impair bandwidth, and recovered $2-$4m in attorneys' fees.

The numbers aren't too much different for most small business cases, with breach of contract, unfair competition, etc.

A regional-market antitrust / mid-sized patent infringement case can be done with 3-6 attorneys, $1-$5m in costs, with a recovery of $15-$50m in 2-4 years. Another big win: you put in $1-$5m out of pocket, moderately impaired bandwidth, and recovered $7-$20m in attorneys' fees.

A massive shareholder class action / national antitrust / large patent infringement case can be done with 10-40 attorneys, $10-40m in costs, and a recovery of >$100m in 4-10 years. Think of the Blackberry patent infringement case, which ended with a $612m settlement and over $200m in fees (resulting in profits-per-partner than year over $4m).

As I wrote then, day in and day out, the primary thing a contingent fee law firm does is spend lots of money. In addition to all the normal costs of a business (rent, staff, etc.), you have to pay your attorneys salaries which are competitive in the market, even against hourly billing firms, and you have to dump loads of money and time into cases for experts, motions, discovery, trials, appeals and negotiations, none of which earn you a dime until the very end.

The Duck Boat accident, for example, was a major maritime accident with two wrongful deaths and more than two dozen personal injury claims that will involve two primary defendants (K-Sea and Ride The Ducks) and a handful of their employees. Litigating the Limitation of Liability Act issues like "seaworthiness" will probably take at least a year or two, after which the litigation will begin in earnest, probably lasting another two-to-five years (though possibly more), with costs of at least $1,000,000. Those costs could be doubled or tripled if there's a need to do extensive testing on the seaworthiness of the tugboat or the duck boat. Some sample potential costs:

• renting an identical tugboat and barge to do visibility tests;
• buying a duck boat and then ramming it to see how easily it sinks; and,
• buying a dozen duck boat engines and running them day and night to see how long it takes for them to overheat.

None of that would be unusual or unexpected. Cases against car manufacturers that allege inadequate "crashworthiness" routinely require the destruction of a few identical cars to see how they holdup and how alternative designs would have worked better.

That's where the lack of a tax deduction has a big bite: when most businesses think of "$1 million in costs," they think of them in terms of deductible costs. For a plaintiff's lawyer, then, they have to see "$1 million in costs" as being more like "$1.25 million in costs" to any other business, since the plaintiff's lawyer will be taxed on the costs. Given the time value of money, if we assume the case takes five years, and that the taxes paid could have been invested at a modest 5% annual return, then the lack of a tax deduction adds an additional $320,000 in costs to that $1 million in expenses. If the case costs $3 million on paper, it'll cost $4 million once the lack of a tax deduction is figured in.

In contrast, the defendants and their insurers will be able to immediately deduct every penny they spend on their defense.

Is that fair? Of course not, but it's been the law for years, just another way in which the deck is stacked against plaintiff's lawyers, another reason why we have to be so selective about cases and charge such a large contingent fee.

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