"Alright, enough with the small talk, let's get straight to the point."
After inviting Ethan and Evelyn to sit down, Barbara Babcock glanced at her wristwatch. Seeing the time, she smiled and said, "It's now 8:05. I have a class at 9, so you've got fifty minutes to get all your questions answered."
Her efficient and brisk manner made Ethan nod slightly in appreciation.
He exchanged a glance with Evelyn, who gestured for him to speak up. Ethan, now serious, said, "Professor Barbara, we're here today mainly to consult you about copyright issues in the video game industry. Does this emerging field enjoy copyright protection? And if so, how can we use the law to protect ourselves?"
Yes, that was the crux of Ethan's visit.
However, feeling that his question sounded somewhat amateurish, or even a little foolish, Ethan quickly added, "Please forgive my ignorance, Professor Barbara, as my knowledge of the law extends only to the fact that it often lags behind technological advancements."
"No need to apologize."
Barbara hummed softly, leaning on the table as she gestured, "Ethan, I understand what you mean, and there's no need to be so formal. In fact, Evelyn already told me about the situation with Mirrora and Atari..."
She paused for a moment, reflecting, before continuing, "Was it about two years ago? When the Nolan Bushnell plagiarism scandal was first exposed? Yes, it was around then that she first sought my advice."
"What?"
Ethan was taken aback and turned to look at Evelyn.
But the girl, lounging on the sofa, remained composed. "I thought you'd need legal help," she said casually, spreading her hands. "If Mirrora were really to sue you, we'd need to counter such rogue behavior with an even more aggressive approach. And none of those second-rate lawyers out there are up to the task."
This revelation left Ethan stunned.
He never would have guessed that, over the past three years, Evelyn—who had always seemed to dislike him—had been quietly pulling strings behind the scenes for his benefit.
"Thank you," Ethan said, feeling a wave of emotion.
But this gratitude wasn't for himself—it was on behalf of the original Ethan Jones.
After all, looking back now, it seemed like that unlucky guy's misfortunes had only compounded!
"Hey! Evelyn! Who are you calling a rogue?"
Their conversation was overheard by Barbara, who instantly raised an eyebrow.
Evelyn, unafraid, stuck out her tongue and leaned in, wrapping her arms around Barbara's. "Oh, Professor Barbara, I was just complimenting how formidable you are!"
"Hmph!" Barbara gave her a stern look but couldn't help breaking into a chuckle, "Alright, alright, stop shaking me. Let's not waste time."
Amid the playful banter, the atmosphere lightened considerably.
Barbara, her expression now gentle, turned to answer Ethan's earlier question, "Ethan, your question is actually quite straightforward. Yes, video games are indeed protected by copyright law."
"However, there's an important caveat to note."
"The copyright law we currently use was established in 1909. Since video games didn't exist back then, they weren't explicitly included in the categories for copyright registration."
"That said, the law was designed with foresight, and provisions were made for unforeseen categories. For instance, our 1909 Copyright Act lists novels, music, plays, and films, as well as 'other published or unpublished works' as protectable under copyright law."
"So, the prevailing understanding in the industry today is that video games fall under the category of 'other works.' In other words, if someone were to plagiarize a video game's content, it would still be protected under the 1909 Copyright Act."
'So that's how it works?'
Barbara's explanation was clear, and Ethan followed along.
But precisely because he understood it so well, his confusion deepened.
Furrowing his brow, he asked, "Professor Barbara, if video games are indeed protected under copyright law, then how did Atari dare to plagiarize Mirrora's game in the first place?"
That was the real reason Ethan sought legal counsel!
In his memory, American copyright law was famously stringent!
Otherwise, there wouldn't be those ridiculous stories of someone drawing a mouse on an island and claiming copyright protection for it.
But after arriving in this era, the ongoing copyright dispute between Mirrora and Atari had shaken his confidence.
According to the memories of the body's previous owner, Atari's founder, Nolan Bushnell, had committed plagiarism in 1972, and Mirrora had known about it as early as 1973. Yet, it wasn't until last year, 1974, that they officially filed a lawsuit!
Any clear-eyed observer could see there was something fishy about the situation!
After all, what company would stand idly by while its competitor blatantly copied its work, especially when that competitor was profiting handsomely from the stolen material?
Ethan's question caused Barbara to raise an eyebrow. She took a sip of her coffee and smiled, "Ethan, don't be puzzled. When I first heard your story, I found it odd too. So, I did some digging, and it turns out that Atari's plagiarism of Mirrora's game was largely due to issues within the U.S. Copyright Office."
"???"
Evelyn perked up, intrigued by this answer.
"Professor Barbara, are you saying that those officials..."
"No, no, no..."
Before Evelyn could finish, Barbara interrupted, "Evelyn, it's not what you think."
"As I mentioned earlier, our current copyright law was drafted in 1909, long before video games existed. However, it also included a curious requirement—that all works seeking copyright registration must be classified under specific categories on the application form."
"Nowadays, we can categorize video games as 'other works,' but back then, when Mirrora applied for copyright, the reviewers couldn't decide whether video games fell under music, visual art, or even film. They thought the game components should be registered separately."
"Mirrora, however, argued that their game was an integrated whole and couldn't be registered in parts. They were also concerned that dividing the registration would make it difficult to defend their rights if infringement occurred. So, the registration process hit a deadlock."
"In the end, unable to resolve the disagreement, Mirrora only patented the Odyssey console but did not secure copyright for the game's content."
"???"
"What?"
Ethan was utterly dumbfounded.
This answer left him speechless!
It sounded so... utterly absurd!
Barbara, noticing Ethan's incredulous expression, nodded and said, "Unbelievable, right? But that's reality—only in the real world do you encounter such illogical situations."
She shrugged and continued, "But I haven't even told you the funniest part. Do you know what really stopped Mirhwa from registering the game's copyright back then? It was a critical issue—something called the 'expedited service' at the copyright office."
"You've probably never heard of it, but I know it well because I've used it."
"As per the 1909 Copyright Act, whether a work is registered or not, it's still legally protected. However, to actually pursue legal action, it must be registered."
"This sounds like a paradox, doesn't it? Because without registration, you can't establish when the copyright protection begins. Without that, you can't enforce your rights."
"But with the expedited service, things became simpler."
"If an unregistered work is infringed upon, the victim can apply for this expedited service, and the copyright office will review and issue a certificate within a certain timeframe. This certificate will also indicate when the copyright protection starts."
"For example, if I apply today for a work created ten years ago, the office will backdate the protection to 1965. This backdating allowed Mirhwa to disregard the initial copyright dispute, which gave Atari the perfect opening."
At this point, Barbara smiled, her eyes glinting with amusement.
"I think you get what I'm saying, right? Since Mirhwa never registered their copyright, why wouldn't Nolan Bushnell dare to copy it?"
Her voice rose slightly, "The truth is, they copied it successfully! They made so much money that by the time Mirhwa applied for the expedited service to sue, Atari had already won!"
"Mirhwa first had to prove to the copyright office when their game was actually created, and only after that could their rights be established. During this awkward evidence-gathering phase, they couldn't defend their intellectual property."
"And let me remind you of something else: 'Pong' wasn't Bushnell's first arcade game! He had created other games before it!"
"They just didn't succeed, and the original copyright holders weren't even aware of it, so no one cared."
So it turns out Mirhwa, relying on the copyright office's ability to rewrite history, indirectly handed Atari their victory!
Ethan felt a wave of emotion.
Though Barbara's explanation sounded somewhat ridiculous... well, this is the peculiar charm of America.
After all, this is the country where people came up with the bizarre idea of transporting refugees from one place to another.
Having already witnessed countless absurdities in the 21st century...
Mirhwa's blunder didn't seem like a grand tale of amusement anymore—just a large-scale joke.
"Okay, Ms. Barbara, thank you so much for your explanation," Ethan said, stifling his laughter and keeping a straight face.
But honestly, he felt much more at ease now.
He finally understood the reason behind the original Ethan Jones' confusion and realized that even in 1975, in this primitive age, video games were still protected by law.
Under such circumstances...
Wouldn't registering the copyright for "Snake" allow him to sell it?
Once it's sold, he'd have money!
And with money...
Beaches! Women! Bikini Bottom! Heh heh heh!
At that thought, Ethan eagerly asked, "So, Ms. Barbara, if I go to register my copyright now, can I file it under video games?"
"I won't be rejected by the copyright office like Mirhwa, will I?"
"Of course not!" Barbara laughed. "In fact, after Mirhwa formally sued Atari last year, the copyright office opened registrations for video games. You can absolutely register your content under that category."
This answer greatly satisfied Ethan.
However, just as he was about to express his thanks and follow the registration process...
Barbara added, "But, I wouldn't recommend you register it just yet."
"???"
Ethan was baffled.
Evelyn was also puzzled. "Why, Ms. Barbara?"
Their confusion made Barbara chuckle. "The reason is simple…"
"Darlings! You're in luck—after fifty-six years of restriction, the capitalists are about to overturn it all!"