• Pascal's Chatbot Q&As
  • Posts
  • Korean broadcasters are seeking both injunctive relief (to stop alleged infringement) and damages, based on allegations that OpenAI trained ChatGPT on their news content without authorization.

Korean broadcasters are seeking both injunctive relief (to stop alleged infringement) and damages, based on allegations that OpenAI trained ChatGPT on their news content without authorization.

The broadcasters put the emphasis on South Korea’s data sovereignty and the practical barriers local rights holders face when suing global AI firms.

Signal Theft, Sovereignty, and Selective Licensing

What the Korean broadcasters’ lawsuit against OpenAI reveals about the next phase of AI copyright litigation

by ChatGPT-5.2

The lawsuit reportedly filed by South Korea’s three major terrestrial broadcasters—KBS, MBC, and SBS—against OpenAI is important not only because it adds another major media challenge to the generative AI litigation wave, but because it sharpens a theme that has been building globally: rights holders are no longer arguing only about copyright infringement in the abstract; they are increasingly arguing about bargaining power, market discrimination, and data sovereignty.

If the Korea Herald report is accurate (and it appears to summarize statements from the Korea Broadcasters Association), the broadcasters are seeking both injunctive relief (to stop alleged infringement) and damages, based on allegations that OpenAI trained ChatGPT on their news content without authorization. That basic claim resembles many ongoing publisher and author actions worldwide. But this case appears to go further by framing the dispute as a national ecosystem issue—not just a private licensing dispute—especially through the broadcasters’ emphasis on South Korea’s data sovereignty and the practical barriers local rights holders face when suing global AI firms.

In other words, this is not merely “we were copied”; it is closer to: “we were copied, denied a fair licensing pathway, and structurally disadvantaged in enforcing our rights against a global platform that licenses others.” That is a stronger political and strategic narrative than copyright alone.

What the grievances are (as reported)

Based on the attached article, the broadcasters’ grievances appear to include the following:

1) Unauthorized training on broadcasters’ news content

The core allegation is that ChatGPT was trained using the broadcasters’ news content without authorization. This is the familiar training-data complaint at the center of many AI copyright disputes.

2) Bulk use of content treated as “core assets”

The KBA reportedly characterizes the broadcasters’ news content as core assets and the product of substantial work, alleging that it was used in bulk and then exposed through OpenAI’s services. This matters because it emphasizes scale and commercial exploitation, not incidental use.

3) Commercial exploitation without compensation

The statement reportedly argues that OpenAI is generating “astronomical profits” through GPT services while using their content without paying for it. This is the classic value-capture complaint: AI firms capture downstream revenue while upstream content producers bear production costs.

4) Knowledge of licensing obligations

The broadcasters reportedly argue that OpenAI has already entered into paid licensing agreements with media organizations elsewhere, which they say demonstrates OpenAI’s awareness that lawful licenses are required for news content use. This is strategically significant because it tries to undercut any narrative of legal uncertainty or innocent industry-wide ambiguity.

5) Refusal to negotiate with the Korean broadcasters

The article reports a direct grievance that OpenAI refused negotiations with KBS, MBC, and SBS. This shifts the dispute from pure infringement theory into conduct and process: they are not just saying “you copied us,” but also “you would not even engage us.”

The KBA reportedly describes OpenAI’s approach as discriminatory because OpenAI licensed some media companies globally while refusing negotiations with them. This is a potent allegation because it can resonate beyond copyright law—in public discourse, policy, and competition narratives.

7) Litigation burden asymmetry for domestic rights holders

The broadcasters reportedly highlight that individual creators and domestic rights holders face major barriers in suing global tech firms due to cost and burden of proof. This frames the case as a representative or ecosystem-protective action, not only a private dispute.

8) Protection of creators and fair compensation as a systemic objective

They reportedly present the suit as a way to protect creators and copyright holders more broadly and to ensure fair compensation from both domestic and global AI firms. This broadens the moral and policy claim beyond the broadcasters’ own catalog.

9) Data sovereignty concerns

The association reportedly emphasizes that the case is fundamentally about South Korea’s data sovereignty. That is one of the most important aspects of this lawsuit, because it ties content rights to national digital autonomy and governance.

Why this case matters beyond Korea

This case matters because it suggests that the next stage of AI litigation may become more nationally organized, sector-organized, and sovereignty-inflected.

Earlier lawsuits often centered on:

  • whether training is infringement,

  • whether outputs are substantially similar,

  • whether fair use applies,

  • whether plaintiffs can prove market harm.

This Korean broadcaster action appears to preserve those issues while adding:

  • licensing parity,

  • procedural fairness in negotiations,

  • cross-border bargaining asymmetry, and

  • national control over cultural/news data assets.

That is a meaningful escalation in framing. It is harder for AI providers to resolve politically with a narrow technical or doctrinal defense alone.

How this compares to other ongoing cases

1) Like news publisher suits (e.g., NYT and other media cases): training + output + monetization

This case resembles the news-industry lawsuits against OpenAI/Microsoft in that it alleges unauthorized use of news content for model training and commercial AI services. The shared logic is straightforward: journalism is expensive to produce, and AI systems can absorb and monetize that value without licensing.

Difference: The Korean case (as reported) appears more explicit in framing the issue as discriminatory licensing treatment and data sovereignty, whereas many U.S. cases have foregrounded copyright, market substitution, and specific output behavior.

2) Like author cases: asymmetry of proof and discovery burdens

Authors’ lawsuits have repeatedly faced the challenge of proving what was ingested, how models were trained, and how outputs connect to source works. The Korean broadcasters’ statement about the burden on domestic rights holders mirrors this broader litigation reality: plaintiffs often face massive evidentiary asymmetry against well-capitalized AI firms.

Difference: Large broadcasters acting together may have more institutional capacity than individual authors, and may be better positioned to fund long litigation and coordinate evidence.

3) Like music and collecting-society cases: organized rights-holder strategy

The reported collective posture through the KBA resembles the strategic advantages seen in some music-sector actions, where collective organizations or large rightsholder coalitions can litigate at scale and frame the case as systemic.

Difference: News content introduces an added public-interest layer (democracy, information integrity, and national media infrastructure), which can influence courts and policymakers even when legal standards are unsettled.

4) Like non-U.S. cases: alternative legal hooks beyond “fair use”

In many jurisdictions outside the U.S., litigation may not be dominated by the U.S. fair use framework. The article itself references the broadcasters’ earlier action against Naver involving copyright law and the Unfair Competition Prevention Act. That signals a broader toolkit than classic copyright pleading alone.

Difference: Even where AI firms rely on global “publicly available data” narratives, local law may permit claims grounded in unfair competition, database-like protections, or other doctrines that operate differently from U.S. fair use debates.

5) A notable strategic contrast: litigation against one company, partnership with another

The article points out an apparent tension: the same broadcasters had previously sued Naver, and later KBS publicly partnered with Naver on AI workflows. This is not necessarily contradictory—litigation and licensing can coexist—but it reveals an important trend:

  • Rights holders may oppose unlicensed ingestion while still supporting licensed AI collaboration.

  • The message is not “no AI,” but “AI on negotiated terms.”

That is exactly the distinction many publishers globally are trying to establish.

The most important strategic features of this lawsuit

A) It attacks selective licensing as a legitimacy problem

If a company licenses some major media organizations but refuses to negotiate with others, plaintiffs can argue the issue is not legal uncertainty but selective power exercise. That argument can be very persuasive in politics, regulation, and public opinion.

By invoking data sovereignty, the broadcasters elevate the stakes from private loss to national strategic dependence. In your broader framing (which often emphasizes power, infrastructure, and institutional lag), this is exactly the kind of move we should expect more of.

C) It signals coordinated institutional litigation, not isolated creator suits

This reduces one of the AI firms’ recurring advantages: fragmentation among rights holders. Collective action increases leverage.

D) It reinforces the “license-or-litigate” equilibrium

Many ongoing disputes are converging on the same practical outcome: if AI firms want stable access to high-quality, current, trusted content, they will need scalable licensing frameworks—especially for news, research, and other professionally curated domains.

Risks and weaknesses in the broadcasters’ position (or at least litigation challenges)

Even if the grievances are compelling, plaintiffs in this category often face difficult hurdles:

  1. Proof of ingestion and use
    They may need strong evidence linking specific broadcaster content to training datasets, model behavior, or internal data pipelines.

  2. Causation and damages quantification
    Courts may ask how to measure harm: lost licensing revenue, substitution, unjust enrichment, reputational harm, or another metric.

  3. Output evidence vs training claims
    If outputs do not reliably reproduce broadcaster material, defendants may argue the use is transformative or non-substitutive.

  4. Publicly available content defenses / implied access arguments
    AI providers often argue access to publicly available content is lawful, while the legal question is what kind of copying/use occurred and whether defenses apply.

  5. Inconsistency narratives (e.g., partnership with Naver after litigation)
    Defendants may try to use the KBS-Naver partnership to argue pragmatism, waiver, or mixed motives. Plaintiffs will need to clearly maintain the line between licensed collaboration and unlicensed exploitation.

None of these challenges negate the case. They simply mean plaintiffs need a very disciplined evidentiary and narrative strategy.

Recommendations for AI providers

1) Stop treating licensing as a PR layer

Selective deals with a few high-profile media brands while refusing others creates litigation and regulatory exposure. Build transparent licensing principles and eligibility criteria.

2) Create a documented negotiation pathway for rights holders

Even if you decline certain requests, provide a formal intake, response timeline, and reasoned process. “No engagement” is strategically worse than “no deal.”

3) Segment content classes by risk

News, scholarly publishing, legal, educational, and other professionally curated sectors should be treated as high-sensitivity content classes with stronger provenance and permission controls.

4) Improve provenance, auditability, and explainability

You do not need to reveal trade secrets to support defensible compliance. But you do need stronger audit trails, content-source controls, and governance records.

5) Develop scalable collective licensing mechanisms

The current one-off deal model does not scale globally. AI providers should work with collecting societies, broadcaster associations, publisher consortia, and sector bodies.

6) Avoid jurisdictional arrogance

What may be arguable in one legal system may be politically or legally untenable in another. Local legal cultures and sovereignty concerns now matter materially.

7) Separate “innovation” rhetoric from rights compliance

Courts and policymakers increasingly see this binary as false. The more AI firms frame compliance as anti-innovation, the more they invite stricter regulation.

8) Prepare for sovereign-content regulation

If more countries adopt a data sovereignty framing, AI providers may face localization, licensing, or sector-specific access rules. Plan now, not after injunctions.

Lessons for other rights owners who are litigants (or considering litigation)

1) Litigate collectively where possible

Coalitions reduce cost, increase bargaining power, and strengthen the policy narrative. Fragmented plaintiffs are easier to outlast.

2) Frame the case as market structure, not only infringement

Copyright claims matter, but courts and regulators also react to evidence of asymmetry, selective licensing, and unfair bargaining conduct.

3) Document attempted engagement

If you sought negotiation and were ignored or refused, preserve the record. This can be highly persuasive in court and in public policy debates.

4) Separate anti-AI from pro-license messaging

The strongest posture is often: “We support AI innovation, but only on lawful and fair terms.” This avoids being caricatured as anti-technology.

5) Build an evidence package before filing

Capture examples of:

  • scraping or access patterns,

  • model outputs,

  • market substitution effects,

  • licensing comparators,

  • internal valuation of your content assets,

  • evidence of harm to traffic/revenue/brand.

Depending on jurisdiction, consider copyright plus unfair competition, database rights, contractual claims, technological measures issues, or consumer/confusion harms (if relevant).

7) Anticipate discovery asymmetry

Budget and plan for long disclosure fights. Technical experts and forensic support are not optional in major AI cases.

8) Coordinate litigation with licensing strategy

Litigation should not block future deals. In fact, the goal may be to create leverage for better industry terms.

9) Prepare a public-interest narrative

For news organizations, this can include democratic information ecosystems; for scholarly publishers, research integrity and provenance; for education, quality and trust.

10) Plan for settlement from day one

Even strong cases often settle. Decide in advance what “good enough” looks like: money, licensing terms, attribution, safeguards, audit rights, deletion commitments, or future-use restrictions.

Final perspective

This Korean broadcaster lawsuit appears to be part of a broader transition from the first generation of AI copyright litigation (“did you copy?”) to a second generation (“who gets to set the terms for AI-era use of high-value content, under what governance, and on whose timeline?”).

That is why the data sovereignty language matters so much. It suggests that disputes over AI training data are no longer only about copyright doctrine. They are becoming disputes about institutional power, national media autonomy, and whether global AI firms can selectively decide which creators and countries are worthy of negotiation.

If that framing spreads, AI providers will face not just more lawsuits, but a tougher strategic environment in which legal compliance, licensing architecture, and geopolitical legitimacy converge.