It was inevitable that the age of artificial intelligence would collide with the cult of celebrity
in a court of law. But who would have guessed that one of the first test cases would involve Tony Robbins, the centimillionaire motivational guru and peddler of self-help tomes based around power centers? Well, apparently Robbins is miffed about an A.I. chatbot that he claims offers a “studied impersonation” of him. Robbins, you see, already has his own “Tony Robbins AI,” and he’s none too pleased about a digital doppelgänger muscling in on his
brand.

Two weeks ago, Robbins quietly filed a lawsuit against InnoLeap and Mira Muse, the companies behind YesChat.AI, which offers subscribers access to “Tony Robbins GPT,” one among a roster of 200,000 interactive chatbots “trained to simulate the language, style, and knowledge of particular personalities.” But the thing is, almost no one has actually tested in court what happens when A.I. ingests a public
figure’s voice, image, and personality—and spits out a commercial imitation. Not surprisingly, the outcome of Robbins’s suit may have ripple effects across the entertainment industry. Robbins is asking for more than $12 million in damages, claiming violations of his right of publicity, trademark infringement, and unfair competition. (Here’s the complaint.)

As we know,
Hollywood studios and movie stars alike have been lobbying state legislatures to modernize likeness laws, while federal lawmakers dither over whether to intervene. More than 40 cases are pending over A.I.’s use of copyrighted books, films, and news articles. But as far as I can tell, no one has dared test Tennessee’s stringent ELVIS (Ensuring Likeness, Voice, and Image Security) Act in court. Signed last year by Governor Bill Lee, you may remember, it’s the first state law
that specifically tackles A.I.’s use of an actor or musician’s voice or image without consent, tipping the balance in favor of the creatives over the tech companies.

The ELVIS Act essentially draws a legal line between creative freedom and personal rights. Consider Tom Cruise. The Mission: Impossible star, as Brad Pitt recently reminded the world, delights in hopping around on the outside of airplanes. Suppose some ambitious auteur fed Cruise’s
entire oeuvre into an A.I. model and generated a dazzling stunt sequence. Would that be legal? Don’t answer too quickly. Because there are undoubtedly circumstances in which it might be perfectly lawful, and others where it decidedly wouldn’t. If Tony Robbins presses forward, his lawsuit might force courts to begin to provide clarity. And, frankly, the laws regarding this topic are in dire need of a reboot.

The only time the high court has
directly addressed the interplay between the First Amendment and state laws protecting a person’s name, image, and likeness was in 1977. Back then, Hugo Zacchini, the so-called “human cannonball,” persuaded the Supreme Court that a local Ohio TV station had effectively stolen his livelihood by broadcasting his entire act without permission.

Since then,
courts have recognized the right of publicity, but steadily narrowed its reach, often siding with content creators and broadcasters (though not always with video game publishers) when celebrities complain that their identities have been hijacked. Along the way, judges have borrowed tests from the copyright and trademark realms, weighing factors like whether a use is “transformative,” or considering whether it explicitly misleads consumers when there’s some artistic relevance to the use of a
celebrity’s name.

But recent Supreme Court decisions involving Andy Warhol’s art and a dog toy shaped like a Jack Daniel’s bottle have shifted the ground. The Court has placed greater emphasis on commercial purpose and shown less
deference to artistic intentions, potentially undermining decades of case law. Suddenly, the thread of jurisprudence that protects everything from lithographers silk-screening t-shirts of the Three Stooges to Ryan Murphy’s 2017 FX series Feud—which portrayed Olivia de Havilland against the then-100-year-old Oscar-winning
actress’s wishes—looks far less secure.

Perhaps it no longer matters so much whether artists are “adding significant expression” to the raw materials of a celebrity’s likeness. And perhaps, if a famous person’s name or face is being used to sell entertainment, creative license alone won’t be enough to fend off a lawsuit. Given
the current trend in rulings, studio lawyers are nervously eyeing the Ninth Circuit’s upcoming decision in a lawsuit brought by drag queen Vicky Vox, who alleges that Netflix misappropriated her cartoonized likeness in the LGBTQ superspy series Queer Force. There’s real anxiety that the court might make
it easier for plaintiffs to prevail in these sorts of cases.

Now, Tony Robbins may be the face of a new legal frontier. Of course, his case won’t be the only one shaping this terrain. Policy battles continue, like the California Senate’s unanimous vote last month to amend its likeness law to explicitly permit injunctions to block misappropriations of someone’s likeness, despite the Motion Picture Association’s warning it would chill free expression. And looming next year is the
expiration of the collective bargaining agreement between Hollywood producers and SAG-AFTRA, perhaps setting the stage for another bitter standoff over the protocols for incorporating A.I. into the industry’s daily business. (Yes, it’s that time again.)

Because yes, in the very near future, it’s entirely conceivable that the battleground will include a Tom Cruise GPT performing death-defying stunts on command. And the question will be: Who gets a piece of that?

Thanks, Eriq. I’ll see everyone on Thursday night.

Matt