The New York Times has filed a motion to amend its copyright infringement lawsuit against Microsoft and OpenAI, alleging that Microsoft designed and built a custom supercomputing system specifically to enable OpenAI to train large language models using millions of Times articles without permission. The amended complaint, submitted to the U.S. District Court for the Southern District of New York on June 25, 2026, describes the infrastructure as a tailored platform comprising more than 285,000 CPU cores and 10,000 GPUs, rather than generic cloud compute.

The amendment follows a June 2026 Supreme Court decision in *Cox Communications v. Sony*, which raised the legal standard for proving contributory copyright infringement. Under the new precedent, plaintiffs must demonstrate that a defendant not only knew about infringement but actively encouraged it. The Times reshaped its complaint to meet this higher threshold, arguing that Microsoft intentionally induced illegal conduct by co-designing the supercomputer to prioritize the ingestion of copyrighted material. The filing alleges that the system allowed OpenAI’s models to reproduce large portions of Times articles verbatim, bypass paywalls, and generate fabricated content falsely attributed to the newspaper. The Times claims this has harmed its business by reducing traffic, subscriptions, and advertising revenue, while also damaging its reputation through hallucinated citations.

Microsoft’s $13 billion partnership with OpenAI is central to the lawsuit, which portrays the supercomputer as part of a broader strategy to capitalize on AI training using protected content. The Times seeks permanent injunctive relief, extensive damages, and the removal of copyrighted material from the defendants’ AI systems. The complaint notes that Microsoft’s market capitalization increased by $1 trillion over the past year amid its AI-focused corporate strategy, which includes integrating OpenAI’s technology into products under the "Copilot" brand.

Microsoft has characterized the amended complaint as a "last-ditch effort" to salvage the case after recent legal setbacks, while OpenAI maintains that training on publicly available data constitutes fair use. Neither company has formally responded to the specific allegations in the amendment. The Times has voluntarily dismissed two other contributory-infringement and trademark-dilution claims but will not request additional discovery for the amended claims.

The court’s decision on whether to grant the motion to amend could expand Microsoft’s legal exposure beyond the existing claims against OpenAI. Filed originally on December 27, 2023—making it one of the longest-running AI copyright cases in U.S. history—the lawsuit may set a precedent for how technology companies structure partnerships and compute resources for AI model training. The outcome could also determine whether AI companies must compensate publishers for using copyrighted material in training datasets. The case follows other lawsuits from publishers accusing Microsoft and OpenAI of using copyrighted news content without permission or compensation, with some warning that the practice threatens the future of local journalism.

Original Sources/Tags: arstechnica.com, nytimes.com, ibtimes.co.uk, cryptobriefing.com, arstechnica.com, cryptobriefing.com, gadgetreview.com, me.mashable.com, (openai), (microsoft), (amendment), (articles), (discovery)

This article provides no actionable information for an ordinary reader. It recounts a legal dispute between major corporations and institutions without offering steps, choices, or tools that a person could use in their daily life. The references to legal standards, supercomputing systems, and market capitalization are abstract and do not translate into practical guidance. There are no resources, checklists, or instructions that a reader could follow to protect their interests, verify claims, or make informed decisions.

The educational depth is limited to surface-level facts about the lawsuit. The article mentions the Supreme Court’s decision in the Cox Communications case but does not explain how the legal standard changed or why it matters. It describes Microsoft’s supercomputing system as "one of the world’s most powerful" but does not clarify how such systems work, how they are used in AI training, or what makes them distinct from other technologies. The discussion of "fabricated articles" and "hallucinated citations" is presented without context about how AI models generate errors or how often such mistakes occur. Numbers like Microsoft’s trillion-dollar market capitalization increase are thrown in without analysis of what drove the growth or how much of it might be attributable to AI. The article does not help the reader understand the underlying systems, legal principles, or technological processes at play.

Personal relevance is narrow. The information affects only a small group of people: legal professionals, investors in Microsoft or OpenAI, journalists concerned with copyright law, and perhaps academics studying AI ethics. For the average person, this lawsuit does not impact safety, finances, health, or daily decision-making. It does not provide insights into how AI-generated content might affect their work, how to identify misinformation, or what steps they could take to protect their own intellectual property. The dispute is distant and specialized, with no clear connection to the lives of most readers.

The public service function is minimal. The article does not offer warnings, safety guidance, or emergency information. It does not explain how the public might be affected by AI-generated content or what precautions they could take. Instead, it reads like a summary of a legal filing, intended to inform rather than serve. There is no attempt to contextualize the lawsuit within broader issues like AI regulation, copyright reform, or the ethical use of publicly available data. The piece does not help the public act responsibly or make informed choices about technology.

Practical advice is entirely absent. The closest thing to guidance is the mention of OpenAI’s claim that training on publicly available data constitutes fair use—a legal argument, not a recommendation for readers. There are no steps for evaluating AI-generated content, protecting personal data, or understanding the implications of AI training practices. The advice is either too vague (e.g., "seek legal counsel") or nonexistent.

The long-term impact of this article is limited to documenting a single legal event without helping readers plan ahead. It does not discuss how similar lawsuits might shape AI development, how copyright law could evolve, or what risks or opportunities might arise for individuals or businesses. Without analysis of potential repercussions, the piece offers no lasting benefit beyond the immediate news hook.

Emotionally, the article may provoke curiosity or concern about the power of tech giants, but it provides no constructive response. The reader is left with a sense of uncertainty about the future of AI and copyright, without tools to navigate these changes. The language leans toward sensationalism, particularly in phrases like "one of the world’s most powerful" supercomputers and "increased by a trillion dollars," which emphasize scale and drama without substance. The characterization of the amendment as a "last-ditch effort" by Microsoft’s spokesperson adds a layer of conflict but does not help the reader understand the stakes or implications.

The article misses several opportunities to educate or guide. It could have explained how AI training works, what fair use means in practice, or how individuals can protect their own creative work from unauthorized use. It could have provided examples of how AI-generated content might appear in daily life, along with tips for identifying and verifying it. It could have discussed the broader ethical questions surrounding AI training on copyrighted material or the potential consequences of restrictive legal rulings. None of these are present.

To give the reader something useful despite the article’s shortcomings, consider the following general principles. If you create original content—whether writing, art, music, or other works—be aware that AI systems may train on publicly available material, including yours. While legal standards are still evolving, you can take basic steps to protect your work. Register your copyrights if you want stronger legal protections, though this is not always necessary. Clearly label your content with ownership information, and consider using digital watermarks or metadata to track its use. If you find your work being used without permission, document the misuse and consult a legal professional to explore your options.

When interacting with AI-generated content, approach it with caution. AI models can produce errors, fabrications, or misleading information, especially when generating citations or factual claims. Cross-check AI outputs with trusted sources, particularly for important decisions like medical advice, financial planning, or legal matters. Be skeptical of content that lacks clear attribution or seems too good to be true. If you rely on AI tools for work or research, verify their outputs independently and avoid using them for tasks that require high accuracy or originality.

For those concerned about the broader implications of AI, stay informed about legal and regulatory developments. Follow reputable sources that cover technology and intellectual property law, and consider how changes might affect your industry or personal interests. Advocate for policies that balance innovation with ethical considerations, such as transparency in AI training data and protections for creators. While you may not have direct control over corporate lawsuits, understanding the issues can help you make better decisions about how you use and interact with AI technologies.

Finally, remember that technology is a tool—its impact depends on how it is used by individuals and organizations. By staying informed, verifying information, and protecting your own work, you can navigate the uncertainties of AI more effectively. These steps do not require specialized knowledge or external data, yet they help anyone adapt to the changing landscape of digital content and artificial intelligence.

The text says Microsoft "designed a custom supercomputing system... specifically to enable OpenAI to train large language models on the Times’s articles without permission." The word "specifically" makes it sound like Microsoft did this only to steal. This helps the Times by making Microsoft look like a clear villain. It hides that many companies train AI on public data. The word choice pushes the idea that Microsoft had no other reason.

The Times says the system "was built to prioritize its own content." The word "prioritize" makes it sound like Microsoft only wanted the Times’s work. This helps the Times by making the harm seem planned. It hides that AI training often uses many sources. The wording makes the reader think Microsoft only cared about the Times.

The text calls the brownies "fabricated articles that falsely cite the newspaper." The word "fabricated" is very strong. It makes the AI sound like it lies on purpose. This helps the Times by making the harm seem bigger. It hides that AI sometimes makes mistakes, not always lies. The word choice makes the reader feel more anger.

The text says Microsoft’s market capitalization "increased by a trillion dollars in the past year." The number is huge and sounds unfair. This helps the Times by making Microsoft look rich from stealing. It hides that market growth can come from many things. The big number makes the reader think all the money came from the Times.

Microsoft’s spokesperson calls the amendment a "last-ditch effort." The phrase makes the Times sound weak and desperate. This helps Microsoft by making the lawsuit seem like a trick. It hides that the Times might have a real case. The wording makes the reader doubt the Times.

The text says the Times "will not request additional discovery." This sounds like the Times is giving up something. It helps the Times by making it look fair. It hides that the Times might not need more discovery. The wording makes the reader think the Times is being reasonable.

The text says OpenAI’s training on "publicly available data constitutes fair use." Fair use is a legal idea, but the text does not explain it. This helps OpenAI by making it sound simple. It hides that fair use is complex and not always clear. The wording makes the reader think OpenAI is right without doubt.

The text says the Times "voluntarily dismissed two other contributory-infringement and trademark-dilution claims." The word "voluntarily" sounds like the Times is being nice. This helps the Times by making it look strong. It hides that the claims might have been weak. The wording makes the reader think the Times is in control.

The text says hallucinated citations "damaging its reputation." The word "damaging" is strong and makes the harm sound big. This helps the Times by making the reader feel sorry for it. It hides that reputation harm is hard to measure. The wording makes the problem seem worse than it might be.

The text conveys a range of emotions, primarily centered on **anger, frustration, and urgency**, with subtle undertones of **defensiveness and skepticism**. The strongest emotion is **anger**, which appears in the Times’s allegations that Microsoft and OpenAI acted deliberately to exploit its content. Phrases like “designed a custom supercomputing system... specifically to enable OpenAI to train large language models on the Times’s articles without permission” and “built to prioritize its own content” frame the defendants as calculated and unfair, evoking a sense of injustice. This anger is amplified by the claim that the system allowed AI models to “bypass paywalls” and generate “fabricated articles that falsely cite the newspaper,” which portrays the harm as intentional and damaging. The purpose of this anger is to rally the reader’s sympathy for the Times, positioning it as a victim of corporate overreach while casting Microsoft and OpenAI as villains who prioritize profit over ethical boundaries.

A secondary emotion of **frustration** emerges in the Times’s description of the harm caused by AI-generated content. Words like “substituting subscription content” and “damaging its reputation through hallucinated citations” suggest a sense of powerlessness, as if the newspaper’s work is being undermined without recourse. This frustration is less intense than the anger but serves to deepen the reader’s concern about the broader consequences of AI training on copyrighted material. It also reinforces the idea that the Times is fighting an uphill battle against powerful tech companies, which may make the reader more inclined to side with the underdog.

The text also carries a **defensive tone** from Microsoft and OpenAI, though it is less pronounced. Microsoft’s characterization of the amendment as a “last-ditch effort” implies that the Times is desperate or overreaching, while OpenAI’s insistence that training on “publicly available data constitutes fair use” suggests a dismissive attitude toward the lawsuit’s merits. These responses are designed to undermine the Times’s claims, creating doubt in the reader’s mind about whether the lawsuit is justified or merely an attempt to stifle innovation. The defensiveness here is strategic, aiming to shift blame away from the tech companies and onto the newspaper for allegedly misrepresenting the situation.

A subtle but important emotion is **urgency**, which appears in the Times’s demand for “permanent injunctive relief and extensive damages.” The request for immediate action, combined with the dramatic claim that Microsoft’s market capitalization “increased by a trillion dollars in just one year,” creates a sense of crisis. The purpose is to make the reader feel that the issue is pressing and that swift legal intervention is necessary to prevent further harm. The urgency is heightened by the mention of the Supreme Court’s decision altering the legal standard, which implies that the case could set a precedent with far-reaching consequences.

These emotions work together to shape the reader’s reaction in several ways. The anger and frustration are meant to generate sympathy for the Times, making the reader more likely to view the lawsuit as justified and necessary. The urgency encourages the reader to see the case as a critical moment in the fight over AI and copyright, while the defensiveness from Microsoft and OpenAI attempts to sow doubt about the Times’s motives. The overall effect is to polarize the reader’s opinion, pushing them to either side with the newspaper or question its claims.

The writer uses specific tools to amplify these emotions and persuade the reader. One key technique is **loaded language**—words chosen to sound extreme rather than neutral. Describing the supercomputing system as “one of the world’s most powerful” and Microsoft’s market growth as a “trillion dollars” makes the stakes feel enormous, while phrases like “fabricated articles” and “hallucinated citations” paint the AI’s behavior as deceptive and harmful. Another tool is **repetition**, particularly of the idea that the Times’s content was used “without permission.” This phrase appears multiple times, reinforcing how the defendants allegedly violated the newspaper’s rights. Additionally, the text **contrasts** two opposing narratives: the Times’s portrayal of itself as a wronged party fighting for justice, and Microsoft and OpenAI framing the lawsuit as an overreach. This contrast sharpens the emotional divide, making the conflict feel more personal and high-stakes.

By combining these techniques, the writer steers the reader’s attention toward certain interpretations of the events. The emotional language makes the legal dispute feel like a moral battle, where the Times is defending not just its business but the integrity of journalism itself. The repetition and contrast ensure that the reader focuses on the perceived wrongdoing of the tech companies rather than the complexities of copyright law or fair use. Ultimately, the text is designed to provoke a strong reaction—whether outrage, concern, or skepticism—while guiding the reader to see the case through the lens of the Times’s argument.