Commons and Growth: The Essential Role of Open Commons in Market Economies

Critics of generative AI often describe it as a “plagiarism machine.” They may be right, though not in the sense they mean. With rare exceptions, generative AI doesn’t just copy someone else’s creative expression, producing outputs that infringe copyright. But it does get its ideas from somewhere. And it’s quite bad at identifying the source of those ideas. That means that students (and professors, and lawyers, and journalists) who use AI to produce their work generally aren’t engaged in copyright infringement. But they are often passing someone else’s work off as their own, whether or not they know it. While plagiarism is a problem in academic work generally, AI makes it much worse because authors who use AI may be unknowingly taking the ideas and words of someone else.

Disclosing that the authors used AI isn’t a sufficient solution to the problem because the people whose ideas are being used don’t get credit for those ideas. Whether or not a declaration that “AI came up with my ideas” is plagiarism, failing to make a good-faith effort to find the underlying sources is a bad academic practice.

We argue that AI plagiarism isn’t—and shouldn’t be—illegal. But it is still a problem in many contexts, particularly academic work, where proper credit is an essential part of the ecosystem. We suggest best practices to align academic and other writing with good scholarly norms in the AI environment.

Beware dark patterns. The name should be a warning, perhaps alluding to the dark web, the “Dark Lord” Sauron, or another archetypically villainous and dangerous entity. Rightfully included in this nefarious bunch, dark patterns are software interfaces that manipulate users into doing things they would not normally do. Because of these First Amendment complications, the constitutionality of dark pattern restrictions is an unsettled question. To begin constructing an answer, we must look at how dark patterns are regulated today, how companies have begun to challenge the constitutionality of such regulations, and where dark patterns fall in the grand scheme of free speech. Taken together, these steps inform an approach to regulation going forward.

In Stop the Beach Renourishment v. Florida Department of Environmental Protection, a plurality of the Supreme Court held that the Takings Clause applies to the judiciary as it does to any government actor. In the more than fifteen years since, none of the sixty courts to consider judicial takings claims have found a judicial taking. In this Comment, Coby Goldberg provides the only comprehensive analysis of the judicial takings caselaw since Stop the Beach, in order to determine why no court has found a judicial taking. Based on this analysis of the caselaw, this Comment suggests that finding a judicial taking is all but impossible. That conclusion does not mean that judicial takings doctrine has had no influence on property jurisprudence in the years since Stop the Beach, however. This Comment identifies three cases in which state courts have used the possibility of judicial takings as reasons not to make decisions that undercut property rights. In those cases, judicial takings doctrine is functioning as something akin to a canon of constitutional avoidance. If decided the other way, none of those three decisions would have avoided actions that would have amounted to judicial takings. This Comment thus concludes that judicial takings doctrine leads to worse outcomes in property law, and so, out of a concern for constitutional problems that never arise, courts reject decisions they would otherwise adopt.