Tag Archives: license

Solving the Looming Developer Liability Problem

Even if you’re a developer with legal leanings like me, you probably haven’t given much thought to the warranty disclaimer and the liability disclaimer that appears in almost every Open Source licence (see sections 14 and 15 of GPLv3). This post is designed to help you understand what they are, why they’re there and why we might need stronger defences in future thanks to a changing legal landscape.

History: Why no Warranty or Liability

It seems obvious that when considered in terms of what downstream gets from Open Source that an open ended obligation on behalf of upstream to fix your problems isn’t one of them because it wouldn’t be sustainable. Effectively the no warranty clause is notice that since you’re getting the code for free it comes with absolutely no obligations on developers: if it breaks, you get to fix it. This is why no warranty clauses have been present since the history of Open Source (and Free Software: GPLv1 included this). There’s also a historical commercial reason for this as well. Before the explosion of Open Source business models in the last decade, the Free Software Foundation (FSF) considered paid support for otherwise unsupported no warranty Open Source software to be the standard business model for making money on Open Source. Based on this, Cygnus Support (later Cygnus Solutions – Earliest web archive capture 1997) was started in 1989 with a business model of providing paid support and bespoke development for the compiler and toolchain.

Before 2000 most public opinion (when it thought about Open Source at all) was happy with this, because Open Source was seen by and large as the uncommercialized offerings of random groups of hackers. Even the largest Open Source project, the Linux kernel, was seen as the scrappy volunteer upstart challenging both Microsoft and the proprietary UNIXs for control of the Data Centre. On the back of this, distributions (Red Hat, SUSE, etc.) arose to commericallize support offerings around Linux to further its competition with UNIX and Windows and push it to win the war for the Data Centre (and later the Cloud).

The Rise of The Foundations: Public Perception Changes

The heyday explosion of volunteer Open Source happened in the first decade of the new Millennium. But volunteer Open Source also became a victim of this success: the more it penetrated industry, the greater control of the end product industry wanted. And, whenever there’s a Business Need, something always arises to fulfill it: the Foundation Model for exerting influence in exchange for cash. The model is fairly simple: interested parties form a foundation (or more likely go to a Foundation forming entity like the Linux Foundation). They get seats on the governing board, usually in proportion to their annual expenditure on the foundation and the foundation sets up a notionally independent Technical Oversight Body staffed by developers which is still somewhat beholden to the board and its financial interests. The net result is rising commercial franchise in Open Source.

The point of the above isn’t to say whether this commercial influence is good or bad, it’s to say that the rise of the Foundations have changed the public perception of Open Source. No longer is Open Source seen as the home of scrappy volunteers battling for technological innovation against entrenched commercial interests, now Open Source is seen as one more development tool of the tech industry. This change in attitude is pretty profound because now when a problem is found in Open Source, the public has no real hesitation in assuming the tech industry in general should be responsible; the perception that the no warranty clause protects innocent individual developers is supplanted by the perception that it’s simply one more tool big tech deploys to evade liability for the problems it creates. Some Open Source developers have inadvertently supported this notion by publicly demanding to be paid for working on their projects, often in the name of sustainability. Again, none of this is necessarily wrong but it furthers the public perception that Open Source developers are participating in a commercial not a volunteer enterprise.

Liability via Fiduciary Duty: The Bitcoin Case

An ongoing case in the UK courts (BL-2021-000313) between Tulip Trading and various bitcoin developers centers around the disputed ownership of about US$4bn in bitcoin. Essentially Tulip contends that it lost access to the bitcoins due to a computer hack but says that the bitcoin developers have a fiduciary duty to it to alter the blockchain code to recover its lost bitcoins. The unusual feature of this case is that Tulip sued the developers of the bitcoin code not the operators of the bitcoin network. (it’s rather like the Bank losing your money and then you trying to sue the Mint for recovery). The reason for this is that all the operators (the miners) use the same code base for the same blockchain and thus could rightly claim that it’s technologically impossible for them to recover the lost bitcoin, because that would necessitate a change to the fundamental blockchain code which only the developers control. The suit was initially lost by Tulip on the grounds of the no liability disclaimer, but reinstated by the UK appeal court which showed considerable interest in the idea that developers could pick up fiduciary liability in some cases, even though the suit may eventually get dismissed on the grounds that Tulip can’t prove it ever owned the US$4bn in bitcoins in the first place.

Why does all this matter? Well, even if this case resolves successfully, thanks to the appeal court ruling, the door is still open to others with less shady claims that they’ve suffered an injury due to some coding issue that gives developers fiduciary liability to them. The no warranty disclaimer is already judged not to be sufficient to prevent this, so the cracks are starting to appear in it as a defence against all liability claims.

The EU Cyber Resilience Act: Legally Piercing No Warranty Clauses

The EU Cyber Resilience Act (CRA) at its heart provides a fiduciary duty of care on all “digital components” incorporated into products or software offered on the EU market to adhere to prescribed cybersecurity requirements and an obligation to provide duty of care for these requirements over the whole lifecycle of such products or software. Essentially this is developer liability, notwithstanding any no warranty clauses, writ large. To be fair, there is currently a carve out for “noncommercial” Open Source but, as I pointed out above, most Open Source today is commercial and wouldn’t actually benefit from this. I’m not proposing to give a detailed analysis (many people have already done this and your favourite search engine will turn up dozens without even trying) I just want to note that this is a legislative act designed to pierce the no warranty clauses Open Source has relied on for so long.

EU CRA Politics: Why is this Popular?

Politicians don’t set out to effectively override licensing terms and contract law unless there’s a significant popularity upside and, if you actually canvas the general public, there is: People are tired of endless cybersecurity breaches compromising their private information, or even their bank accounts, and want someone to be held responsible. Making corporations pay for breaches that damage individuals is enormously popular (and not just in the EU). After all big Tech profits enormously from this, so big Tech should pay for the clean up when things go wrong.

Unfortunately, self serving arguments that this will place undue burdens on Foundations funded by starving corporations rather undermine the same arguments on behalf of individual developers. To the public at large such arguments merely serve to reinforce the idea that big Tech has been getting away with too much for too long. Trying to separate individual developer Open Source from corporate Open Source is too subtle a concept to introduce now, particularly when we, and the general public, have bought into the idea that they’re the same thing for so long.

So what should we do about this?

It’s clear that even if a massive (and expensive) lobbying effort succeeds in blunting the effect of the CRA on Open Source this time around, there will always be a next time because of the public desire for accountability for and their safety guarantees in cybersecurity practices. It is also clear that individual developer Open Source has to make common cause with commercial Open Source to solve this issue. Even though individuals hate being seen as synonymous with corporations, one of the true distinctions between Open Source and Free Software has always been the ability to make common cause over smaller goals rather than bigger philosophies and aspirations; so this is definitely a goal we can make a common cause over. This common cause means the eventual solution must apply to individual and commercial Open Source equally. And, since we’ve already lost the perception war, it will have to be something more legally based.

Indemnification: the Legal solution to Developer Liability

Indemnification means one party, in particular circumstances, agreeing to be on the hook for the legal responsibilities of another party. This is actually a well known way not of avoiding liability but transferring it to where it belongs. As such, it’s easily sellable in the court of public opinion: we’re not looking to avoid liability, merely trying to make sure it lands on those who are making all the money from the code.

The best mechanism for transmitting this is obviously the Licence and, ironically, a licence already exists with developer indemnity clauses: Apache-2 (clause 9). Unfortunately, the Apache-2 clause only attaches to an entity offering support for a fee, which doesn’t quite cover the intention of the CRA, which is for anyone offering a product in the EU market (whether free or for sale) should be responsible for its cybersecurity lifecycle, whether they offer support or not. However, it does provide a roadmap for what such a clause would look like:

If you choose to offer this work in whole or part as a component or product in a jurisdiction requiring lifecycle duty of care you agree to indemnify, defend, and hold each Contributor harmless for any liability incurred by, or claims asserted against, such Contributor by reason of your actions in such a jurisdiction.

Probably the wording would need some tweaking by an actual lawyer, but you get the idea.

Applying Indemnity to existing Licences

Obviously for a new project, the above clause can simply be added to the licence but for any existing project, since the clause is compatible with the standard no-warranty statements, it can be added after the fact without interfering with the existing operation of the licence or needing buy in from current copyright holders (there is an argument that this would represent an additional restriction within the meaning of GPL, but I addressed that here). This makes it very easy to add by anyone offering, for instance, a download over Github or Gitlab that could be incorporated by someone into a product in the EU.

Conclusion

Thanks to public perception, the issue of developer liability isn’t going to go away and lobbying will not forestall the issue forever, so a robust indemnity defence needs to be incorporated into Open Source licences so that Liability is seen to be accepted where it can best be served (by the people or corporation utilizing the code).

Owning Your Own Copyrights in Open Source

This article covers several aspects: owning the copyrights you develop outside of your employed time and the more thorny aspect of owning the copyrights in open source projects you work on for your employer. It will also take a look at the middle ground of being a contract entity doing paid work on open source. This article follows the historical sweep of my journey through this field and so some aspects may be outdated and all are within the bounds of the US legal system and it’s most certainly not complete, just a description of what I did and what I learned.

Why Should you Own your Own Source code?

In the early days of open source, everything was a hobby project and everyone owned their own contributions. Owning your own contribution was a sort of mark of franchise in the project. Of course, there were some projects, notably the FSF ones, which didn’t believe in distributed ownership and insisted you contribute ownership of your copyrights to them so they could look after the project for you. Obviously, since I’m a Linux Kernel developer and with the Linux Kernel being a huge distributed copyright project, it’s easy to see which side of the argument I fall.

The main rights you give up if you don’t own the code you create are the right to re-licence and the right to enforce. It probably hadn’t occurred to you that if you actually find a licence violation in a project you contribute to for your employer, you’ll have no standing to demand that the problem get addressed. In fact, any enforcement on the code would have to be done by the proper owner: your employer. Plus your employer can control the ultimate destination of that ownership, including selling your code to a copyright troll if they so wished … while you may trust your employer now you work for them, do you trust them to do the right thing for all time, especially since they may be bought out by EvilCorp on down the road?

The relicensing problem can also be thorny: as a strong open source contributor you’ve likely been on the receiving end of requests to relicense (“I really like the code in your project X and would like to incorporate it in my open source project Y, but there’s a licence compatibility problem, would you dual license it?”) and thought nothing about saying “yes”. However, if your employer owns the code, you were likely lying when you said “yes” because you have no relicensing rights and you must ask your employer for permission to do the relicensing.

All the above points up the dangers in the current ecosystem. Project contributors often behave like they own the code but if they don’t they can be leaving a legal minefield in their wakes. The way to fix this is to own your own code … or at least understand the limitations of your rights if you don’t.

Open Source in Your Own Time

It’s a mistake to think that just because you work on something in your own time it isn’t actually owned by your employer. Historically, at least in the US, employment agreements contain incredibly broad provisions for invention ownership which basically try to claim anything you invent at any hour of the day or night that might be even vaguely related to your employment. Not unnaturally this caused huge volumes of litigation around startups where former employees successfully develop innovations their prior employer declined to pursue (at least until it started making money). This has lead to a slew of state based legal safe harbour protections for employee inventions. Most of them, like the Illinois Statute I first used, have similar wording

A provision in an employment agreement which provides that an employee shall assign or offer to assign any of the employee’s rights in an invention to the employer does not apply to an invention for which no equipment, supplies, facilities, or trade secret information of the employer was used and which was developed entirely on the employee’s own time … is … void and unenforceable.

765 ILCS 1060/2

In fact most states now require the wording to appear in the employment contract, so you likely don’t have to look up the statute to figure out what to do. The biggest requirements are that it be on your own time and you not be using any employer equipment, so the most important thing is to make sure you have your own laptop or computer. If you follow the requirements to the letter, you should be safe enough in owning your own time open source code. However, if you really want a guarantee you need to take extra precautions.

Own Time Open Source Carve Outs in Employment agreements

When you join a company, one of the things you’ll sign is a prior invention disclosure form, usually as an appendix to the invention assignment agreement as part of your employment contract. Here’s an example one from the SEC database (ironically for a Chinese subsidiary). Look particularly at section 2(a) “Inventions Retained and Licensed”. It’s basically pure CYA for the company, and most people leave Exhibit A blank, but you shouldn’t do that. What you should do is list all your current and future (by doing sweeping guesswork) own open source projects. The most useful clause in 2(a) says “I agree that I will not incorporate any Prior Inventions into any products …” so you and your employer have now agreed that all the listed projects are outside the scope of your employment agreement.

As far as I can tell, no-one really looks at Exhibit A at all, so I’ve been really general and put things like “The Linux Kernel” and “Open Source UEFI software” “Open Source cryptography such as gnupg, openssl and gnutls” and never been challenged on it.

One legitimate question, which will probably happen if your carve outs are very broad, is what happens if your employer specifically asks you to work on a project you’ve declared in Exhibit A? Ideally you could use this as an opportunity to negotiate an addendum to your contract covering your ownership of open source. However, if you don’t want to rock the boat, you can simply do nothing and rely on the fact that the agreement has something to say about this. The sample section 2(a) above goes on to give your employer a non-exclusive licence, which you could take as agreement to your continued ownership of the copyrights in the code, even through your employer is now instructing you (and paying you) to work on it. However, the say nothing approach has never been tested in court and may be vulnerable to challenge, so a safer course is to send your manager an email pointing out the issue and proposing to follow the licence in the employment contract. If they do nothing, thinking the matter settled, as most managers do, then you have legal cover for continuing to own your own copyrights. You can make it as vague as you like, so using the above sample agreement, something like “You’ve asked me to work on Project X which was listed in Exhibit A of my employment agreement. To move forward, I’m happy to licence all future works on this project to you under the terms of section 2(a)”. It looks innocuous, but it’s actually a statement that your company doesn’t get copyright ownership because of the actual wording in section 2(a) says the company gets a non-exclusive licence if you incorporate any works listed in Exhibit A. Remember to save the email somewhere safe (and any reply which is additional proof it was seen) just in case.

Owning Open Source Produced on Company Time

The first thing to note is that if your employer pays for you to work on open source, absent any side agreement, the code that you produce will be owned by your employer. This isn’t some US specific thing, this is a general principle of employment the world over (they pay you, so they own it). So even if you work in Europe, your employer will still own your open source copyrights if they pay you to work on the project, moral rights arguments notwithstanding. The only way to change this is to get some sort of explicit or implicit (if you want to go the carve out route above) agreement about the ownership.

Although I’ve negotiated both joint and exclusive ownership of open source via employment agreements, the actual agreements are still the property of the relevant corporations and thus, unfortunately, while I can describe some of the elements, I can’t publish the text (employment agreements are the crown jewels the HR dragons guard).

How to Negotiate

Most employers (or at least their lawyers) will refuse point blank to change the wording of employment agreements. However, what you want can be a side agreement and usually doesn’t require rewording the employment agreement at all. All you need is the understanding that the side agreement will get executed. One big problem can be that most negotiations over employment agreements occur with people from HR, which is a department with the least understanding of open source, so you don’t want to be negotiating the side agreement with them, you want to talk to the person that is hiring you. You also need to present your request as reasonable, so find out if anyone inside your prospective new company has done something similar. Often they have, and they’ll likely be someone in open source you’ve at least heard of so you can approach them and ask for details. “But you gave a copyright ownership side agreement to X” is often a great way to advance your cause. Don’t be afraid to ask and argue politely but firmly … hiring talented developers is very competitive nowadays so they have (or at least the manager who wants to hire you has) a vested interest in keeping you happy.

Consider Joint Ownership

Joint ownership is a specific legal term meaning the rights in a copyright are shared by the joint owners. Effectively this sharing means that either party may enforce without consulting the other and either party may license the work without consulting the other (but here they must share any profits from the licence equally among joint owners).

Joint ownership is often a good solution because it gives you the right to relicence and the right to enforce, while also giving your employer a share in what they paid to produce. Joint ownership is often far easier to sell to corporations than one or other of you having exclusive ownership because it gives them all the rights they would have had anyway. The only slight concern you may have down the road is it does give them the right to relicence or sell on their ownership, say to an open core business or to an enforcement troll. However, the good news is that as joint owner you now have a right to a half share of any profit they (and the new owner) make out of such a rights transfer, which can potentially act as a deterrent to the transaction if you remind them of this requirement.

Open Source as a Contractor

In some ways this is the best relationship. There are no work for hire assumptions about companies you contract for owning your free time, so doing other open source projects is easy. However, a contractor is bound by whatever contract you sign, so you need someone with legal training to help you make sure it is actually equitable. You can’t get around this legal requirement: the protections that exist for employees don’t exist for contractors, so if you sign a contract saying in exchange for a certain sum company X owns the entirety of your output, you will be bound by it. So remember: read the contract and negotiate the terms.

Copyright Ownership as a Contractor

Surprisingly, in a relationship where you’re contracted to get something upstream, it’s often in the client’s best interest to have the contractor own the copyrights in Open Source. It means the contractor is responsible for all the nitty gritty of pushing patches and dealing with contribution agreements and the client simply gets the end product: the thing they wanted upstream. I’ve found this a surprisingly easy sell to most legal departments. Even if the client does want some sort of ownership of the code, you can offer joint ownership as the easy route to you taking on all the hassle and them getting the benefits of ownership.

Trade Secrets

As a contractor, you’ll likely be forced to sign an NDA never to reveal client secrets. This is pretty usual, but the pitfall in open source, particularly if you’re doing a driver for a device whose programming manual is under NDA, is that you are going to be revealing them contrary to the NDA. You need this handled in an equitable fashion in the contract to avoid unpleasant problems long after the job is done. The simplest phrase you need is something like “Client understands that open source is developed in public and authorizes that all information necessary to producing X under this contract be disclosed to the public”.

Patents

Patents can be a huge minefield with contract open source, because as a contractor who owns the copyrights and negotiates the contribution agreements, you have no authority to bind your client’s patents. You really don’t want to find yourself being used as a conduit for a patent ambush on open source (where a client contracts with you to put code into a project which reads on a patent they hold and then turns around and patent trolls the ecosystem) so you need contract language binding the client patents at least in the work you’re doing for them. Something simple like “Client grants a perpetual and irrevocable licence, consistent with the terms of the open source licence for X, to all contributions made by contractor to X that read on patents client holds now or may in future acquire”. This latter is pretty narrow, so you could start out by trying to get a patent licence for the entirety of project X and negotiate down from there.

Conclusions

Owning your own copyrights in open source is possible provided you’re careful. The strategies outlined above are based on my own experiences (all in the US) as a contract employee from 1995-2008 there after as a regular employee but are not the only ones you could pursue, so ask around to see what others have done as well. The main problem with all the strategies above is that they work well when you’re negotiating your employment. If you’re already working at some corporation they’re unlikely to be helpful to you unless you really have a simple own time open source project. Oh, and just remember that while the snippets I quoted above for the contract case may actually have been in contracts I signed, this isn’t legal advice and you should have a lawyer advise you how best to incorporate the various points raised.