wildercb/PrivacyTextBooks1.2 · Datasets at Hugging Face

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as having “a certain childlike charm.” But the article is merciless in its
dissection of intimate details of its subject’s personal life, and this in
company with elaborate accounts of Sidis’ passion for privacy and the
pitiable lengths to which he has gone in order to avoid public scrutiny. The
work possesses great reader interest, for it is both amusing and instructive;
but it may be fairly described as a ruthless exposure of a once public
character, who has since sought and has now been deprived of the seclusion
of private life.
The article of December 25, 1937, was a biographical sketch of another
former child prodigy, in the course of which William James Sidis and the
recent account of him were mentioned. The advertisement published in the
New York World-Telegram of August 13, 1937, read: “Out Today. Harvard
Prodigy. Biography of the man who astonished Harvard at age 11. Where
are they now? by J.L. Manley. Page 22. The New Yorker.”
The complaint contains a general allegation, repeated for all the claims,
of publication by the defendant of The New Yorker, “a weekly magazine of
wide circulation throughout the United States.” Then each separate “cause”
contains an allegation that the defendant publicly circulated the articles or
caused them to be circulated in the particular states upon whose law that
cause is assumed to be founded. Circulation of the New York World-
Telegram advertisement is, however, alleged only with respect to the second
“cause,” for asserted violation of New York law.
Under the first “cause of action” we are asked to declare that this
exposure transgresses upon plaintiff’s right of privacy, as recognized in
California, Georgia, Kansas, Kentucky, and Missouri. Each of these states
except California grants to the individual a common law right, and
California a constitutional right, to be let alone to a certain extent. The
decisions have been carefully analyzed by the court below, and we need not
examine them further. None of the cited rulings goes so far as to prevent a
newspaper or magazine from publishing the truth about a person, however
intimate, revealing, or harmful the truth may be. Nor are there any decided
cases that confer such a privilege upon the press. . . .
It must be conceded that under the strict standards suggested by [Warren
and Brandeis in their article, The Right to Privacy] plaintiff’s right of
privacy has been invaded. Sidis today is neither politician, public
administrator, nor statesman. Even if he were, some of the personal details
revealed were of the sort that Warren and Brandeis believed “all men alike
are entitled to keep from popular curiosity.”
But despite eminent opinion to the contrary, we are not yet disposed to
afford to all of the intimate details of private life an absolute immunity from
the prying of the press. Everyone will agree that at some point the public
interest in obtaining information becomes dominant over the individual’s
desire for privacy. Warren and Brandeis were willing to lift the veil
somewhat in the case of public officers. We would go further, though we
are not yet prepared to say how far. At least we would permit limited
scrutiny of the “private” life of any person who has achieved, or has had
thrust upon him, the questionable and indefinable status of a “public
figure.”
William James Sidis was once a public figure. As a child prodigy, he
excited both admiration and curiosity. Of him great deeds were expected. In
1910, he was a person about whom the newspapers might display a
legitimate intellectual interest, in the sense meant by Warren and Brandeis,
as distinguished from a trivial and unseemly curiosity. But the precise
motives of the press we regard as unimportant. And even if Sidis had
loathed public attention at that time, we think his uncommon achievements
and personality would have made the attention permissible. Since then Sidis
has cloaked himself in obscurity, but his subsequent history, containing as it
did the answer to the question of whether or not he had fulfilled his early
promise, was still a matter of public concern. The article in The New Yorker
sketched the life of an unusual personality, and it possessed considerable
popular news interest.
We express no comment on whether or not the newsworthiness of the
matter printed will always constitute a complete defense. Revelations may
be so intimate and so unwarranted in view of the victim’s position as to
outrage the community’s notions of decency. But when focused upon public
characters, truthful comments upon dress, speech, habits, and the ordinary
aspects of personality will usually not transgress this line. Regrettably or
not, the misfortunes and frailties of neighbors and “public figures” are
subjects of considerable interest and discussion to the rest of the population.
And when such are the mores of the community, it would be unwise for a
court to bar their expression in the newspapers, books, and magazines of the
day.
Plaintiff in his first “cause of action” charged actual malice in the
publication, and now claims that an order of dismissal was improper in the
face of such an allegation. We cannot agree. If plaintiff’s right of privacy
was not invaded by the article, the existence of actual malice in its
publication would not change that result. Unless made so by statute, a
truthful and therefore non-libelous statement will not become libelous when
uttered maliciously. A similar rule should prevail on invasions of the right
of privacy. “Personal ill-will is not an ingredient of the offence, any more
than in an ordinary case of trespass to person or to property.” Warren and
Brandeis, supra at page 218. Nor does the malice give rise to an
independent wrong based on an intentional invasion of the plaintiff’s
interest in mental and emotional tranquility.
If the article appearing in the issue of August 14, 1937, does not furnish
grounds for action, then it is clear that the brief and incidental reference to it
contained in the article of December 25, 1937, is not actionable. . . .
[The court concluded that the second cause of action under N.Y. Civil
Rights Law was properly dismissed as well. The second cause of action
charged invasion of the rights conferred on plaintiff by §§ 50 and 51 of the
N.Y. Civil Rights Law. Section 50 states: “A person, firm or corporation
that uses for advertising purposes, or for the purposes of trade, the name,
portrait or picture of any living person without having first obtained the
written consent of such person, or if a minor of his or her parent or
guardian, is guilty of a misdemeanor.” Section 51 gives the injured person
an injunction remedy and damages. The court found: “Though a publisher
sells a commodity, and expects to profit from the sale of his product, he is
immune from the interdict of Secs. 50 and 51 so long as he confines himself
to the unembroidered dissemination of facts. . . . The New Yorker articles
limit themselves to the unvarnished, unfictionalized truth.”]

as having “a certain childlike charm.” But the article is merciless in its

dissection of intimate details of its subject’s personal life, and this in

company with elaborate accounts of Sidis’ passion for privacy and the

pitiable lengths to which he has gone in order to avoid public scrutiny. The

work possesses great reader interest, for it is both amusing and instructive;

but it may be fairly described as a ruthless exposure of a once public

character, who has since sought and has now been deprived of the seclusion

of private life.

The article of December 25, 1937, was a biographical sketch of another

former child prodigy, in the course of which William James Sidis and the

recent account of him were mentioned. The advertisement published in the

New York World-Telegram of August 13, 1937, read: “Out Today. Harvard

Prodigy. Biography of the man who astonished Harvard at age 11. Where

are they now? by J.L. Manley. Page 22. The New Yorker.”

The complaint contains a general allegation, repeated for all the claims,

of publication by the defendant of The New Yorker, “a weekly magazine of

wide circulation throughout the United States.” Then each separate “cause”

contains an allegation that the defendant publicly circulated the articles or

caused them to be circulated in the particular states upon whose law that

cause is assumed to be founded. Circulation of the New York World-

Telegram advertisement is, however, alleged only with respect to the second

“cause,” for asserted violation of New York law.

Under the first “cause of action” we are asked to declare that this

exposure transgresses upon plaintiff’s right of privacy, as recognized in

California, Georgia, Kansas, Kentucky, and Missouri. Each of these states

except California grants to the individual a common law right, and

California a constitutional right, to be let alone to a certain extent. The

decisions have been carefully analyzed by the court below, and we need not

examine them further. None of the cited rulings goes so far as to prevent a

newspaper or magazine from publishing the truth about a person, however

intimate, revealing, or harmful the truth may be. Nor are there any decided

cases that confer such a privilege upon the press. . . .

It must be conceded that under the strict standards suggested by [Warren

and Brandeis in their article, The Right to Privacy] plaintiff’s right of

privacy has been invaded. Sidis today is neither politician, public

administrator, nor statesman. Even if he were, some of the personal details

revealed were of the sort that Warren and Brandeis believed “all men alike

are entitled to keep from popular curiosity.”

But despite eminent opinion to the contrary, we are not yet disposed to

afford to all of the intimate details of private life an absolute immunity from

the prying of the press. Everyone will agree that at some point the public

interest in obtaining information becomes dominant over the individual’s

desire for privacy. Warren and Brandeis were willing to lift the veil

somewhat in the case of public officers. We would go further, though we

are not yet prepared to say how far. At least we would permit limited

scrutiny of the “private” life of any person who has achieved, or has had

thrust upon him, the questionable and indefinable status of a “public

figure.”

William James Sidis was once a public figure. As a child prodigy, he

excited both admiration and curiosity. Of him great deeds were expected. In

1910, he was a person about whom the newspapers might display a

legitimate intellectual interest, in the sense meant by Warren and Brandeis,

as distinguished from a trivial and unseemly curiosity. But the precise

motives of the press we regard as unimportant. And even if Sidis had

loathed public attention at that time, we think his uncommon achievements

and personality would have made the attention permissible. Since then Sidis

has cloaked himself in obscurity, but his subsequent history, containing as it

did the answer to the question of whether or not he had fulfilled his early

promise, was still a matter of public concern. The article in The New Yorker

sketched the life of an unusual personality, and it possessed considerable