Perplexity CEO Aravind Srinivas previously worked at OpenAI. Saul Loeb/AFP via Getty Images
Perplexity AI, a startup that has previously come under fire from online publishers, is attempting to rebuild trust with media players through revenue-sharing agreements. But that effort hasn’t stopped complaints about how the company surfaces content. Its latest challenge comes from Japanese media groups Nikkei and Asahi Shumbun, which today (Aug. 26) filed a joint lawsuit accusing Perplexity of copyright infringement.
Co-founded in 2022 by CEO Aravind Srinivas, Perplexity has quickly become a leader in A.I.-powered search and is currently valued at $18 billion. Unlike traditional search engines that return links, Perplexity responds to queries by summarizing information found online, accompanies by citations.
Perplexity did not respond to Observer requests for comment on the lawsuit.
Nikkei, which owns the eponymous Japanese newspaper and the Financial Times, and Asahi Shumbun claim that Perplexity has been storing and resurfacing their articles since at least June 2024, a practice the publishers describe as “free riding” on journalists’ work. The lawsuit, filed in a Tokyo District Court, demands that the A.I. company delete stored articles, stop reproducing publisher content, and pay each media company 2.2 billion Japanese yen ($15 million) in damages.
The suit also alleges that Perplexity ignored robot.txt safeguards implemented by the news publishers to block unauthorized crawling and sometimes presented articles alongside incorrect information, a move the publishers argue “severely damages the credibility” of their newspapers.
This is not Perplexity’s first clash with news publishers. Earlier this month, Yomiuri Shimbun, another major Japanese newspaper, filed its own lawsuit against the company. U.S. outlets have also raised challenges.
Last year, Condé Nast, Forbes and The New York Times all threatened legal action over alleged copyright infringement. Perplexity is currently battling a 2024 lawsuit from Dow Jones and The New York Post—both owned by Rupert Murdoch’s News Corp—claiming that the startup misused content to train A.I. models. A court recently rejected Perplexity’s bid to dismiss that case.
For now, the media industry remains divided on how to handle the rise of A.I. Some, like the Associated Press, Vox Media and The Atlantic, have signed licensing deals with OpenAI. Others remain wary. The New York Times is suing OpenAI and Microsoft over unauthorized use of its content, while Canadian startup Cohere was hit with a similar lawsuit this year from more than a dozen news publishers. Thompson Reuters has also accused A.I. platform Ross Intelligence of copyright infringement in a case that dates back to 2020.
Perplexity is launching a new revenue-sharing plan for publishers that will pay them every time its AI assistants use an article to answer a question, The Wall Street Journal reports. Perplexity is launching the plan (and partially paying for it) with a new Comet Plus subscription that gives subscribers access “to premium content from a group of trusted publishers and journalists.”
Comet Plus costs $5 per month, and based on Perplexity’s description, it’s primarily designed to account for the actions its Comet Agent (included in the Comet browser) takes on websites, which aren’t considered in existing publisher deals. “When you ask Perplexity to synthesize recent coverage of an industry trend, that’s indexed traffic,” the company writes. “When Comet Assistant scans your calendar and suggests articles relevant to your day’s meetings, that’s agent traffic.”
The company’s existing Publisher Program, which counts publications like TIME and Fortune as participants, shares ad revenue based on the traffic a Perplexity search is stealing away by providing a summary of an article. The money shared through Comet Plus will presumably account for what’s lost when an AI agent visits a webpage on your behalf, zooming past ads you’d normally see or hear.
Publishers will get 80 percent of the revenue of Comet Plus, according to Perplexity, with the remaining 20 percent allocated to “compute.” The Wall Street Journal writes that Perplexity will initially pay participating publishers out of a “$42.5 million revenue pool” that will expand over time, presumably as sign-ups grow for Comet Plus, and the Comet web browser becomes available to more people. That starting sum likely takes into account Perplexity’s existing Pro and Max subscribers, who will receive Comet Plus as part of their subscriptions and are paying into the revenue-sharing scheme by default.
It sounds generous on its face, and maybe with a large enough volume of subscribers it will be, but 80 percent of $5 is $4. That’s $4 that will presumably unlock unlimited access to a publication’s entire library of content. Most newspapers charge anywhere from $20 to $30 per month to access all of their articles. Why would they settle for less?
It’s not clear if this plan replaces Perplexity’s existing Publisher Program, or will exist alongside it. It’s also hard to say if not paying for Comet Plus will change the quality of responses you receive in Comet or Perplexity. Engadget has contacted Perplexity for more information and will update this article if we hear back.
Perplexity likely wouldn’t be exploring new revenue-sharing plans if it hadn’t already been caught plagiarizing articles in the first place. The company wants its agentic browser to be a success, and that ideally requires a certain amount of participation from the people who create the articles, images, and videos agents browse. It remains to be seen if Comet Plus is the kind of arrangement that will make publishers play ball.
LONDON — In May last year, my phone buzzed with a message from a contact in the British parliament whom I know well.
We meet every so often for coffee in a cafe far away enough from Westminster to be discreet, where he tells me what’s unfolding in the depths of parliament’s dingy corridors.
That day, his message read: “Has an MP been arrested today? Who can say?”
His first question was a news tip for me to follow up on. I began ringing and texting everyone I knew who might be able to tell me about the possible detention of a member of parliament.
Sure enough, the police soon confirmed that a 56-year-old man had been arrested on suspicion of rape and other offenses.
My contact’s second question — “Who can say?” — was more complicated.
In the hours after the arrest, pretty much every British political media organization prominently reported the man’s arrest, together with his age, his position as an MP, and his alleged crimes.
But while every reporter in Westminster knew exactly who he was, it took more than a year before anybody dared publish his name.
As with many other matters of the public interest, Britain’s restrictive libel and privacy laws put any publication that reported his identity at risk of a lengthy legal battle and crippling financial penalties.
In July, London’s Sunday Times took the decision to name him, reporting that he had been absent from parliament since his arrest. With the exception of a single mention in the Mirror newspaper, no other mainstream publication followed suit.
POLITICO can now join in reporting that the man arrested is Andrew Rosindell, a member of the Conservative party who has served as MP for the constituency of Romford in Essex, east of London, since 2001.
Rosindell has not been charged and denies any wrongdoing. He, like every British citizen, is entitled to the presumption of innocence. He has been released by police while they look into his case.
While every reporter in Westminster knew exactly who he was, it took more than a year before anybody dared publish his name | Marco Bertorello/AFP via Getty Images
But POLITICO believes there is a clear public interest in naming him, given the obvious impact upon his ability to represent his constituents — and because of further information we publish today about his activities since May 2021.
During the time he has been absent from parliament, he has continued to claim expenses for his work there and accepted foreign trips worth £8,548 (nearly $11,000) to Bahrain, India, Italy and Poland. He has also continued to receive donations from his supporters.
Rosindell declined to comment for this article.
These might seem like obvious and easy facts to report. But doing so has required extensive discussions with my editors and with a lawyer, even after the courage shown by the Sunday Times.
The Rosindell case is a clear-cut example — one among many — of how Britain’s media laws sometimes place individual privacy over the public interest, putting obstacles in the way of accountability journalism.
Given the work involved in reporting something like the allegations against Rosindell, it’s easy to see how many editors and reporters — battling for readers while grinding out the news — might look at the facts involved and conclude writing about it is simply not worth the risk.
For journalists trying to keep public figures honest, this can be a serious problem — and it’s one the United Kingdom is exporting around the world.
Burden of proof
The heart of the challenge lies in England’s incredibly tough defamation laws — which penalize statements that could damage someone’s public image among “right-thinking members of society” or cause “serious harm” to their reputation.
In the United States, journalists are not only shielded by the First Amendment, but for a defamation claim to succeed, the claimant must prove the allegations are false and were disseminated with malicious intent.
In English courts, the burden of proof lies on the publisher of the potentially libelous statement. Truth can be a defense, but you need to have the actual goods; simply pointing to another press report or even relying on allegations in a police arrest warrant, for example, is not enough.
In recent years, these defamation laws have combined with court rulings on the privacy of individuals under arrest or investigation to hinder reporting on potential abuses of power and other matters of the public interest.
This has contributed to the prevalence of “open secrets” in British public life: individuals known within their circles for alleged wrongdoing who cannot be named due to the onerously high burden of legal proof.
When the Sunday Times published an investigation into claims of sexual abuse against Russell Brand, many in the television industry responded that this had been known for as long as he had been famous | Jeff Spicer/Getty Images
A recent example of this is the allegations against the comedian Russell Brand. When the Sunday Times published an investigation into claims of sexual abuse against him, many in the television industry responded that this had been known for as long as he had been famous.
The trouble was, as the Daily Mail detailed, that for years Brand had deployed lawyers to use legal threats to shoot down stories or rumblings of stories that might crop up about his behavior.
SLAPP in the face
Scratch a high-profile scandal, and you’re likely to find a host of lawyers looking to block reporting about it, or seeking damages for what’s already been published.
The actor and producer Noel Clarke is suing the Guardian over a series of articles reporting allegations of sexual assault and harassment, which, even if unsuccessful, is likely to cost the newspaper hundreds of thousands of pounds.
A well-known British business is suing a broadcaster over an investigation into their working practices that has not yet been aired.
Complainants don’t even have to win for their lawsuits to have a chilling effect. Successfully fending off a claim can eat up months or years of a journalist’s time, if they have the resources at all to fight it.
Even the threat of a lawsuit can be enough to give many journalists pause.
When Ben De Pear was editor of Channel 4 News, the broadcaster worked with the Guardian and New York Times to expose the collection of Facebook users’ personal data by the consulting firm Cambridge Analytica for use in the 2016 Brexit referendum campaign.
After the journalists reached out for comment from Facebook, they were met with a barrage of different tactics, he said. “They didn’t answer till the last possible minute. Their response was published and sent to news organizations before it was sent to us. They prevaricated. Their lawyers sometimes sent 30 or 40 pages of legalese.”
“Normally, the longer the response, the less there is in it,” he added. “Good lawyers, journalists and editors will be able to cut through that, but it still sucks up time and causes an inordinate amount of stress.”
So common have efforts by rich individuals and companies to squash stories become that the practice has been endowed with an acronym: SLAPPs, or strategic lawsuits against public participation.
The English model
The problem isn’t constrained to local shores; England’s libel laws are increasingly being deployed against reporting in foreign countries about foreign individuals — a practice detractors describe as “libel tourism.”
Journalists Tom Burgis and Catherine Belton were both sued over books they wrote about Russian President Vladimir Putin’s regime and corruption in the former Soviet Union | Pool photo by Mikhail Metzel via AFP/Getty Images
Claimants have to establish jurisdiction to bring their action in the U.K., but the threshold is “not a very onerous one,” said Padraig Hughes, legal director at the Media Legal Defense Initiative, a London nonprofit offering advice and financial support to journalists facing defamation claims.
Journalists Tom Burgis and Catherine Belton were both sued over books they wrote about Russian President Vladimir Putin’s regime and corruption in the former Soviet Union.
Burgis and Belton both won, but their experiences don’t tell the whole story, said Clare Rewcastle Brown, a British journalist who helped expose one of the largest ever corruption scandals: the looting of billions of dollars from Malaysia’s 1MDB sovereign wealth fund.
“For every showcase where publishers can boast that they stuck with the author — and well done them — the fact of the matter is, they’ll have killed numerous other books,” she said.
My call with Rewcastle Brown was arranged around her schedule of getting up at 3 a.m. to appear via Zoom as a defendant in a defamation action brought against her by a member of the Malaysian royal family — one of dozens of similar actions she has faced.
She tells me she has survived through sheer bloody-mindedness, and by “frankly, having nothing to lose.”
She acknowledged that for many media outlets, especially smaller ones, these types of attacks could cause them to re-evaluate whether the efforts are worth it.
“As the money starts to ebb, the courage likewise ebbs away,” she said.
Devastating effect
England’s media laws do have their defenders, and there are examples where the system has made a positive difference. It “serves to make journalism in this country very rigorous, so it does have a good effect,” is how De Pear, of Channel 4 News, put it.
Gavin Phillipson, a professor of law at Bristol University, pointed out that the U.S. is not a model but an exception, with English law “completely in line with the vast majority of liberal democracies in both Europe and the Commonwealth.”
He has written about the “devastating effect” of stories such as the Mail Online’s decision to name a young Muslim man arrested in connection with the 2017 Manchester arena bombing. He was innocent and released without charge, but his name had already spread across the world in connection with the atrocity.
Phillipson notes that while the courts have established that everyone should have a reasonable expectation of privacy, “it doesn’t cover the underlying conduct itself.”
“If the press do their own investigative journalism and find out what actually has happened, then the law of privacy doesn’t stop them publishing that,” he said.
This factored into POLITICO’s decision to publish sexual harassment allegations against Julian Knight, a senior member of parliament, early this year.
Our story relied on our reporting, not just the fact that he’s being investigated by police. (Knight strongly denies all the allegations against him.)
Testing limits
Some in the U.K. have recognized the problem and made efforts to stamp down on libel tourism.
The Defamation Act 2013 raised the bar so that claimants would have to show they had suffered “serious” harm to their reputation, and introduced tighter rules for litigants not domiciled in the U.K.
The Economic Crime and Corporate Transparency Act attempted to give extra protection to defendants in litigation related to economic crimes. And this year the government announced legislation to scrap a rule forcing media companies to pay the legal bills of people who sue them.
But the pendulum has also swung the other way.
There was until recently a rule that the police had to notify the House of Commons Speaker of the arrest of any member of parliament and their name would be published.
If this measure had still been in place, it would have made the debate about publishing Rosindell’s name moot. But MPs opted to scrap it with very little fanfare in 2016.
Gabriel Pogrund, Whitehall editor for the Sunday Times, wrote the newspaper’s story naming Rosindell. He also reported on an accusation of rape against the former MP Charlie Elphicke, over which Elphicke sued the paper. (Elphicke was later convicted of sexual assault and dropped his claim.)
Pogrund argues that his job has gotten harder as a string of recent legal defeats for publications has diminished the appetite for testing where the line is.
The result, when it comes to public figures and organizations suspected of serious wrongdoing, he said, has been “an informal conspiracy of silence.”
The CEO of OpenAI, the maker of the artificial intelligence tool ChatGPT, spent last week touring the Continent, stopping in Spain, France, Poland, Germany and the United Kingdom. He was at once talking AI regulation with policymakers — he met national leaders Pedro Sánchez, Emmanuel Macron, Mateusz Morawiecki, Olaf Scholz, and Rishi Sunak — and scouting locations for an OpenAI European office.
“We really need an office in Europe,” Altman told POLITICO at a Paris event Friday. “We also just really want one.” Under the European Union’s upcoming Artificial Intelligence Act, companies with EU-based users would need a presence in the bloc, with national “supervisory authorities” in charge of implementing the regulation. The eventual choice of its HQ location will, therefore, determine which member country will oversee it when it comes to enforcing the AI Act.
Since its launch in November 2022, OpenAI’s ChatGPT — a bot able to create texts such as songs, scripts, articles and software based on written prompts — has caused both optimism and anxiety about what the rise of AI means for the future of humankind. While some have marveled at the tool’s prowess in creating computer code and streamlining office work, others fear that it could be used to generate troves of automated disinformation, manipulative content and biased material — or even put millions of people out of a job.
Nevertheless, politicians appear eager to host the world’s hottest AI lab. Opening the event, French Digital Minister Jean-Noël Barrot read a ChatGPT-generated description of Altman (“innovative, influential, visionary”) before pitching France as a “great AI country” — rattling off a list that included talent, abundant nuclear energy (to power the computers underpinning the AI), and cultural heritage among its assets.
In the U.K., where Altman also briefed national security personnel, a person familiar with his conversation with Sunak, who was granted anonymity to talk of high-level meetings, described the British prime minister as “deferential.”
Altman is still deliberating on where to house the new office. “If you had to pick just based on the most AI research talent, you’d pick France,” he told POLITICO. “But I’ve been super-impressed by the talent and energy everywhere.” OpenAI already has staff working in London, according to LinkedIn, and in September 2022 it created a U.K. subsidiary, according to the country’s business registry.
In Paris, Altman strove to quash reports, from Reuters, that OpenAI might leave the EU if the AI Act proved too onerous. “We plan to comply. We want to offer services in Europe,” Altman told the Parisian audience. “We just want to make sure we’re technically able to. And the conversations have been super-productive this week,” he added.
First floated by the European Commission in 2021, the AI Act would ban some uses of AI uses (such as social scoring and some instances of facial recognition) and impose stricter rules related to safety and oversight when it comes to sensitive AI applications considered “high-risk.” On top of that, according to a version of the AI Act adopted earlier this month by lawmakers in the European Parliament, “generative” models such as ChatGPT — which can create new content, like text or photos — would have to disclose a summary of copyrighted materials used as training data.
The rule — which still needs to be agreed upon by representatives of the Commission and EU member countries — addresses worries from artists and publishers that AI firms might use their intellectual property without their consent or knowledge.
“That sounds like a great thing to ask for,” Altman told POLITICO. “But — due to the way these datasets are collected and the fact people have been copying data in different ways on different websites — to say I have to legally warrant every piece of copyrighted content in there is not as easy as it sounds.”
Altman thinks an easier way for creators to know if their work is being used would be based on whether their names appear in the prompts users give to an AI. “Every time you ask, ‘I want a song in the style of the Beatles,’ that would be clear,” Altman said.
Sam Altman is the CEO of OpenAI, the maker of the artificial intelligence tool ChatGPT | Drew Angerer/Getty Images
All in all, however, Altman struck an optimistic tone about the AI Act and said he’d be happy to meet EU policymakers — despite skipping a planned Brussels stop in his tour. He told POLITICO that OpenAI would join the EU’s first “sandbox,” based in Spain, where AI companies will be able to test their regulatory compliance.
“It’s going to get to a good place,” he said. “Regulatory clarity will be a good thing.”
WESTCHESTER, Ill., September 10, 2019 (Newswire.com)
– Follett Corporation today announced an expanded leadership role for Amandeep Kochar, who succeeded David Cully as head of Baker & Taylor, the company’s public library business unit. Cully retired Aug. 30.
Kochar, who was promoted in June 2019 to lead Baker & Taylor, is responsible for Baker & Taylor’s Public Library Sales, Product & Technology Operations, Customer Service, Content and Strategic Partnerships as well as Baker & Taylor’s international subsidiaries in the United Kingdom, Mexico and Australia. His expanded responsibilities include leading joint International Sales and Global Technology operations for both Baker &Taylor and Follett School Solutions, the corporation’s PreK-12 business.
“David and Aman have been working closely together for some time in developing Baker & Taylor’s strategic approach to helping libraries improve literacy and learning in the community,” said Pat Connolly, President and CEO of Follett Corporation. “With his proven track record as a visionary leader in both business operations and technology-driven innovation, Aman is the natural successor to build on David’s legacy of success at Baker & Taylor.”
Kochar also is responsible for Baker & Taylor Publisher Services, which provides sales, manufacturing, warehousing and distribution support to small and mid-size publishers.
Kochar joined Baker & Taylor in 2014 after serving as Chief Product Officer/SVP Product Development with McGraw-Hill. Prior to McGraw-Hill, Kochar served in various software development, digital content and sales leadership roles with HCL Technologies, a multi-billion technology solutions company. Additionally, he co-founded a successful startup that specialized in media software, quality assurance & consulting services. Kochar earned his Bachelor of Science degree from Delhi University and MBA from IIT Kharagpur.
Cully joined Baker & Taylor in 2008 and served in several leadership roles before being named President of the business in 2017. He previously held various chief executive and executive president positions at Barnes & Noble, Simon & Schuster, Putnam Berkley Publishing Group and Waldenbooks.
Baker & Taylor is a premier provider of books, digital content and technology solutions that help public libraries improve community outcomes through literacy and learning. Baker & Taylor is part of Follett Corporation, a trusted global source of books, digital content and technologies that help inspire learning and shape education.
Follett Corporation is a leading global source of educational materials, digital content, eCommerce, and multi-media for libraries, schools and institutions. Headquartered in Westchester, Illinois, Follett provides education technology, services and physical and digital content to millions of students at 70,000 schools, and more than 2,700 physical locations and campus eCommerce platforms in North America.
