The Supreme Court granted certiorari last term to a case that seems quite benign on its face but is, as Supreme Court cases usually are, a legal iceberg. This case, Koons Buick v. Nigh, presents a simple issue of the proper interpretation of a provision of the Truth in Lending Act. Koons Buick violated the Act by its practices in the course of offering Nigh financing for an automobile purchase—there is no question there—but the problem arose instead out of the damages awarded to Nigh under 15 U.S.C. 1640. The law, before Congress amended it in 1995, stated as follows (bear with me here, as this issue does eventually become more global):

(a) ... any [TILA violator] is liable to such person in an amount equal to the sum of—
(2)(A)(i) in the case of an individual action twice the amount of any finance charge in connection with the transaction, or (ii) in the case of an individual action relating to a consumer lease under part E of this subchapter, 25 per centum of the total amount of monthly payments under the lease, except that the liability under this subparagraph shall not be less than $100 nor greater than $1000[.]

However, Congress amended the statute in 1995 to read:

(a) ... any [TILA violator] is liable to such person in an amount equal to the sum of—
(2)(A)(i) in the case of an individual action twice the amount of any finance charge in connection with the transaction, (ii) in the case of an individual action relating to a consumer lease under part E of this subchapter, 25 per centum of the total amount of monthly payments under the lease, except that the liability under this subparagraph shall not be less than $100 nor greater than $1000, or (iii) in the case of an individual action relating to a credit transaction not under an open end credit plan that is secured by real property or a dwelling, not less than $200 or greater than $2000[.]

The unmistakable authority before the change was that the $1000 cap applied to both parts (i) and (ii). However, with the addition of part (iii) in 1995, the precise meaning of "subparagraph" was called into question. There is no question that Congress did a terrible job of drafting, no matter whether it intended to allow the $1000 cap to remain applicable to both parts (i) and (ii) or whether it intended to abrogate it. Nigh was awarded $24,000 under part (i), as the District Court and the Fourth Circuit gave the section its natural reading.
But it seems plain that this is an absurd result. So the question the Court will have to answer is what it plans to do about the mistake. It will have to revisit old principles of statutory interpretation, but the question is really much larger: what role should the courts play in fixing the obvious mistakes of the legislature? At its base, then, this is as important a question as the Court has ever answered—what is the proper method for determining how the powers of our federal government are to be separated?
Just as interesting, as has become custom in tough decisions with the current Court, will be which way the moderates will swing. Justices O'Connor and Kennedy will most likely have to take sides in the strict textualist/legislative intent struggle for power.
The case was argued October 5. For a more complete factual background, click here.

Perhaps the most fundamental precept of copyright law is commonly referred to as the "idea-expression dichotomy." Basically, it exists to say that ideas are not subject to copyright protection, while the expression of an idea will be (though the scope or breadth of the protection may vary under the specific circumstances). To illustrate: Learned Hand told us that "[a] comedy based upon conflicts between Irish and Jews, into which the marriage of their children enters, is no more susceptible of copyright than the outline of Romeo and Juliet." Nichols v. Universal Pictures Corporation, 45 F.2d 119 (2d Cir. 1930). But, at some point, the specificity of the expression is distinguishable from the idea itself and might receive protection, albeit limited in scope.

Enter reality television. And The Format Recognition and Protection Association (FRAPA). FRAPA exists to promote the `recognition and protection' of formats, such as for reality television, especially in light of recent and ongoing litigation over shows like "The Next Great Champ" and "The Contender." But what should actually be protected by copyright? `A boxing reality television show,' such that no other network could ever have one? This seems absurd. Almost as absurd is protecting much about the specific way that the show is presented. Sure, logos, names, and phrases associated with a show ought to receive some protection, but that's trademark, not copyright. How many ways are there to have a boxing match? Granted, I'm not a boxing aficionado, but I don't think boxing can be `expressed' (to use the language of copyright law) in many different ways (if any but one) and still be recognized as boxing. FRAPA, it seems then, is just trying to erode any semblance of limiting copyright protection to expression, instead of ideas.