Preliminary Notes on the Pending Case Glawischnig-Piesczek
v. Facebook Ireland Limited
Dr
Paolo Cavaliere, University of Edinburgh Law School,
paolo.cavaliere@ed.ac.uk
Introduction
In the next few months the Court of Justice of the European Union is
expected to deliver a decision with the potential to become a landmark in the
fields of political speech and intermediary liability (the Advocate-General’s
opinion is due June 4). In fact the Court will have to render its
opinion on two intertwining yet distinct questions: first, the case opens a new
front in the delineation of platforms’ responsibility for removing illegal
content, focusing on whether such obligations should extend to content identical,
or even similar to other posts already declared unlawful. Secondly, the
decisions will also determine whether such obligations could be imposed even
beyond the territorial jurisdiction of the seised court. What is at stake is,
in ultimate analysis, how much responsibility platforms should be given in
making proactive assessments of the illegality of third-party content, and how
much power courts should be given in imposing their own standards of acceptable
speech across national boundaries.
Summary of the case
The plaintiff is a former Austrian MP and spokeswoman of the Green
Party who – before retiring from politics – was reported as criticizing the
Austrian Government’s stance on the refugee crisis in an article published by
the news magazine oe24.at in April 2016. A Facebook user shared the article on
her private profile along with her own comment, which included some derogatory
language. In July, the plaintiff contacted Facebook and requested the post to
be removed, only for the platform to decline the request as it did not find the
post in breach of its own terms of use nor of domestic law. The plaintiff then
filed an action for interim injunctive relief seeking removal of the original
post, and of any other post on the platform with ‘analogous’ content. After the
Commercial Court of Vienna found the post unlawful, Facebook proceeded to
remove it.
However, the Court considered that Facebook, by failing to remove
the original post on the plaintiff’s first notice, was not covered by the exemption
from secondary liability and ordered the platform to remove any further post
that would include the plaintiff’s picture alongside identical or ‘analogous’
comments. The Higher Regional Court of Vienna then found that such an
obligation would amount to an obligation of general monitoring on Facebook’s
part and removed the second part of the injunction, while upholding that the
original post was manifestly unlawful and should have been removed by the
platform following the first notification from the plaintiff. The Higher Court
also confirmed that Facebook should remove any future posts that would include
the same derogatory text alongside any image of the plaintiff. Facebook
appealed this decision to the Austrian Supreme Court.
The Court referred to the CJEU two main ranges of questions:
- First, whether it would be compatible with Article 15(1) of the
E-commerce Directive an obligation for host providers to remove posts that are
‘identically worded’ to other illegal content. In case of positive answer, the
Court asks whether this obligation could expand beyond identical content and
include content that is analogous in substance, despite a different wording.
These are ultimately questions concerning the responsibility that platforms can
be given in making their own assessment of what content amounts to unlawful
speech, and what are the limits of “active monitoring”.
- Second, whether national courts can order platforms to remove
content only within the national boundaries, or beyond (‘worldwide’). This is a
question concerning the admissibility of extra-territorial injunctions for
content removal.
Analogous content and
active monitoring
To start with, it needs to be clarified that the dispute focuses
effectively on a case of political speech, only formally concerns a case of
defamation. The post on Facebook was considered by the Austrian court in breach
of Art 1330 of the Austrian Civil Code, which protects individual reputation.
However, the status of the plaintiff, who served as the spokeswoman of a
national political party at the time, gives a different connotation to the
issue. Established case-law of the European Court of Human Rights (Lingens v. Austria,
1986; Oberschlick v. Austria (no.
2), 1997) has repeatedly found that the definition of defamation in relation to
politicians must be narrower than usual and the limits of acceptable criticism wider,
especially when public statements susceptible of criticism are involved. In
this case, the plaintiff had made public statements concerning her party’s
immigration policy: the circumstance is relevant since the ECtHR traditionally
identifies political speech with matters of public interest and requires
interferences to be kept to a minimum. By established European standards the
impugned content here amounts to political commentary, and the outcome of the
case could inevitably set a new standard for the treatment of political speech
online.
While intermediaries enjoy a series of immunities under the
E-commerce Directive, which also notably established a prohibition for state
authorities to impose general monitoring obligations, the 2011
Report of the Special Rapporteur to the General Assembly on the right to
freedom of opinion and expression exercised through the Internet clarified that
blocking and filtering measures are justified in principle when they
specifically target categories of speech prohibited under international law,
and the determination of the content to be blocked must be undertaken by a
competent judicial authority. A judicial order determining the exact words (‘lousy
traitor’, ‘corrupt oaf’, ‘fascist party’) may be an adequately precise guidance
for platforms to operate, depending on how precise the contours of the order
are.
To put the question in a context, the requirement to cancel ‘identical’
content marks the latest development in a growing trend to push platforms to
take active decisions in content filtering. It cannot be neglected that the
issue of unlawful content re-appearing, in identical or substantially
equivalent forms, is in fact becoming increasingly worrisome. In a workshop
held in 2017, delegates from the EU Commission heard from industry stakeholders
that the problem of repeat infringers has become endemic to the point that, for
those platforms that implement notice-and-takedown mechanisms, 95% of notices
reported the same content to the same sites, at least in the context of
intellectual property infringements. If rates of re-posting of content
infringing other personality rights such as reputation can be considered
anecdotally similar, then any attempts to clear platforms of unlawful content
recall the proverbial endeavor of emptying the ocean with a spoon.
Nonetheless, the risk of overstepping the limits of desirable action
is always looming. A paradigmatic example comes from early
drafts of Germany’s Network Enforcement Law, which included a requirement
for platforms to prevent re-uploads of same content already found unlawful – a
provision that closely resembles the one at stake here. The requirement was
expunged from the final version of the statute amid fears of over-blocking and
concerns that automated filters would not be able, at the current state of
technology, to correctly understand the nuances and context of content that is
similar of equivalent at face value, such as irony or critical reference for
instance.
The decision of the German law-makers to eventually drop the requirement
– evidently considered a step too far even in the context of a statute already
widely considered to hardly strike a suitable balance between platform
responsibilities and freedom of expression – is indicative of the high stakes
in the decision that the CJEU faces. A positive answer from the CJEU would mean
a resurgence of this aborted provision on Europe-wide scale.
The idea of platforms’ monitoring of re-uploaded content is being gaining
traction in digital industries for a little while now and is trickling down
into content regulation. In the field of SEO, the concept of “duplicate
content” defines content that has been copied or reused from other Web pages,
sometimes for legitimate purposes (e.g. providing a mobile-friendly copy of a
webpage), sometimes resulting in flagrant plagiarism. Yet definitions diverge
when it comes to the criteria considered: while duplicate content is most
commonly defined
as ‘identical or virtually identical to content found elsewhere on the web’, Google
stretches the boundaries to encompass content that is ‘appreciably similar’. Content
regulation simply cannot afford the same degree of flexibility in defining
‘identically worded’ content, as the criterion of judicial determination
required by the Special Rapporteur and the prohibition of general monitoring
obligations in the E-commerce
Directive exclude it.
In the area of copyright protection, it is in principle possible for
service providers like YouTube to automatically scan content uploaded by
private users and compare it to a database of protected works provided by
rights-holders. In the case of speech infringing personality rights and other
content-based limitations, discourse analysis is necessary to understand the
context, and this kind of task would evidently amount to a private intermediary
making a new determination on the legality of the speech.
The assessment of what amounts to unlawful speech rarely depends on
the sole wording; context plays a fundamental role in the assessment, and that
is all but a straightforward exercise. The European Court of Human Rights’
case-law includes several examples of complex evaluations of the local
circumstances to determine whether or not an interference with speech would be
justified.
For instance, in the case of Le Pen v. France (2010),
the Court considered that comments, that could seem at face value derogatory
towards a minority, needed anyway to be considered in the context of an ongoing
general debate within the Country, and stressed that the domestic courts should
be responsible for assessing the breadth and terms of the national debate and how
to take it into account when determining the necessity of the interference. In Ibragimov v. Russia (2018),
the Court noted that the notion of attack on religious convictions can change
significantly from place to place as no single standard exists at the European
level and, similar to political debates in societies, domestic authorities are
again best placed to ascertain the boundaries of criticism of religions ‘[b]y
reason of their direct and continuous contact with the vital forces of their
countries’. The historical context is consistently taken into account to
determine whether a pressing social needs exist for a restriction, and is
enough to justify different decisions in respect to speech that otherwise
appears strikingly similar.
For instance, outlawing Holocaust denial can be a legitimate
interference in countries where historical legacies justify proactive measures
taken in an effort to atone for their responsibility in mass atrocities (see Witzsch v. Germany (no.
1), 1999; Schimanek v. Austria,
2000; Garaudy v. France,
2003); whereas a similar statute prohibiting the denial of the Armenian
genocide would be an excessive measure in a country like Switzerland with no
strong links with the events in 1915’s Ottoman Empire (Perinçek v.
Switzerland, 2015).
The intricacies of analysing the use of language against a specific
historical and societal context are perhaps best illustrated by the Court’s
minute analysis in Dink v. Turkey
(2010). The Court was confronted with expressions that could very closely
resemble hate speech: language such as ‘the purified blood that will replace
the blood poisoned by the “Turk” can be found in the noble vein linking
Armenians to Armenia’, and references to the Armenian origins of Atatürk’s
adoptive daughter, were included in articles written by the late Turkish
journalist of Armenian origin Fırat Dink.
The Court eventually came to the conclusion that it was not Turkish
blood that Dink referred to as poison, but rather attitudes of the Armenian
diaspora’s campaign which he intended to criticise. The Court built extensively
on the assessment made by the Principal State Counsel at the Turkish Court of
Cassation – who analysed all Dink’s articles published between 2003 and 2004 –
in order to be able to ascertain whether these expressions amounted to denigrating
Turkishness, and in what ways references to blood and the origins of Atatürk’s daughter
amounted to sensitive subjects in Turkish ultranationalist circles and were
susceptible to ignite animosity.
Not only social and political context matters, often it is precisely
the use of language in a culturally specific way that forms a fundamental part
of the Court’s assessment, with the conclusion that words alone have little
importance and it is instead their use in specific contexts that determines
whether or not they cross the boundaries of lawful speech. In Leroy v. France (2008),
the Court went to great lengths in evaluating the use of the first person
plural “We” and a parodistic quote of an advertising slogan to establish that a
cartoon mocking the 9/11 attacks amounted to hate speech.
Beyond the Court’s experience, examples of words that, though
otherwise innocuous, can become slurs if used in a certain context abound: for
instance, the term ‘shiptari’ in Southern Slavic-speaking countries to indicate
Albanians especially in Serbia acquires a particularly
nasty connotation as it was often used by Slobodan Milošević to show
contempt of the Albanian minority in Yugoslavia. In Greece, the term lathrometanastes (literally ‘illegal
immigrants’) has been appropriated and weaponised by the alt-right rhetoric to
purposefully misrepresent the legal status of asylum seekers and refugees in an
attempt to deny them access to protection and other entitlements, and now
arguably lies outside of the scope of legitimate political debate,[1] to the point
that it has been included in specialised
research on indicators of intolerant discourse in European countries.
This handful of examples shows how language needs to be understood
in the context of historical events and social dynamics, and can often convey a
sense beyond their apparent meaning. While for domestic and supranational
courts this seems challenging enough already, the suggestion that it would
suffice for platforms to just check for synonyms and turns of phrases in a
mechanical fashion is simplistic at best.
Extraterritorial
injunctions
This plain observation calls into question whether it would be
appropriate for the CJEU to answer in the positive the question on
extra-territorial injunction. The Austrian Court’s order is in fact addressed
towards an entity based outside the Court’s territorial jurisdiction and the
order sought is to operate beyond the Austrian territory. To clarify, the
novelty here resides not on the seising of Austrian courts, but rather on the expansive
effect of their decision; the question concerns whether it would be appropriate
for the effects of the injunction sought to extend beyond the limits of the
national jurisdiction and effectively remove content from Facebook at the
global level.
The Court of Justice has already interpreted jurisdiction in a
similarly expansive way on a few occasions. In L’Oréal
v. eBay (2011) the Court decided to apply EU trade-mark law on the
basis that trade-mark protected goods were offered for sale from locations
outside the EU but targeted at consumers within the EU. In Google
Spain (2014), the Court decided to apply EU data protection law to the
processing of a European Union citizen’s personal data carried out ‘in the
context of the activities’ of an EU establishment even if the processor was
based in a third country. The Court considered that delimiting the geographical
scope of de-listings would prove unsatisfactory to protect the rights of the
data subjects. A similar reasoning was the basis for deciding in Schrems
(2015) that EU data protection law should apply to the transfer of personal
data to the US.
One common element emerges from the case-law of the Court of Justice
so far, in that the extraterritorial reach of court orders seems to be a
necessary measure to ensure the effectiveness of EU rules and the protection of
citizens’ or businesses’ rights. The Court has been prepared to grant
extraterritorial reach when fundamental rights of European Union citizens were
at stake (for instance in the context of processing of personal data) or when,
in case of territorially protected rights such as trade marks, a conduct
happening abroad was directly challenging the protected right within the
domestic jurisdiction. It is dubious that the case at stake resembles either of
these circumstances; in fact limiting political speech requires a different
analysis.
A politician certainly is entitled to protect their own reputation,
however when the criticism encompasses aspect of an ongoing public debate, the
limits of acceptable speech broaden considerably: whether the speech falls
within, and contributes to, an ongoing social conversation is very much a
factual and localised consideration. Conversations that are irrelevant or even
offensive within one national public sphere could very well be of the utmost
relevance to communities based elsewhere, especially minorities or diasporas,
who could find themselves deprived of their fundamental right to access information.
The CJEU has traditionally paid attention to connecting factors
justifying extraterritorial orders. Following its own jurisprudence, it will
now be faced with the challenge of identifying a possible connecting element to
justify a worldwide effect of the Austrian Court’s local assessment. It needs
to be recalled that a fundamental tenet of L’Oréal
is the principle that the mere accessibility of a website is not enough a
reason to conclude that a jurisdiction is being targeted, and it is for
national courts to make the assessment. With the exception of the ECtHR that applies
to date one of the most expansive jurisdictional approaches (Perrin, 2005), international
policy-makers (such as for instance the UN Special Rapporteur on Freedom of
Opinion and Expression, the OSCE Representative on Freedom of the Media, the
OAS Special Rapporteur on Freedom of Expression and the ACHPR Special
Rapporteur on Freedom of Expression and Access to Information’s Joint Declaration on Freedom of
Expression and the Internet of 2011, among others) and most courts favour a
different approach inspired to judicial self-restrain, and put emphasis on a ‘real
and substantial connection’ to justify jurisdiction over Internet content.
When personality rights are at stake, the recent CJEU decision in Bolagsupplysningen
of 2017 (incidentally, derogating from the more established CJEU decisions in Shevill,
1995, and eDate,
2011) suggested that, when incorrect online information infringes personality
rights, applications for rectification and/or removal are to be considered single
and indivisible, and a court with jurisdiction can rule on the entirety of an
application.
However, this precedent (already controversial in its own right) seems
unfit to apply to this case. Bolagsupplysningen
builds at least on the same rationale as in the other decisions of the CJEU
mentioned above, that expansive jurisdiction can be justified by the necessity
to guarantee the protection of citizens’ fundamental rights and not to see them
frustrated by a scattered territorial application. In the case of political
speech, where limitations need to be justified by an overriding public
interest, such as typically public safety, the connecting element the Court
looks for becomes immediately less apparent, as it cannot be assumed that the
same speech would prove equally inflammatory in different places under
different social and political circumstances. In other words, public order
better lends itself to territorially sensitive protection.
This taps into the assessment of the necessity and proportionality
of the measure that decision-makers need to make before removing content. As a
matter of principle, the geographical scope of limitations is part of the least
restrictive means test: the ECtHR for instance in Christians Against
Fascism and Racism (1980) considered that even when security
considerations would outweigh the disadvantage of suppressing speech and thus
justify the issue of a ban, said ban would still need a ‘narrow circumscription
of its scope in terms of territorial application’ to limit its negative side
effects. Similarly, the 2010 OSCE/ODIHR
– Venice Commission Guidelines
on Freedom of Peaceful Assembly (as quoted by the ECtHR in Lashmankin v. Russia
of 2017) consider that ‘[b]lanket restrictions such as a ban on assemblies in
specified locations are in principle problematic since they are not in line
with the principle of proportionality which requires that the least intrusive
means’, and thus restrictions on locations of public assemblies need to be
weighed against the specific circumstances of each case. Translated in the context
of digital communications, the principle requires that the territorial scope of
content removal orders is narrowly circumscribed and strictly proportionate to
the interest protected. An injunction to remove commentary on national politics
worldwide, as a result, seems unlikely to be considered the least intrusive
means.
Conclusions
The decision of the CJEU has the potential to change the landscape
of intermediary responsibility and the boundaries of lawful speech as we know
them. By being asked to remove content that is identical or analogous,
intermediaries will be making, in all other cases other than removing mere
copies of posts that have already been found illegal, active determinations on
the legality of third-party content. While the re-upload of illegal content is
an issue of growing importance that needs to be addressed, consideration needs
to be paid as to whether this would be an appropriate measure, as solutions
borrowed from other fields like copyright protection can sit at odds with the
specificities of content regulation and infringe on European and international
standards for the protection of freedom of expression online.
Similarly, by granting an extraterritorial injunction in this case
the Court would follow a stream that has been emerging in the last few years in
privacy and data protection. Thanks to extraterritorial reach, the GDPR is
rapidly becoming a global regulatory benchmark for the processing of personal
data, which arguably benefits European Union citizens and protects their
relevant fundamental rights. The same could not be true if this rationale would
be applied to standards of legitimate political speech. It is questionable
whether the EU (or any other jurisdiction) bears any interest in setting a
global regulatory benchmark for content regulation. By restricting the
accessibility of content beyond the national boundaries where the original
dispute took place, it would restrict other citizens’ right to receive
information without granting any substantive benefit, such as protecting public
security, to the citizens of the first state.
Barnard
& Peers: chapter 9
Photo credit: Slate magazine
[1] L. Karamanidou (2016) ‘Violence against migrants in
Greece: beyond the Golden Dawn’, Ethnic and Racial Studies, 39:11, 2002-2021; D.
Skleparis (2016) ‘(In)securitization and illiberal practices on the fringe of
the EU’, European Security, 25:1, 92-111.
Our society is at a tipping point, and we need to remember the importance of free expression, as it the only thing that keeps away from tyrannical rule. Like any time in history, new mediums for communication can be scary, but limiting free expression has never been the answer. Sometimes we need to realize that our problems stem from our people and our societies. You regulate social media, and the same speech will pop up somewhere else. People simply need to change - whether that is possible is not clear.
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