wildercb/PrivacyTextBooks1.2 · Datasets at Hugging Face

text stringlengths 0 118
study of privacy law also helps us understand how our legal institutions
respond to change and may help prepare us for other challenges ahead.
SIDIS V. F-R PUBLISHING CORP.
113 F.2d 806 (2d Cir. 1940)
[William James Sidis (1898–1944) was perhaps the most famous child
prodigy of his day. According to Amy Wallace’s biography of Sidis, The
Prodigy, he was able to read the New York Times at the age of 18 months.1
By the time he was three, William had learned to operate a typewriter and
used it to compose a letter to Macy’s to order toys. At that age, he also
learned Latin “as a birthday present for his father.” That year, after his
father taught him the Greek alphabet, he taught himself to read Homer with
the aid of a Greek primer. By the time he started elementary school, at the
age of six, he could speak and read at least eight languages. At the age of
five, he had already devised a method for calculating the day of the week on
which any given date occurred, and when he was seven years old, he wrote
a book about calendars. At that time, he had already prepared manuscripts
about anatomy, astronomy, grammar, linguistics, and mathematics. At the
age of eight, he created a new table of logarithms, which used a base of 12
instead of the conventional ten. From early childhood on, Sidis was also
passionately interested in politics and world events. According to Wallace,
Sidis was one of the few child prodigies in world history whose talents were
not limited to a single field.
In 1909, Harvard University permitted Sidis to enroll in it; he was 11
years old and the youngest student in the history of Harvard. Sidis also
made the front pages of newspapers around the nation when on January 5,
1910, he delivered a two-hour lecture to the Harvard Mathematics Club.
The New York Times featured Sidis on its front page of October 11, 1909, as
“Harvard’s Child Prodigy.”2
Boris Sidis, William’s father, was a distinguished physician, early
pioneer of American psychology (and opponent of Sigmund Freud), and
prolific author. In 1911, Boris published a book about his educational
theories and his virulent opposition to the educational institutions of the
day. At the time of the publication of this book, Philistine and Genius,
William was 13, and in Wallace’s description, “teetering on the edge of his
endurance to public exposure.” Although the book did not mention his son
by name, it did discuss him and his accomplishments, which brought
William additional publicity. Sarah Sidis, William’s mother and herself a
physician, had a domineering and deeply troubled relationship with her son.
Neither she nor Boris did anything to shelter William from the great
publicity that followed him from an early age and the tremendous stress that
it created in his life.
When he graduated from Harvard at age 16, William told reporters: “I
want to live the perfect life. The only way to live the perfect life is to live it
in seclusion. I have always hated crowds.” After graduating from college,
Sidis accepted a teaching position at the Rice University in Houston. After a
difficult eight months as a professor of mathematics there, William returned
to Boston and enrolled in Harvard Law School in 1916. He left the law
school in his last semester there without taking a degree.
From 1918 until a New Yorker article about him in 1937, Sidis engaged
in socialist and other radical politics, published numerous newsletters, lived
an active social life, addressed a monthly study group, wrote a treatise
about the classification of streetcar transfers, and financed his life through a
series of modest clerical jobs and sales of his patented “perpetual calendar.”
During this period, in 1925, Sidis also published The Animate and the
Inanimate. In Wallace’s view, this book is the first work on the subject of
“black holes” in space as well as an extraordinary work in the field of
cosmogony, or the study of the origins of the universe. The book did not
receive a single review at the time and was ignored by academia.
Before 1937, Sidis had done an excellent job of avoiding publicity for a
decade. In that year, however, a local paper, the Boston Sunday Advertiser,
published an article about him. This was followed by the August 14, 1937,
issue of the New Yorker, which contained a brief biographical sketch about
Sidis, his life following his graduation from Harvard, and the subsequent
decades during which he lived in obscurity.3 The article was part of a
regular feature of the magazine called “Where Are They Now?,” which
provided brief updates on the lives of famous figures of the past. The article
was printed under the subtitle April Fool, a reference to the fact that Sidis
was born on April Fool’s Day. The article recounted the history of Sidis’s
life and his current whereabouts: “William James Sidis lives today, at the
age of thirty-nine, in a hall bedroom of Boston’s shabby south end.” The
article also contained numerous errors about Sidis’s life.
A mystery still exists regarding the interview at the basis of this article.
According to Wallace, Sidis’s contemporary biographer, a member of the
monthly study group, whom she refers to only as “John,” had brought along
a friend to one meeting. Several members of this group suspected that this
woman, who was the daughter of a publisher at a large company, served as
the basis for the New Yorker’s report. Yet, the mystery remains as this
individual did not interview Sidis at the time of the monthly meeting.
Wallace writes: “William always maintained that the entire article was a
combination of imagination and old stories about him, and no strangers had
gained access to his room.” Another possibility is that Sidis spoke to
someone without knowing that she was a reporter, which seems unlikely
due to his aversion to publicity.
The New Yorker article described Sidis’s famous childhood and then
recounted his subsequent career as an insignificant clerk: “He seems to get
a great and ironic enjoyment out of leading a life of wandering
irresponsibility after a childhood of scrupulous regimentation.” Sidis never
remained at one job for too long because “his employers or fellow-workers
[would] soon find out that he is the famous boy wonder, and he can’t
tolerate a position after that.” According to Sidis: “The very sight of a
mathematical formula makes me physically ill. . . . All I want to do is run
an adding machine, but they won’t let me alone.” The article also described
Sidis’s dwelling, a small bedroom in a poor part of Boston and his personal
activities, interests, and habits.
In his legal action against the Boston Sunday Advertiser, Sidis won a
settlement of $375. Sidis also sued F-R Publishing Corporation, the
publisher of the New Yorker. Among his claims were a violation of his
privacy rights under §§ 50-51 of the N.Y. Civil Rights Law.]
CLARK, C.J. . . . It is not contended that any of the matter printed is
untrue. Nor is the manner of the author unfriendly; Sidis today is described

study of privacy law also helps us understand how our legal institutions

respond to change and may help prepare us for other challenges ahead.

SIDIS V. F-R PUBLISHING CORP.

113 F.2d 806 (2d Cir. 1940)

[William James Sidis (1898–1944) was perhaps the most famous child

prodigy of his day. According to Amy Wallace’s biography of Sidis, The

Prodigy, he was able to read the New York Times at the age of 18 months.1

By the time he was three, William had learned to operate a typewriter and

used it to compose a letter to Macy’s to order toys. At that age, he also

learned Latin “as a birthday present for his father.” That year, after his

father taught him the Greek alphabet, he taught himself to read Homer with

the aid of a Greek primer. By the time he started elementary school, at the

age of six, he could speak and read at least eight languages. At the age of

five, he had already devised a method for calculating the day of the week on

which any given date occurred, and when he was seven years old, he wrote

a book about calendars. At that time, he had already prepared manuscripts

about anatomy, astronomy, grammar, linguistics, and mathematics. At the

age of eight, he created a new table of logarithms, which used a base of 12

instead of the conventional ten. From early childhood on, Sidis was also

passionately interested in politics and world events. According to Wallace,

Sidis was one of the few child prodigies in world history whose talents were

not limited to a single field.

In 1909, Harvard University permitted Sidis to enroll in it; he was 11

years old and the youngest student in the history of Harvard. Sidis also

made the front pages of newspapers around the nation when on January 5,

1910, he delivered a two-hour lecture to the Harvard Mathematics Club.

The New York Times featured Sidis on its front page of October 11, 1909, as

“Harvard’s Child Prodigy.”2

Boris Sidis, William’s father, was a distinguished physician, early

pioneer of American psychology (and opponent of Sigmund Freud), and

prolific author. In 1911, Boris published a book about his educational

theories and his virulent opposition to the educational institutions of the

day. At the time of the publication of this book, Philistine and Genius,

William was 13, and in Wallace’s description, “teetering on the edge of his

endurance to public exposure.” Although the book did not mention his son

by name, it did discuss him and his accomplishments, which brought

William additional publicity. Sarah Sidis, William’s mother and herself a

physician, had a domineering and deeply troubled relationship with her son.

Neither she nor Boris did anything to shelter William from the great

publicity that followed him from an early age and the tremendous stress that

it created in his life.

When he graduated from Harvard at age 16, William told reporters: “I

want to live the perfect life. The only way to live the perfect life is to live it

in seclusion. I have always hated crowds.” After graduating from college,

Sidis accepted a teaching position at the Rice University in Houston. After a

difficult eight months as a professor of mathematics there, William returned

to Boston and enrolled in Harvard Law School in 1916. He left the law

school in his last semester there without taking a degree.

From 1918 until a New Yorker article about him in 1937, Sidis engaged

in socialist and other radical politics, published numerous newsletters, lived

an active social life, addressed a monthly study group, wrote a treatise

about the classification of streetcar transfers, and financed his life through a

series of modest clerical jobs and sales of his patented “perpetual calendar.”

During this period, in 1925, Sidis also published The Animate and the

Inanimate. In Wallace’s view, this book is the first work on the subject of

“black holes” in space as well as an extraordinary work in the field of

cosmogony, or the study of the origins of the universe. The book did not

receive a single review at the time and was ignored by academia.

Before 1937, Sidis had done an excellent job of avoiding publicity for a

decade. In that year, however, a local paper, the Boston Sunday Advertiser,

published an article about him. This was followed by the August 14, 1937,

issue of the New Yorker, which contained a brief biographical sketch about

Sidis, his life following his graduation from Harvard, and the subsequent

decades during which he lived in obscurity.3 The article was part of a

regular feature of the magazine called “Where Are They Now?,” which

provided brief updates on the lives of famous figures of the past. The article

was printed under the subtitle April Fool, a reference to the fact that Sidis

was born on April Fool’s Day. The article recounted the history of Sidis’s

life and his current whereabouts: “William James Sidis lives today, at the

age of thirty-nine, in a hall bedroom of Boston’s shabby south end.” The

article also contained numerous errors about Sidis’s life.

A mystery still exists regarding the interview at the basis of this article.

According to Wallace, Sidis’s contemporary biographer, a member of the

monthly study group, whom she refers to only as “John,” had brought along

a friend to one meeting. Several members of this group suspected that this

woman, who was the daughter of a publisher at a large company, served as

the basis for the New Yorker’s report. Yet, the mystery remains as this

individual did not interview Sidis at the time of the monthly meeting.

Wallace writes: “William always maintained that the entire article was a

combination of imagination and old stories about him, and no strangers had

gained access to his room.” Another possibility is that Sidis spoke to

someone without knowing that she was a reporter, which seems unlikely

due to his aversion to publicity.

The New Yorker article described Sidis’s famous childhood and then

recounted his subsequent career as an insignificant clerk: “He seems to get

a great and ironic enjoyment out of leading a life of wandering

irresponsibility after a childhood of scrupulous regimentation.” Sidis never

remained at one job for too long because “his employers or fellow-workers

[would] soon find out that he is the famous boy wonder, and he can’t

tolerate a position after that.” According to Sidis: “The very sight of a

mathematical formula makes me physically ill. . . . All I want to do is run

an adding machine, but they won’t let me alone.” The article also described

Sidis’s dwelling, a small bedroom in a poor part of Boston and his personal

activities, interests, and habits.

In his legal action against the Boston Sunday Advertiser, Sidis won a

settlement of $375. Sidis also sued F-R Publishing Corporation, the

publisher of the New Yorker. Among his claims were a violation of his

privacy rights under §§ 50-51 of the N.Y. Civil Rights Law.]

CLARK, C.J. . . . It is not contended that any of the matter printed is

untrue. Nor is the manner of the author unfriendly; Sidis today is described