Go Trademark Yourself

If it's good enough for our President, then why not me?

Say what you want about Donald Trump -- I certainly do -- he is not shy about putting his name out there.

That moniker, of course, is emblazoned not only on the hotels, office buildings and golf courses he has built as a property developer, but also on what marketers call “line extensions” -- golf clubs, sneakers, steaks, vodka, wine and a Trump quilted vest “for her” ($375 at trump.store.com). More than any of his predecessors, our President is a genius at what marketers call “branding.”

Nonetheless, eyebrows were raised recently when the Trump Organization announced it had trademarked his name for use on airports. The news came as Florida’s Republican-dominated House passed a bill, now before the Senate, to put that name on Palm Beach International Airport (PBI).

And why not? The guy has a big house called Mar-a-Lago just minutes from the terminal. In addition, he spends time at another one in Washington D.C., where he also wants to Trump-stamp nearby Dulles International Airport (IAD), currently named after a 1950s Secretary of State.

Trump’s company also said it had trademarked his name for use on such airport feet of accessories as luggage, animal carriers and, oddly, “shoes to protect airline passengers during airport security screenings.” Trademarking would, apparently, let the President collect a fee every time his name is slapped on an airport, or when a Trump-branded item is sold, whether though his website or in a concourse giftshop.

The President’s legal strategy is clearly tied to his ego-boosting quest to put his name on everything from the Kennedy Center to childrens’ savings accounts. But it got me thinking: If he can do it, why can’t I? After all, college athletes in 2021 won the right to monetize their “name, image and likeness” (NIL) and have since made fortunes through endorsements and other deals. I’m no athlete, but I do write the occasional article. So why not try some potentially lucrative line extensions, like song lyrics or greeting cards or fortune-cookie messages?

I contacted the U.S. Patent and Trademark Office. A nice lady there said I could indeed trademark my name and told me to visit the agency’s website, uspto.gov, for details. There I found a primer on how, for a $350 fee, I could obtain that potentially lucrative protected status.

The first step was to check the site’s searchable database to see who else was using my surname. Back came several hundred Morrisons offering everything from “cafeteria services” to “a brush for cleaning between toes.” I narrowed the search to those toiling in the creative arts and found a mere 108 of my namesakes. Prominent among them is Van Morrison, the Irish singer-songwriter who has been knocking out Top 40 hits since the 1960s (“Wild Night,” “Brown-eyed Girl”). He had trademarked his first, middle and last names for music-making and related activities.

So, I went to the website’s start-your-application page. There, I made a stunning discovery: I am already protected. Turns out, everything we write (or paint or compose) and make for public consumption (e.g., on a page or a canvas) is automatically protected by a form of trademark called a copyright. I had somehow eclipsed Trump -- at least in our mutual line of work, since I write all my own stuff and he usually doesn’t.

Now I radiate a new confidence. It’s unlikely someone would use my name or replicate my distinctive style and grace, of course, but if anyone even tried... well, I’d sue their socks off and retire rich as a toe-brush tycoon. Our wealth-respecting President would be pleased.

This new armor made me wonder about a related problem that affects us all. If the words I crank out are protected, how about the numbers and other attributes that I —and you -- produce as we move through the world? Internet platforms shamelessly sell our “data” (names, email addresses, spending habits) for use by third parties to target us for their pitches and wares. I’m no lawyer, but if we generate such data for all to see, aren’t we entitled to copyright protection? And shouldn’t we get a cut of the take?

I raised this point with another nice lady at the Patent and Trademark Office, who referred me to the website. It seems to be mute on the subject, though I haven’t lost hope. Instead, I dig through the site and other legal sources for guidance on how to press my case. No breakthroughs yet, but I march on.

I also thank Donald Trump for helping me realize that the law is the law, and that something so seemingly ludicrous as trademarking one’s name for use on airport-screening shoes should be taken seriously. Say what you want about our President, he occasionally gets something right.