SB 683: California’s Quiet Rejection of the DMCA—and a Roadmap for Real AI Accountability

When Lucian Grainge drew a bright line—“UMG will not do business with bad actors regardless of the consequences”—he did more than make a corporate policy statement.  He threw down a moral challenge to an entire industry: choose creators or choose exploitation.

California’s recently passed SB 683 does not shout as loudly, but it answers the same call. By refusing to copy Washington’s bureaucratic NO FAKES Act and its DMCA-style “notice-and-takedown” maze, SB 683 quietly re-asserts a lost principle: rights are vindicated through courts and accountability, not compliance portals.

What SB 683 actually does

SB 683 amends California Civil Code § 3344, the state’s right-of-publicity statute for living persons, to make injunctive relief real and fast.  If someone’s name, voice, or likeness is exploited without consent, a court can now issue a temporary restraining order or preliminary injunction.  If the order is granted without notice, the defendant must comply within two business days.  

That sounds procedural—and it is—but it matters. SB 683 replaces “send an email to a platform” with “go to a judge.”   It converts moral outrage into enforceable law.

The deeper signal: a break from the DMCA’s bureaucracy

For twenty-seven years, the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA) has governed online infringement through a privatized system of takedown notices, counter-notices, and platform safe harbors.  When it was passed, Silicon Valley came alive with schemes to get around copyright infringement through free riding schemes that beat a path to Grokster‘s door.

But the DMCA was built for a dial-up internet and has aged about as gracefully as a boil on cow’s butt.

The Copyright Office’s 2020 Section 512 Study concluded that whatever Solomonic balance Congress thought it was making has completely collapsed:

“[T]he volume of notices demonstrates that the notice-and-takedown system does not effectively remove infringing content from the internet; it is, at best, a game of whack-a-mole.”

“Congress’ original intended balance has been tilted askew.”  

“Rightsholders report notice-and-takedown is burdensome and ineffective.”  

“Judicial interpretations have wrenched the process out of alignment with Congress’ intentions.” 
 
“Rising notice volume can only indicate that the system is not working.”  

Unsurprisingly, the Office concluded that “Roughly speaking, many OSPs spoke of section 512 as being a success, enabling them to [free ride and] grow exponentially and serve the public without facing debilitating lawsuits [or one might say, paying the freight]. Rightsholders reported a markedly different perspective, noting grave concerns with the ability of individual creators to meaningfully use the section 512 system to address copyright infringement and the “whack-a-mole” problem of infringing content re-appearing after being taken down. Based upon its own analysis of the present effectiveness of section 512, the Office has concluded that Congress’ original intended balance has been tilted askew.”

Which is a genteel way of saying the DMCA is an abject failure for creators and halcyon days for venture-backed online service providers. So why would anyone who cared about creators want to continue that absurd process?

SB 683 flips that logic. Instead of creating bureaucracy and rewarding the one who can wait out the last notice standing, it demands obedience to law.  Instead of deferring to internal “trust and safety” departments, it puts a judge back in the loop. That’s a cultural and legal break—a small step, but in the right direction.

The NO FAKES Act: déjà vu all over again

Washington’s proposed NO FAKES Act is designed to protect individuals from AI-generated digital replicas which is great. However—NO FAKES recreates the truly awful DMCA’s failed architecture: a federal registry of “designated agents,” a complex notice-and-takedown workflow, and a new safe-harbor regime based on “good-faith compliance.”    You know, notice and notice and notice and notice and notice and notice and…..

If NO FAKES passes, platforms like Google would again hold all the procedural cards: largely ignore notices until they’re convenient, claim “good faith,” and continue monetizing AI-generated impersonations.  In other words, it gives the platforms exactly what they wanted because delay is the point.  I seriously doubt that Congress of 1998 thought that their precious DMCA would be turned into a not so funny joke on artists, and I do remember Congressman Howard Berman (one of the House managers for DMCA) looking like he was going to throw up during the SOPA hearings when he found out how many millions of DMCA notices YouTube alone receives.  So why would we want to make the same mistake again thinking we’ll have a different outcome?  With the same platforms now richer beyond category? Who could possibly defend such garbage as anything but a colossal mistake?

The approach of SB 683 is, by contrast, the opposite of NO FAKES. It tells creators: you don’t need to find the right form—you need to find a judge.  It tells platforms: if a court says take it down, you have two days, not two months of emails, BS counter notices and a bad case of learned helplessness.  True, litigation is more costly than sending a DMCA notice, but litigation is far more likely to be effective in keeping infringing material down and will not become a faux “license” like DMCA has become.  

The DMCA heralded twenty-seven years of normalizing massive and burdensome copyright infringement and raising generations of lawyers to defend the thievery while Big Tech scooped up free rider rents that they then used for anti-creator lobbying around the world.  It should be entirely unsurprising that all of that litigation and lobbying has lead us to the current existential crisis.

Lucian Grainge’s throw-down and the emerging fault line

When Mr. Grainge spoke, he wasn’t just defending Universal’s catalog; he was drawing a perimeter around normalizing AI exploitation, and not buying into an even further extension of “permissionless innovation.”

Universal’s position aligns with what California just did. While Congress toys with a federal opt-out regime for AI impersonations, Sacramento quietly passed a law grounded in judicial enforcement and personal rights.  It’s not perfect, but it’s a rejection of the “catch me if you can” ethos that has defined Silicon Valley’s relationship with artists for decades.

A job for the Attorney General

SB 683 leaves enforcement to private litigants, but the scale of AI exploitation demands public enforcement under the authority of the State.  California’s Attorney General should have explicit power to pursue pattern-or-practice actions against companies that:

– Manufacture or distribute AI-generated impersonations of deceased performers (like Sora 2’s synthetic videos).
– Monetize those impersonations through advertising or subscription revenue (like YouTube does right now with the Sora videos).
– Repackage deepfake content as “user-generated” to avoid responsibility.

Such conduct isn’t innovation—it’s unfair competition under California law. AG actions could deliver injunctions, penalties, and restitution far faster than piecemeal suits. And as readers know, I love a good RICO, so let’s put out there that the AG should consider prosecuting the AI cabal with its interlocking investments under Penal Code §§ 186–186.8, known as the California Control of Profits of Organized Crime Act (CCPOCA) (h/t Seeking Alpha).

While AI platforms complain of “burdensome” and “unproductive” litigation, that’s simply not true of enterprises like the AI cabal—litigation is exactly what was required in order to reveal the truth about massive piracy powering the circular AI bubble economy. Litigation has revealed that the scale of infringement by AI platforms like Anthropic and Meta is so vast that private damages are meaningless. It is increasingly clear these companies are not alone—they have relied on pirate libraries and torrent ecosystems to ingest millions of works across every creative category. Rather than whistle past the graveyard while these sites flourish, government must confront its failure to enforce basic property rights. When theft becomes systemic, private remedies collapse, and enforcement becomes a matter for the state. Even Anthropic’s $1.5 billion settlement feels hollow because the crime is so immense. Not just because statutory damages in the US were also established in 1999 to confront…CD ripping.

AI regulation as the moment to fix the DMCA

The coming wave of AI legislation represents the first genuine opportunity in a generation to rewrite the online liability playbook.  AI and the DMCA cannot peacefully coexist—platforms will always choose whichever regime helps them keep the money.

If AI regulation inherits the DMCA’s safe harbors, nothing changes. Instead, lawmakers should take the SB 683 cue:
– Restore judicial enforcement.  
– Tie AI liability to commercial benefit. 
– Require provenance, not paperwork.  
– Authorize public enforcement.

The living–deceased gap: California’s unfinished business


SB 683 improves enforcement for living persons, but California’s § 3344.1 already protects deceased individuals against digital replicas.  That creates an odd inversion: John Coltrane’s estate can challenge an AI-generated “Coltrane tone,” but a living jazz artist cannot.   The Legislature should align the two statutes so the living and the dead share the same digital dignity.

Why this matters now

Platforms like YouTube host and monetize videos generated by AI systems such as Sora, depicting deceased performers in fake performances.  If regulators continue to rely on notice-and-takedown, those platforms will never face real risk.   They’ll simply process the takedown, re-serve the content through another channel, and cash another check.

The philosophical pivot

The DMCA taught the world that process can replace principle. SB 683 quietly reverses that lesson.  It says: a person’s identity is not an API, and enforcement should not depend on how quickly you fill out a form.

In the coming fight over AI and creative rights, that distinction matters. California’s experiment in court-centered enforcement could become the model for the next generation of digital law—where substance defeats procedure, and accountability outlives automation.

SB 683 is not a revolution, but it’s a reorientation. It abandons the DMCA’s failed paperwork culture and points toward a world where AI accountability and creator rights converge under the rule of law.

If the federal government insists on doubling down with the NO FAKES Act’s national “opt-out” registry, California may once again find itself leading by quiet example: rights first, bureaucracy last.

Chronology: The Week in Review: TikTok has a Napster Problem; @Helienne on Spotify’s new free goods; @MarshaBlackburn’s tour de force

When Universal withdrew from TikTok, the social media company was suddenly thrown back to its pirate-site roots, at least for the Universal catalog of all sound recordings and many, many songs. The eponymous TikTok is now on the clock to take down or mute Universal’s entire catalog. So tick tock baby.

Universal head Lucian Grainge made the case for the company’s approach to terminating its TikTok license because his negotiators were unable to reach a meeting of the minds with the other side. Pretty simple, really. This is not a big deal, it happens every day. Because in a free market capitalist system, “fair” is where we end up. Which means you have to end up somewhere, including nowhere.

Lucian made that case in an open letter to artists and songwriters as a community. There are some great nuggets in that letter, but I like this section to explain the casus belli:

The terms of our relationship with TikTok are set by contract, which expires January 31, 2024. In our contract renewal discussions, we have been pressing them on three critical issues—appropriate compensation for our artists and songwriters, protecting human artists from the harmful effects of AI, and online safety for TikTok’s users.

We have been working to address these and related issues with our other platform partners.  For example, our Artist-Centric initiative is designed to update streaming’s remuneration model and better reward artists for the value they deliver to platforms.  In the months since its inception, we’re proud that this initiative has been received so positively and taken up by a range of partners, including the largest music platform in the world.  We’ve also moved aggressively to embrace the promise of AI while fighting to ensure artists’ rights and interests are protected now and far into the future.  In addition, we’ve engaged a number of our platform partners to try to drive positive change for their users and by extension, our artists, by addressing online safety issues, and we are recognized as the industry leader in focusing on music’s broader impact on health and wellness.

With respect to the issue of artist and songwriter compensation, TikTok proposed paying our artists and songwriters at a rate that is a fraction of the rate that similarly situated major social platforms pay.  Today, as an indication of how little TikTok compensates artists and songwriters, despite its massive and growing user base, rapidly rising advertising revenue and increasing reliance on music-based content, TikTok accounts for only about 1% of our total revenue.

Let’s not forget that TikTok does not have some statutory or other legal or theoretical right to use Universal’s recordings or songs.  Their rights come from one place–their contract with Universal. No Universal contract, no Universal content. (Sorry copyright infringer apologists in the professoriate.).

Contracts have a duration, and when contracts end you negotiate an extension. If you can’t get an extension or a new agreement, remember the clock is ticking and time is running out–fair is where we end up, so one place to end up is nowhere. Stuff happens. Contracts frequently address what happens when the contract is over and the relationship must be unwound, sometimes called post-termination conditions which are just as much of a promise as anything else in the contract even if the duration (or the “term”) of the agreement is over.

The answer to what happened with Universal is simple: TikTok couldn’t close. Mr. TikTok may be a lot of things, but he’s no Blake.

Now that TikTok allowed their Universal deal to spin out of control, the termination clause(s) of their agreement no doubt become effective. If I had to guess, I would guess that TikTok must immediately stop any new uses of Universal content. Then it would not surprise me if TikTok has about 30 days to take it all down so they are on the clock…so to speak. I would also guess (or hope) that Universal has some post term conditions that will protect them from having to take TikTok’s rube deal on DMCA takedowns. The difference between a post term DMCA take down and a bald take down with no pre-existing contract should be that TikTok has a unilateral obligation to police their network for at least a period of time after termination. Failing to do so could leave them open to breach of contract for failing to satisfy post-termination conditions. Or something like that.

Let’s not forget that TikTok started out as a pirate social media site that got retroactive and prospective licenses in settlement of potential copyright infringement lawsuits. If licenses terminate, TikTok is essentially in the same position as it was before the license–at least as to the content that is covered by the terminating license. 

But of course TikTok won’t be in exactly the same position as the status quo ante, because the company is dependent on passing itself off as this inevitable legitimate company, i.e., a licensed platform. That was not the case when TikTok began licensing to avoid mammoth copyright infringement lawsuits. And therein lies the rub. 

TikTok may have a Napster problem. Once you let unlicensed material into a platform, it’s deuced hard to get it out, even if you have license. And as Judge Patel said in granting an injunction against Napster, “I’m sure that anyone as clever as the people who wrote the software in the case are clever enough, as there are plenty or those minds in Silicon Valley to do it, [to] come up with a program that will help to identify infringing items as well.”  

Thank God for the smart people.

So what happens now? Looking to recent history, Spotify was in a similar pre-IPO position when David Lowery and Melissa Ferrick sued the company for massive use of unlicensed songs. This led Spotify to go to Congress to rewrite the copyright laws in order to stop future litigation (called the “Music Modernization Act” with its probably unconstitutional retroactive reach back safe harbor). They were able to do that because of compliant lobbyists and the hunger among the elites for cash money from a Spotify IPO (or more precisely DPO). Plus Congress got to hang out with famous people and generally felt good about it because dissenting views were strangely absent in the mainstream media.

What do you think will happen if TikTok also goes to Congress to change the law to protect their cash cow and undermine artists and songwriters like Spotify did? They may send lobbyists to Capitol Hill with some walking around money, but if you haven’t picked up on it yet, at least half of the Congress despises TikTok. How does TikTok thread that needle?

TikTok’s response reads like it was written by the editorial staff at the People’s Daily:

“It is sad and disappointing that Universal Music Group has put their own greed above the interests of their artists and songwriters.

Despite Universal’s false narrative and rhetoric, the fact is they have chosen to walk away from the powerful support of a platform with well over a billion users that serves as a free promotional and discovery vehicle for their talent.

TikTok has been able to reach ‘artist-first’ agreements with every other label and publisher. Clearly, Universal’s self-serving actions are not in the best interests of artists, songwriters and fans.”

Note to Mr. TikTok and his PR bagmen, that “exposure” angle is not a winner. Not to mention that artists drive their fans to TikTok in huge numbers which is the real “free” promotion as in “uncompensated”. Also, newsflash, there is no free lunch so don’t embarrass yourself by starting the old “free promotion” okie doke. Mr. Tok needs to go home, think about his priorities and try again.

Also, don’t forget that TikTok has to do “blind check” licenses because it lacks the functionality to track and pay royalties, even the broken market centric royalty deal. Blind check licenses are the rough equivalent of an agreement not to sue TikTok rather than an industry standard royalty deal. Over time, it’s likely that the amount of the blind check must increase to compensate for the blindness.

The Universal episode is revealing, however. If TikTok thought they were going to get away with jamming artists because “exposure”, they need to go home and reconsider their life. The situation is completely out of control for one reason–TikTok underestimated Universal’s resolve. And they broke one of the cardinal rules of Business Affairs.

Never let it get to the point that you can’t just write a check.

@helienne’s Panel with Streamers and Label reps about artist centric, streaming fraud and Spotify’s new free goods

I interview Helienne Lindvall about a panel she was on in Europe with reps from Spotify, Deezer and WMG about artist centric implementation, streaming fraud and the new free goods, aka, Track Monetization Eligibility. 

How do you say “Bless your heart” in Mandarin?

If you didn’t watch the Big Tech hearing at the U.S. Senate, you should at least watch Senator Marsha Blackburn’s grilling of Mr. TikTok. Must-see TV.

@CrispinHunt on the TikTok showdown

Just in Time for Senate Hearing, TikTok’s Malthusian Algebra Meets Universal’s Artist Centric Mandate

MTP readers know that I’ve got no time for the scumbags at TikTok and never have. But it’s getting ridiculous and now the company has collided with Universal.

It was only a matter of time.  The artist-centric approach to royalty payments endorsed by Lucian Grainge requires more of the platforms than just rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic.  It requires that the services say goodbye to a flat royalty pool calculated using impenetrable algorithms, formulas, and Malthusian algebra.  

It requires that the services open their checkbooks.  For you pie fans, it requires that the services grow the pie.  And not just for sound recordings, but songwriters, too.

If the collision between TikTok and Universal is any indication, getting past the threshold question is going to be a battle royale.

Here’s the other insulting part:  TikTok apparently wants to be able to create AI works (from whatever source derived) and repopulate their offering with these allegedly royalty free works.  Of course, AI tracks should not be royalty free at all since the AI will inevitably be ripped off from somebody.  

As I understand it, TikTok wants to salt the royalty pool with AI to increase the denominator and lower the per-stream royalty.  This, of course is insane. Whatever you think about AI, before you even get there it should be obvious that only royalty bearing tracks should be in the calculation for paying royalties.  Otherwise, the payments will be understated.  Which is of course what TikTok wants. Which was inevitable as soon as monkeys took photos.

But perhaps even more troubling is TikTok’s apparent refusal to be transparent about what it is doing to stop recruiting for illegal cartel activities, child trafficking and promoting hate speech—especially real porn with fake artists. They could do it but they won’t fix what Lucian calls “the tidal wave of hate speech, bigotry, bullying and harassment on the platform.”

Whatever bright and shiny object TikTok and their legion of lobbyists waive in front of artists, who is willing to have their music used as a honeypot for harmful acts?

It’s time for big changes at TikTok and if they are unwilling to modernize and reimagine their business, those who want to shut them down will be unleashed.  

And may find some new allies.