Category: News Feeds

Zimbabwe is more than $1.2 billion in arrears to the World Bank, African Development Bank and European Investment Bank, making it ineligible for funding or debt forgiveness from global lenders.

The World Bank spokesman said that while Zimbabwe and other countries indebted to the lender could not access regular financing, they could get money from its trust funds to fight the coronavirus that has slowed down the global economy.

“The bank’s senior management has underlined the need for additional trust fund financing to ensure that Zimbabwe and the small group of other countries in arrears can receive support as part of our global effort to help countries respond to the COVID-19 crisis,” the spokesman said.

Zimbabwe would get $5 million from the World Bank’s global financing facility trust and another $2 million would be diverted from funds meant to help the country recover from a devastating cyclone in 2019.

“We recognise this is a global crisis that impacts every country and we cannot leave anyone behind in our response,” the spokesman said.

Zimbabwe’s finance minister wrote to the International Monetary Fund and other lenders last month warning that the country was being driven towards a health and economic catastrophe by the coronavirus pandemic because its debt arrears mean it cannot access foreign financing.

The impoverished southern African nation has only recorded 34 cases and four deaths from the coronavirus but analysts say its fragile health system will not be able to handle any surge in infections. (Reporting by MacDonald Dzirutwe Editing by Mark Heinrich)

Post published in: Featured

Zimbabwe is in the grips of its worst food crisis in four decades with close to half of its population facing hunger in 2020. Picture: REUTERS/PHILIMON BULAWAYO

While you might have thought lawyers were always high-priced mercenaries, the cost of legal advice was historically modest. What Supreme Court opinion blew the lid off lawyer fees, ushering in dominance of the billable hour?

Hint: Prior to this 1975 opinion, firms had to contend with state regulations capping fees and the push for a billable hour as an academic concept had only achieved traction within the prior 15-20 years.

See the answer on the next page.

I don’t know what you’re doing with whatever free time you have while being at home. Some states have loosened restrictions, some have adopted some loosening. California is very slowly loosening some restrictions, with some counties letting go of all restrictions due to their rural nature (the state is not all SF and LA). What have I been doing? I’m watching a bunch of CLE programs, offered by law firms and CLE providers either at little or no cost. Free is always good, and even though I just reported my CLE hours in January, there’s nothing wrong with getting started on the next tranche of CLE requirements.

The courses I’ve watched have been varied, all with the consistent thread of the COVID-19 impact on the law, law practice, and society in general. However, what has been different is that in at least two of the courses, they have concluded with pleas for civility (say what?).

I was surprised, as it was like actors breaking the fourth wall. The pleas are not something I’ve heard in CLE courses before. They are earnest pleas by two longtime practitioners (one a former judge) who understand well the “ants in the pants” reaction to either restart or start civil matters, but there will be the need to chill, most likely for an indefinite period of time.

When the courthouse doors are unlocked, and there will be different timeframes probably by state and even by county and perhaps by districts within counties, my nightmare, which I am sure is shared by others, is that the scene will be similar to the running of the bulls in Pamplona, Spain. That annual event, originally scheduled for this July, has been canceled. No one wants to get trampled to death in the race to the courthouse steps.

A stampede by lawyers to file complaints (what about e-filing?), defense lawyers to file motions for summary judgment, and both sides to file contentious discovery dispute motions would not be pretty.

We need to simmer down. We know that civil cases will be at the bottom of the pile, at least for the foreseeable future. We know that criminal, juvenile, and certain other kinds of cases always take priority, as well they should. They always have and they always will. We know that judges will be even more stressed than they already are, giving already bulging dockets — and now more being piled on. Frayed judicial tempers may be more on display than ever before. No one has more than 24 hours in one day.

One retired judge mentioned that her former court is training civil judges to do criminal work. Whether they signed up for that or not is of no matter; that’s where attention will be paid for some time to come.

The whole concept of “in your face” between attorneys is, I hope, a thing of the past. Between face masks and required social distancing, perhaps the pettiness and downright unpleasant behavior exhibited by some attorneys will be extinct. Have you ever tried hollering into a face mask? The hot air expended would probably not be healthy. Have you ever yelled at someone six feet away? How can you be sure that the object of your wrath can even hear you at that distance?

Add to all this upheaval in the courts is what’s happening in Biglaw firms. Yes, I know most lawyers don’t practice in that environment, and sympathy for those in Biglaw may well be in short supply right now. However, especially for the newbies, who had expected upward trajectories in their careers, what has happened recently is definitely a shock to their systems and to the profession as a whole.

For those of us with still some memory, lots of kids (and I say “kids,” because I mean that literally) went to law school in the mid-oughts, and graduated into what had been, up to that point, the worst economy since the Great Depression. It was horrible for these newbie graduates, trying to find jobs, any jobs, even of the nonlawyer variety. Some of them have never had the careers, let alone the opportunities, that they thought they would.

And what happens to efforts, some better than others, to diversify the face of the profession? Some firms have been very earnest in their efforts, some more successful than others, but still a long way to go. What happens now? Rereading this post about the pandemic’s effect on law students is a sobering reminder that today’s law students have already been through tough times, seeing their family members lose livelihoods and homes in the Great Recession. I used to think that the Great Recession should have been called a depression, but what is happening today puts 2008 in the dumper.

I think the profession will eventually come out of this, chastened by our experiences. It’s going to be all about “doing more with less.” It will be on a strict diet, shedding overhead, unnecessary expenses (bye-bye closing dinners) and other things that used to compose a “good life” at Biglaw. Those who are in solos and small firms are used to belt-tightening whenever the need has arisen.

To those who read ATL and are considering law school to ride out the pandemic wave, please read Jordan Rothman’s post and take it to heart. Many lawyers went to law school during the Great Recession because they didn’t know what else to do and have lived to regret their career choices. The job market for lawyers, as bad as it was then, may well be worse in three or four years, given the quantum leaps in technology. It’s not a pretty picture but it may well be the new reality. What I do know is that pleas for civility, while nothing new, take on an even more urgent tone now.

Jill Switzer has been an active member of the State Bar of California for over 40 years. She remembers practicing law in a kinder, gentler time. She’s had a diverse legal career, including stints as a deputy district attorney, a solo practice, and several senior in-house gigs. She now mediates full-time, which gives her the opportunity to see dinosaurs, millennials, and those in-between interact — it’s not always civil. You can reach her by email at oldladylawyer@gmail.com.

COVID-19 has greatly affected the legal process. As attorneys we constantly receive notices of court adjournments, video conferences, and telephone calls, in lieu of in-person hearings and filings. In the field of trusts and estates, these changes are felt deeply, as probate and administration matters are delayed, estate settlements postponed, and  guardianships and conservatorships — proceedings that affect those most vulnerable in our society — are rescheduled.

Since 2008, pop superstar, Britney Spears, has been the subject of a California conservatorship. A conservator or guardian is a remedy used when an individual is unable to provide for her personal or financial needs. Spears’s father Jamie Spears, and attorney Andrew M. Wallet were the originally appointed co-conservators charged with managing her financial and personal affairs. In 2019 Wallet resigned, and Spears’s father stepped down in September 2019 due to personal reasons. Jodi Pais Montgomery, a licensed professional fiduciary, is serving as Spears’ temporary guardian.

Court papers signed by Judge Brenda Penny of the Los Angeles County Superior Court indicate that Montgomery will serve as temporary guardian until at least August 22, 2020. On the docket is a hearing to determine the state of the conservatorship which likely includes whether it should continue. Due to COVID-19 and the closing of courts, the hearing, which was supposed to have already occurred, is adjourned due to the risk of spreading the disease during this epidemic. Spears’s proceeding is one of many guardianship hearings adjourned due to COVID-19. Spears, unlike many, has a temporary conservator in place, maintaining the status quo.

Spears’s conservatorship proceeding was commenced following years of erratic incidents such as her 55-hour marriage to Jason Alexander, shaving of her head, tumultuous marriage and divorce from Kevin Federline, and rehab.  Since the implementation of the conservatorship Spears has had periods of success, both personally and professionally. She is the mother two sons, headlined her own Las Vegas show, judged X Factor, is reportedly worth upwards of $50 million, and has had a relationship with Sam Asghari for several years.

Conservatorships, referred to as guardianships in some jurisdictions, can be indefinite or for a set period of time. Often an individual under a conservatorship will petition the court to end or reduce the powers associated with the arrangement. This can be the case after an acute disability ends or when an individual recovers from illness. For chronic or progressive disabilities, it is harder to end. The question that the court will decide is whether danger will emerge as a result of the suspension of  the current arrangement. Has Spears recovered or is she doing well because of the arrangements put in place by the conservator? The court may consider what can be done in order to make the conservatorship as least restrictive as possible.

Court adjournments, even in the age of COVID-19, do not normally make the news. Besides Spears’s tremendous fame and popularity, the existence of a conservatorship for her, now at 37 years old, is of interest to many, whether or not they know her songs or follow her on Instagram. Moreover, Spears’s very public engagement with her fans through social media is constantly placing her in the news and providing fodder for which people can assess whether she needs some kind of supervision. For example, a recent Instagram post revealed that she accidentally burned down her gym by way of unattended candles. Happily, Britney reported, all is well and no one was hurt. That post was followed by news outlets reporting the adjournment of her hearing, reminding us all of how complicated a conservatorship, especially this one, can be.

Cori A. Robinson is a solo practitioner having founded Cori A. Robinson PLLC, a New York and New Jersey law firm, in 2017. For more than a decade Cori has focused her law practice on trusts and estates and elder law including estate and Medicaid planning, probate and administration, estate litigation, and guardianships. She can be reached at cori@robinsonestatelaw.com.

The low thrum that ran through creative corridors in Brooklyn, Austin, Portland, and beyond last month was the sound of scores of photographers and other creators smashing the switch that converted their Instagram accounts to the once-shunned “private” mode.

This mass action was the begrudging result of a court decision emanating from the Southern District of New York. This decision, Sinclair v. Ziff Davis, LLC; Mashable, Inc., held that Instagram, though a series of convoluted and poorly worded, online-only agreements, had the right to exploit its users’ content in any way it saw fit. Worse, as found by the court, these agreements automatically granted a sub-license to exploit Instagram users’ content to just about anybody on the internet. In other words, the entire world.

Stephanie Sinclair, the plaintiff in the case, was an award-winning photographer known for tackling gender issues who created a resonant work addressing child marriage in Guatemala. The defendant was Mashable, a website for which Ziff Davis seems to have paid a mere 50 million bucks back in 2017 before abruptly relieving it of a chunk of its staff. The site has since published a lot of reposted material and clickbait, including an “article” that incorporated one of Sinclair’s works from Guatemala. A Mashable writer reached out to Sinclair to seek consent to do so, but Sinclair declined. Mashable, though, ignored her wishes and forged ahead with publishing her work, in apparent violation of her copyrights.

The court, for its part, found Mashable’s publication without consent to be proper on the basis that Sinclair had posted the work on Instagram at some point. It concluded, in essence, that if one posts a photograph to Instagram, then any other user of Instagram can later publish that work anywhere and in any context it wants, so long as it “embeds” the photograph with the Instagram frame. Per the decision, this third-party user can add your original work to a clickbait website in a thicket of banner and pop-up ads or to a softcore hate or pornography site. Your right to control your work, per this decision, goes up in smoke once you post your work on Instagram.

Sinclair, of course, represents a single nonbinding district court decision, and one that conflicts with Agence France Presse v. Morel, the long-standing precedent that rejected the same “social-media sub-license for the entire internet” defense that was favored in Sinclair. Morel analyzed Twitter’s online terms, which “grant[ed] [Twitter] a worldwide, non-exclusive, royalty-free license (with the right to sublicense),” and correctly found that the sub-license did not extend to everyone on the internet that happened to log on to Twitter. Morel’s analysis is not distinguished or addressed in any way in Sinclair.

The Sinclair analysis is further flawed for a quartet of compelling reasons.

First, there is a question as to whether Instagram’s “browsewrap” license even bound Sinclair. The various pages of sloppily interwoven legal terms that a user putatively agrees to when signing up for Instagram are located on discrete pages that are only accessible by exiting the sign-up page via link. And there is no requirement that the user visit that page, let alone read the terms, before using Instagram. The Second Circuit has previously held, in Specht v. Netscape Commc’ns Corp., 306 F.3d 17, 32 (2d Cir. 2002), that “where consumers are urged to [take certain action] at the immediate click of a button, a reference to the existence of license terms on a submerged screen is not sufficient to place consumers on inquiry or constructive notice of those terms.” That would seem to apply here, in which case Sinclair would not be bound to Instagram’s confusing and onerous terms, including the license, in the first place.

Second, the Sinclair court collapses and conflates Instagram’s Platform Policy with Instagram’s Terms. The latter arguably applies to users of Instagram like Sinclair and are referenced on the user sign-up screen. The Platform Policy is not referenced on the user sign-up screen and is intended not for general users of the site who post photographs, like Sinclair, but for third-party developers, app companies, and publishers who want to exploit Instagram’s API to republish Instagram content on third-party apps and sites. And, crucially, much of the third-party sub-license language relied upon by the Sinclair court to divest Sinclair of her rights resides in the Platform Policy.

This is troubling because Sinclair, like most photographers, did not appear to use Instagram’s API. And the very first line of the Platform Policy makes clear whom it binds: “By using the Instagram Platform, you agree to this policy.” And the “Platform” is defined not as the Instagram site but as “a set of APIs, SDKs, plugins, code,” and other technology through which data can travel between Instagram and third-party apps and sites. The Platform Policy has nothing to do with a photographer who simply uploads photographs to Instagram, yet it was used to force Sinclair into an unwanted sub-license.

Third, in order to qualify for the Instagram sub-license under the Platform Policy, the third-party user (Mashable here) is required by various provisions of the Instagram agreements to “compl[y] with owners’ requirements or restrictions.” And companies like Mashable are admonished not to “use the Instagram Platform to simply display User Content[.]” Mashable failed to meet these and other conditions in Instagram’s terms, yet the Sinclair court still allowed it to qualify for a sub-license.

Finally, and crucially, assuming that Sinclair was bound by Instagram’s terms, and setting aside that Sinclair was not using Instagram’s API, and excusing Mashable’s failure to abide by the Platform Policy’s conditions, there was no evidence in the Sinclair record that Instagram ever exercised its right to sub-license Sinclair’s photograph to Mashable.

A sub-license right, like most contractual rights, need to be exercised, particularly when they supposedly benefit a third-party. The Sinclair court found that “Instagram validly exercised [its sublicense] right by granting Mashable a sublicense to display the Photograph.” This circular analysis completely elides the step of “how” Instagram exercised this right, as there is no citation to the Instagram agreements or identification of any actions taken by Instagram. And this elision undermines the entire analysis because Instagram’s Platform Policy states that users of its API “don’t have any authority to assume or create any obligation for or on behalf of Instagram, express or implied, and [third parties] must not attempt to bind Instagram to any contract.” Instagram took no action to sub-license Sinclair’s work to Mashable. Instead, Mashable in effect bound Instagram to a sub-license with Mashable. The court’s conclusion that there was a valid sub-license violated contract law, copyright law, and Instagram’s express terms.

There are other irksome issues in Sinclair, including that it was decided at the motion to dismiss stage on a spotty record, and, as the court notes, the Instagram terms it applied may not even have been the same terms in effect when Sinclair “agreed” to them by signing up for Instagram, but for now it stands as the most recent case to test just how onerous are the terms of use for social media platforms. This case, or one like it, will eventually wind its way up to the appellate courts, where we will get further elucidation. For the time being, though, it may be in the best interests of creative professionals who use Instagram to go private or go home.

Scott Alan Burroughs, Esq. practices with Doniger / Burroughs, an art law firm based in Venice, California. He represents artists and content creators of all stripes and writes and speaks regularly on copyright issues. He can be reached at scott@copyrightLA.com, and you can follow his law firm on Instagram: @veniceartlaw.

“I’ll direct your attention, to another time in history, in the Korematsu decision, where the court said the need for action was great and time was short and that justified, and I’m quoting, ‘assembling together and placing under guard all those of Japanese ancestry in assembly centers’ during World War II.”

Because in the mind of Wisconsin Supreme Court Justice Rebecca Bradley, stay-at-home orders during a pandemic are exactly the same as rounding up Japanese Americans in concentration camps.

“Could the secretary, under this broad delegation of legislative power, or legislative-like power, order people out of their homes into centers where they are properly socially distanced in order to combat the pandemic?” she continued, warming to her theme of “a single unelected cabinet secretary” run amok.

Egads, not LEGISLATIVE-LIKE POWER!

The technical term for yesterday’s emergency hearing on the legality of Governor Evers’s Safer at Home Order is a shitshow. Justice Daniel Kelly, who was recently turfed out by Wisconsin voters, referred to his colleague Justice Rebecca Mallet as “Mrs. Mallet.” Justice Bradley cut off Assistant Attorney General Colin Roth to shout incoherently about “tyranny.” And Chief Justice Patience Roggensack objected to an order affecting all residents, since it was only workers in a meatpacking plant getting sick, not “regular folks.”

Yes, really, and yes, that is her actual name.

“(The surge) was due to the meatpacking — that’s where Brown County got the flare. It wasn’t just the regular folks in Brown County.”

You could watch the whole thing here … if you have already watched literally everything else on Netflix, Prime, and Hulu.

Wisconsin’s Republican legislators, fresh off a victory forcing in-person voting during a coronavirus outbreak, have now sued to have the governor’s stay-at-home order declared illegal. And the state’s elected Supreme Court, which currently has a 5-2 Republican majority, agreed to hear it immediately, bypassing the state’s lower courts.

Naturally the hearing was conducted remotely via Zoom to protect the health of the judges. Because bitter irony is not against the law.

As Vox’s Ian Milhiser lays out in detail, Wisconsin’s legislature insists that the health commissioner is obliged to navigate an onerous process involving publication and a ten-day waiting period to invoke any public health measures, all of which can then be overridden by the legislature. This forces the state’s elected officials to disregard the plain meaning of a statute they themselves passed, empowering the health department to “authorize and implement all emergency measures necessary to control communicable diseases” and to “close schools and forbid public gatherings in schools, churches, and other places to control outbreaks and epidemic.” But that statute was last amended in 2015, when they assumed Republican Scott Walker would be governor forever, so obviously it doesn’t count.

And it appears from the hearing that the Wisconsin Supreme Court is inclined to agree with that interpretation.

“My question for you is, where in the Constitution did the people of Wisconsin confer authority on a single, unelected cabinet secretary to compel almost 6 million people to stay at home and close their businesses and face imprisonment if they don’t comply, with no input from the Legislature, without the consent of the people?” Justice Bradley demanded.

“Isn’t it the very definition of tyranny for one person to order people to be imprisoned for going to work, among other ordinarily lawful activities?”

And thus did a woman who throws people in jail and closes businesses for a living protect the people of Wisconsin from the tyrannical exercise of the the state’s public health officials during a viral pandemic. GO BADGERS!

Wisconsin’s Supreme Court Is Going to Use Fox News Arguments to Undo the State’s COVID-19 Restrictions [Slate]
Conservative justices appear skeptical of ‘safer at home’ extension [Wisconsin State Journal]
A Republican lawsuit could force Wisconsin to reopen immediately [Vox]

Elizabeth Dye (@5DollarFeminist) lives in Baltimore where she writes about law and politics.