Media and Arts Law Review

Preface

Welcome to Part 2 of this special double issue of the Media and Arts Law Review.

This issue explores intersections between Taylor Swift — singer, songwriter, entertainer, influencer, businesswoman and, as one contributor argues, icon — and law.

As Swift’s star has inexorably risen, she has trodden pathways established by others, but she has also carved her own impression on the world by dint of the remarkable scope and scale of her success. Her impact on law has varied widely, as she has evolved from a young artist whose creative labours were commoditised via legal means for the enrichment of others, to a mega-success with the cultural and economic resources to leverage law to her own ends, at times even influencing the adjudication and making of law, for purposes sometimes altruistic, sometimes self-interested and sometimes inscrutable. Swift’s rise can be celebrated for many reasons, but it also raises questions. Who is this person? What are we to make of the power she wields? And what might she empower or inspire us, and others, to do?

Part 1 addressed Swift and intellectual property law, including her copyright battles over her back catalogue, her law-bending assertiveness in the trademark space, and how her parasocial relationship with fans both draws upon and adds value to her IP portfolio.

Part 2 engages more broadly with Swift’s cultural power, considering its impact — actual and potential — on law. The first contribution, by Sarah Ailwood, examines Mueller v Swift, in which Swift counter-sued radio presenter David Mueller for sexual assault — famously claiming for and winning symbolic damages of $1 — after he sued her for alleging he had groped her at a meet-and-greet. Ailwood explains that although Mueller v Swift preceded the #MeToo movement, it accurately presaged trends in law and justice that would emerge in response to women speaking out more widely about sexual violence, including fostering doubts and attacking the accuser’s credibility, cultivating inappropriate sympathy or ‘himpathy’ for the accused, and, of course, litigation itself, which is notoriously gruelling and expensive and tends to favour the party with greater cultural and economic power. However, as Ailwood details, Swift’s own power and celebrity status, along with a well-conceived and deftly-executed courtroom strategy that defused many of opposing counsel’s attacks, enabled her to defeat the attempt to silence her. Ailwood scrutinises Swift’s own reflections on the case and where its wider significance may lie.

It might be said that, in counter-suing Mueller, Swift was playing a part: she was representing not just herself, but a version of herself, and of a person, who has experienced sexual assault. That is not the everyday Swift — but who is? Michael Randall says there are many Swifts, and she not only knows this, she embraces it, while telling us directly through her lyrics what she is doing. Randall argues that Swift’s recognition of the limits of authenticity for a person in her position does not detract from her power: instead, it enables her to build and deploy power from the icon status she cultivates in discrete domains. Some of the domains in which Swift has acted and advocated — and enjoyed iconic successes — are legal domains, and Randall foreshadows an army of legally-savvy Swifties who can tell accurate stories about law to others and may be prominent among a new generation of lawmakers.

The issue concludes with a reflection on how Swift’s work might influence us personally and how it offers us tools to better understand the stories we hear around us, including competing narratives within law. Danish Sheikh illustrates the power of a good story, pulling one from Swift’s catalogue as told by three conflicting characters over three separate songs. Sheikh suggests that this story, told in this way via this medium, highlights and challenges how we allow ourselves to be drawn in and swayed by compelling narratives. He argues that Swift’s storytelling contains valuable practical wisdom on awareness of indeterminacy, complexity and assumption, which we can utilise jurisprudentially to become better listeners of the stories we encounter in law.

Abstract

In 2015, radio presenter David Mueller brought a civil law claim against Taylor Swift. Swift and her management team had reported to Mueller’s employer, KYGO radio in Denver, Colorado, that he had groped her under her skirt during a fan meet-and-greet before a performance, and his employment was subsequently terminated. In this article I adopt a post-#MeToo standpoint to critically reflect on Mueller v Swift. Although the case predates the ignition of the ‘Me Too’ hashtag, it is prescient of several trends that emerged and intensified with the #MeToo movement: the weaponisation of litigation, and particularly tort law, by alleged perpetrators against victim-survivors who report inappropriate sexual behaviour; the emergence of ‘himpathy’ as a response to sexual violence being reported and alleged male perpetrators being publicly named; and the enduring influence of economic and cultural power and privilege on law and justice responses to sexual violence. I argue that the latter may be traced in Swift’s successful defence and counterclaim for sexual assault and battery, and particularly in her litigation strategies, which were designed to overcome the doubt with which women’s testimony of sexual violence is often met. Indeed, Swift’s economic and cultural power enabled her to confound myths about sexual assault and harassment and victim-witness credibility in the courtroom, and to construct sexual violence as not only an interpersonal issue but also a structural problem linked to gender inequality — two key messages of the #MeToo movement. Yet although #MeToo, like Swift, has done much to expose this problem, victim-survivors with less power and privilege remain vulnerable to weaponised litigation.

Abstract

Icons carry an elevated standing in popular culture and help us to process the world around us. This article classifies Taylor Swift as an icon and considers the influence that she has been able to exert because of her knowing understanding of the complexities of authenticity in public life.

This article presents a consideration of what makes someone an icon as opposed to a star, highlighting that Taylor Swift is an extraordinary figure. This is, in part, due to the image that is presented to audiences, an image that she has gained greater control of through her career, which reflects on her genuine experiences and allows for greater connections with her fans. This image ties into a nuanced understanding of what is and what is not authentic which is present throughout her work.

Her fans, over time, have become legal experts as she has publicly navigated commercial rights and feminist issues. These become shared experiences, in part because of her perceived authenticity.

The culmination is that Taylor Swift has already exerted a great degree of influence over what the state of law provides in rights and guarantees to creators. The full extent of this will not be known as the ethics and values inspire others. Nevertheless, Taylor Swift occupies a unique position which requires further investigation and consideration.

Abstract

In the early months of the pandemic, Taylor Swift released her 8th studio album. For a songwriter known for her diaristic body of work, Folklore was a notable stylistic departure. The album was marked by Swift’s attempt to incorporate other voices into her storytelling, written from the perspectives of figures both real and fictional. Amongst the most widely discussed elements of Folklore is a love triangle told over the course of three songs: ‘Cardigan’, ‘August’ and ‘Betty’. Each song is written from the vantage point of a different character, with intertextual references to the other songs filling in the gaps of the story and providing a connecting thread.

In this article, I approach Folklore and its central love triangle for the jurisprudential lessons it might offer. A jurisprudent is someone who develops a persona which cares for the conduct of lawful relations. In this article, I ask what forms of training Swift might provide to those of us who care about law. In particular, I approach Swift as a narrative jurisprudent, focusing on how she goes about crafting different personae, how she attempts to take responsibility for each of these personae, how she trains herself through the act of writing other selves, and how she trains her audience to listen well. I place each of these lessons in the context of Swift’s broader oeuvre as a songwriter, while also making a case for how they teach us to better take responsibility for law.