On the Perils of Content Moderation (Part 3 of 3)

Continuing my content moderation story from Part 2:

Despite the blustering and threats, most lawyers understood that the First Amendment protected Avvo’s right to publish its lawyer profiles and ratings, and that it would be pointless to go through with a lawsuit. The published decision in Browne v. Avvo helped as well. So they’d eventually go away. The guardrails of the First Amendment kept them from filing.

And at this point, after 20+ years of extensive litigation, CDA 230 operates in a similar fashion. Sure, there continue to be disputes along the frontier, and there’s always going to be a certain background level of utterly frivolous and SLAPP actions. But for the most part, things operate in a fashion where the rules are settled and suing is pointless. 

Which is why Avvo didn’t get sued for posting third-party content — despite how exercised some lawyers would get over negative reviews.

But what if these lawyers had an argument they could lever? Like, that Avvo’s content moderation had to be “reasonable,” or “neutral?” Or that Avvo could be liable for not adhering to its published content moderation standards?

Were there ANYTHING that would make them think, “well, I’ve gotta chance at this thing,” Avvo would have been buried in lawsuits. And even if we’d been able to turn these suits away on the pleadings, doing so would have been super-expensive.

How expensive? Tech policy shop Engine, in an indispensable primer on the value of CDA 230, estimates that disposing of a frivolous lawsuit on a preliminary motion to dismiss can cost $80,000. And in my experience, it can cost LOTS more than that if the issues are complicated, the plaintiff is proceeding in bad faith, you draw a bad judge, etc, etc.

Now, some internet commenters would say that the way to avoid this risk is to just not do the bad things. But here in the real world, the way companies will avoid this risk (at least until they get big enough to take the costs) will be to either not moderate content (thus destroying the user experience) or simply not post third party content at all.

So, a  cesspool of a user experience on the one hand; a much-lessened interactive internet on the other. Take your pick. 

Bottom line — the clarity that CDA 230 provides is super-valuable in shutting down, at the get-go, anyone who wants to roll the dice on taking your startup out with a little lawfare. And the genius of CDA 230 is that it provides the breathing room for sites to set their own rules, and moderate content using their own discretion, without fear of being punished by the government or subjected to ruinous litigation for so doing.

Perversely, while all of the noise about limiting/eliminating CDA 230 is driven by frustration at Facebook, Google, and other giant platforms, it’s not like neutering the law would even really impact those guys. They’ve got the scale to take the cost of regulation. 

But smaller, newer services? No way. They’d be forced into the loser of a choice I’ve described above: cesspool or wasteland.

Policymakers should think long and hard about the implications for the wider world of innovative online services before even thinking about “tweaks” to CDA 230.

(Part 1, Part 2)

On the Perils of Regulating Content Moderation (Part 2 of 3)

In the first post in this series, I went through the background on CDA 230’s protection for the content moderation decisions of site operators. Today, a story about the implications of adding greater liability in this area — and why exposing sites to liability for their moderation decisions would render unviable most online services that rely on third party content.

From 2007 to 2018 I was general counsel for Avvo, an online resource for people to research legal issues and find lawyers. One of Avvo’s innovations (and the reason it needed a GC from its earliest stages) is that it published  a profile of every lawyer in the country — whether lawyers liked it or not. As those profiles included disciplinary history, Avvo’s rating of the lawyer’s background, and client reviews . . . well, some lawyers didn’t like it.

The week it launched, Avvo was sued in a nationwide class action alleging that Avvo’s editorial rating of attorneys was defamatory. And although that case was thrown out on the pleadings, getting such a result was expensive. In the years that followed, Avvo grew and became more important to consumers and lawyers alike. Despite this, lawyers – often sanctioned lawyers, who disliked the fact that Avvo exposed disciplinary history far more effectively than the websites of the state Bars – tried other vectors of attack. These included consumer fraud, publicity rights, etc. None of these cases survived the pleadings. But pushing back on them wasn’t without cost. These were largely unexplored areas at the intersection of publishing, public records, and commercial speech. Fortunately, Avvo had the resources and was able to aggressively fight back.

But client reviews? For the most part, nobody sued over those. 1

Oh, it wasn’t that every attorney loved their client reviews, or believed that they accurately reflected the services provided. Far from it. For while most reviews ran positive – it turns out people appreciate being gotten out a jam – some, inevitably, did not. It’s a result dictated by the law of large numbers; clients were posting thousands of reviews on Avvo every week. 2

And lawyers certainly threatened to sue Avvo over those reviews. Hundreds and hundreds of times. But CDA 230’s broad and straight-forward language — and its hard-fought litigation history — ensured that the threateners scuttled away, often not even bothering to leave a “SEE YOU IN COURT!” in their wake. 

I sometimes felt like a part-time CDA 230 instructor, educating my fellow members of the bar, one at a time, on the simple brilliance of the 26 words that created the internet.

But what if CDA 230’s protections were hedged? What if Avvo had some obligation to moderate content “reasonably,” or take content down on affidavit or “notice of falsity,” or any of the many other suggested tweaks to the statute?

It would have been game over. 

More on that in the final post in this series.

Notes:

  1. Or, at least they didn’t until very late in Avvo’s run as an independent company, when an attorney tried the angle that California’s unfair trade practices required some sort of judicially-imposed review moderation regime quite at odds with CDA 230. We got the complaint stricken under California’s stellar anti-SLAPP law.
  2. I do recall a single occasion when an attorney – the attorney behind this video, in fact – readily conceded that he’d earned a poor review. Much respect.

On the Perils of Regulating Content Moderation (Part 1 of 3)

You’ll have to forgive social media companies for feeling whiplashed on the policy front.

Should they be forced to determine the truth or falsity of all political ads?

Or should they be forced to carry ALL political ads, regardless of truthfulness?

Should they have to post everything their users post, in the quest for “balance?”

Or should they be forced to eliminate hate speech from their platforms – on pain of jail time?

These proposals are all, to varying degrees, misguided, incoherent, impossible, and just plain bad policy. 

Yet they’re being promoted by lots of influential people. There are bad-faithers in Congress — like Senators Josh Hawley and Ted Cruz — calling for online companies to be neutral platforms, to stop “determining falsity” and “censoring conservatives” and, I guess, just mindlessly publish whatever their users decide to post or include in advertisements.

And on the other hand, you’ve got people like Sasha Baron Cohen — who famously abused the trust and good nature of lots of ordinary people in service of his comedy — calling for social media companies to do ever-more, to moderate more fastidiously, within a set of rules and guidelines the deviation from which may lead to criminal sanctions. 

Obviously, you can’t have it both ways, people.

But here’s the thing: “you must publish it all” and “you must moderate better” are both horrible attempts to constrain online platforms. Besides the glaring First Amendment problems, these types of suggestions carry the not-insignificant consequences of either shutting these platforms down or turning them into absolute sewers.

The beauty of existing law, in the US at least, is that sites are free to make their own determinations about what gets published on their platforms. This is thanks to the “good faith content moderation” section of 47 USC 230(c), otherwise known as “CDA 230.” It’s the companion to CDA 230’s more widely-known feature: immunity from liability for hosting third-party content. 1

CDA 230 provides the breathing room for sites to host third party content to serve their audiences. And while “you’ve got to be a neutral platform” is not a serious objection (if sites were required to publish everything that users throw at them, they would be utterly useless), the idea that sites should be held to government-imposed content moderation rules is more pernicious by virtue of its surface appeal. Why not require that sites moderate away objectionable content?

The rejoinder should be obvious: who gets to determine what’s “objectionable?” 

Unfortunately, there’s never a shortage of people stepping up to take on the censor’s role. 

Or people who blindly react to the fresh outrage of today, forgetting that today’s “cut off the hurtful speech” is tomorrow’s censorship of the powerless.

Or people who poo-poo the problem, confidently stating that surely — SURELY — guardrails can be built to require just the right amount of content moderation.

Calling for greater regulation of online content moderation is a recipe for First Amendment violations and unintended consequences. The specter of liability for “getting content moderation wrong” is spectacularly under-appreciated. In Part 2, I’ll get into the detail about how this plays out in practice.

Notes:

  1. Not without limitation; CDA 230 immunity doesn’t apply to federal crimes or intellectual property claims.

More Speech Rules from the ABA?

Lawyers. Hardly poor cobblers are we; as a profession that deals in the arcana of regulation we seem to delight in larding ever more regulation upon ourselves. The attitude of our profession might be summarized as “if a little regulation is good, then surely more regulation is even better!”

So if diversity — and the encouragement thereof — is a good thing, then the reaction of many in the profession is: let’s have a regulation that requires that. Or, at least, that requires lawyers to do and say things that are supportive of diversity. That’s the core of a proposed new ABA Model Rule 8.5.

It should come as little surprise that I’m skeptical of proposals that add to the weighty-and-crufty mass of rules that govern the practice of law. This is particularly true when it comes to rules that limit or compel professional speech, as this rule would:

As a learned member of society with an ethical obligation to promote the ideal of equality for all members of society, every lawyer has a professional duty to undertake affirmative steps to remedy de facto and de jure discrimination, eliminate bias, and promote equality, diversity and inclusion in the legal profession. 

What does “undertake affirmative steps” mean here? It may mean that expression deemed antagonistic to these goals violates the rule. It may also mean that the failure to engage in expression sufficiently observant of these goals violates the rule. Either way, in making orthodox a particular point of view the proposed Rule represents unconstitutional viewpoint discrimination.

Many lawyers will, of course, make some combination of the argument that “diversity is important, and no one is going to interpret the rules this way anyway.” But the first part of that argument is completely irrelevant, while the second part is provably false. We need look no further than the advertising rules to see how far lawyers and the Bars are willing to stretch the regulatory language — and the chilling effect this has on the speech of lawyers and the ability of audiences to hear that speech.

We need fewer rules governing the practice of law, not more. And as proposals such as this continue to proliferate, we need the Supreme Court to firmly establish a professional speech doctrine making it crystal clear that a license to practice law cannot be conditioned on abandoning one’s free speech rights.

Will SCOTUS Address Professional Speech?

Watching with interest: whether the Supreme Court grants cert in Capital Associated Industries v. Stein, a 4th Circuit decision out of North Carolina addressing the interplay between legal licensing and the First Amendment.

While the Stein decision ultimately decides that regulation of the unlicensed practice of law is subject to intermediate scrutiny – and that the North Carolina UPL regulation meets that standard – the opinion suggests that restricting the provision of legal advice is merely conduct regulation, not speech regulation.

That doesn’t seem remotely right. Legal advice . . . is conduct?

Yes, yes – speech can be conduct under certain limited circumstances. But normally when we’re talking about speech-as-conduct we’re talking about consumer disclosure requirements or the things physicians have to say in order to obtain informed consent from their patients. The speech is such cases is treated as conduct because it’s incidental to the good or service at issue.

But legal advice? That’s speech, and, really, nothing BUT speech.

This is not to say that providing legal advice can’t be regulated — or even that intermediate scrutiny isn’t the right standard by which to judge such regulation (though Widener Law Dean Rodney Smolla makes a compelling case for strict scrutiny).

But it’s sloppy and unhelpful for courts to futz around and conflate concepts like “incidental effects on speech,” “speech-as-conduct,” and “bona fide licensing requirements” when talking about government restrictions on the content of speech. That’s going to continue to happen without a coherent approach to professional speech regulation. It would be great if the Supreme Court took this opportunity to finally sort things out on this, one of least-unexplored frontiers of First Amendment law.

Updated: Nope; cert denied. A shame.

Spineless FTC Goes Weak on Astroturfing

Writing astroturf reviews is WRONG, people. Like, OBVIOUSLY wrong.

So you’d think that if you got caught instructing your employees, in sunny yet oh-so-detailed ways, on how to leave fake positive reviews for your products, you would get more than just a slap on the wrist.

Right?

I mean, that’s what happened to the sorry bastards running Lifestyle Lift, who got smashed by the NY AG’s office to the tune of $300K after creating an elaborate scheme of fake microsites and reviews. Dozens of other companies have also paid 5- and 6 figure sums to settle astroturfing complaints brought by regulators.

But for shlepper of high-end beauty products Sunday Riley? Who gave employees a nine-step guide to writing fake reviews on Sephora’s website (you can read it in all of its hyper-specific, fraud-tastic glory here)? They’ve earned merely a stern talking-to and a “please don’t be naughty again” from the FTC.

Timothy Geigner at Techdirt put it best, describing Sunday Riley’s practices as:

really blatant, really fake, and really shady. This was a coordinated attempt to falsely manipulate the review system of Sephora for the purposes of fooling the public into buying more product.

This wasn’t a foot-fault, a naive error, or a single instance of wrongdoing. It was a calculated effort to fool a public that already has a super-hard time staying informed about the rapidly-evolving skincare industry.

But instead of stomping on this, the FTC basically greenlit further wrongdoing. Its settlement with Sunday Riley doesn’t require payment of any money, agreement to any kind of oversight, or even an admission of wrongdoing. While I’m no fan of agency overreach, this is the kind of factual record that screams out for significant punishment – not this kind of “tsk-tsk” nonsense.

Another “Abortion Counseling” Law Knocked Back

It seems to be an equal opportunity area, the fight to control speech around abortion. Blue states want to force churchy “crisis pregnancy centers” to inform people about its availability, while red states want to force doctors to scare patients away from it.

Thankfully, at least the courts are still thinking about the First Amendment.

Last year, we saw the beatdown of California’s mandatory pregnancy center notification requirement in NIFLA v. Becerra (a case that noted the First Amendment right of the centers to not have to carry the state’s message, but which is also notable for FINALLY opening the door for SCOTUS to flesh out a “professional speech” doctrine).

And today, we’ve got a federal district court in North Dakota blocking a law that would have forced doctors to advise patients about, well, all sorts of nonsense in a transparent attempt to make them fear ending their pregnancies.

Other states have similar laws; expect them to see similar fates.

It’s ironic that the strongest precedent for striking these laws is a Supreme Court case nixing a law where the shoe was solidly on the other foot. But far from surprising — too many policymakers are only opposed to speech restrictions when they’re imposed on the other team.

Are ALL Licensing Restrictions OK Now?

I missed this when it was issued last month, but struck by the result in the del Castillo v Philip case, challenging the application of Florida’s licensing law for dietitians to prevent the sale of diet coaching services by a non-licensee.

While the court is foreclosed from asking the obvious question (“do we really need so many god damn occupational licensing laws?”), it could have, you know, paid a little deference to the First Amendment on its way to depriving Heather Kokesch del Castillo of her right to earn an honest living.

Because maybe I’m reading this wrong, but it seems like the court is saying that ANY entry-to-the-profession licensing requirement inherently does not raise First Amendment issues — even if the profession is fundamentally centered on speech.

And even if the licensing requirement involves having a college degree and at least 6 months of relevant experience.

Look, I understand if the state wants to require a business license and the payment of a nominal fee before someone starts selling services to clients. That seems generally applicable, not speech-impacting, and relevant to prosaic matters like being able to hold businesses accountable for fraud and crappy service.

But it’s another thing entirely when those licensing requirements are extensive – and instead of merely giving the licensees the right to advertise their services as having met a state-sanctioned level of putative quality, prohibit non-licensees from providing any sort of advice and counsel in an incredibly broad area like “diet and nutrition.”

Shouldn’t the court have run this through something like intermediate scrutiny analysis – which likely would have found that the state could have achieved its desired objective through a less-speech-impacting means, such as certification?

I mean, there’s nothing keeping Florida from setting up a fancy “certified dietician” program with these educational and experience requirements. Ms. del Castillo couldn’t call herself one of those, but she would still be free to sell her services. And consumers could choose for themselves. Is there some consumer protection need here that is SO pressing we need to keep diet-interested bloggers from sharing their thoughts on a paid basis?

Here’s hoping the Supreme Court takes this case, and provides some much-needed clarity to the nascent professional speech doctrine.

[and yes, the implications for legal licensing should be obvious]

Is Real Change Finally Arriving to Lawyer Regulation?

Go read Jayne Reardon’s latest, “Re-Regulating Lawyers for the 21st Century,” which provides an excellent overview of a series of attorney regulatory changes being floated in a number of states. While the process in California seems to be attracting the most attention, developments in other states may well outpace it. I wouldn’t have thought it possible a year ago, but Arizona seems to be on the road to doing two things I’ve long called for:

These changes may seem like small potatoes next to proposals like allowing outside investment in law firms. But eliminating these rules should be a much easier proposition, and doing so could unblock a lot of potential innovation in consumer legal offerings.

Louisiana Tired of Lawyer Ads

Well, or maybe business/insurance interests, a coalition of which is calling on the Louisiana Bar to crack down on “misleading” lawyer ads.

Misleading lawyer ads? That sounds bad!

Except those complaining don’t offer any specifics, pivoting seamlessly from “misleading” to the volume of lawyer ads that reach Louisianans. I mean, sure – it’s obviously a bummer when you’re just trying to run a business and your customers are constantly being reminded that they have rights and remedies. But it’s safe to say that this particular issue has been decisively settled in favor of consumers getting more information about legal services.

In an effort to ramp up the pressure, the coalition is pressing a bill through the state legislature that would require the Louisiana Bar to re-evaluate its rules governing attorney advertising.

Hey, study and re-evaluation is always good. Here’s hoping that in so doing the Bar decides that its current rules – which include an advertising review process that is both unconstitutional and anti-competitive – need to actually be simplified in the name of greater flow of information about legal services.