On Monday, December 1, 2025, the U.S. Supreme Court convened to hear a case that could fundamentally reshape the relationship between internet service providers (ISPs), the entertainment industry, and every American with an internet connection. At the heart of this billion-dollar legal battle is the question: should ISPs be held financially liable for failing to disconnect users suspected of online piracy? The answer could determine whether millions of Americans retain their digital lifelines—or find themselves suddenly offline.
The case, brought by Sony Music Entertainment and other major media companies, targets Cox Communications, the third largest broadband provider in the United States. The stakes are enormous: a jury previously awarded the music labels a staggering $1 billion in damages after finding Cox responsible for the distribution of pirated content online. This verdict, which was upheld by a federal appeals court, now hangs in the balance as Cox pleads its case before the nation’s highest court, according to ABC News.
Cox’s defense is both practical and philosophical. The company insists it opposes copyright infringement and takes reasonable steps to prevent it, but argues that it cannot be held accountable for the actions of individual users—many of whom are impossible to identify or monitor. In a legal brief submitted to the justices, Cox’s attorneys wrote, “Your [internet service provider] does not purposefully participate in, or try to bring about, what you do online any more than your phone company or FedEx do in communications they transmit.” The company warns that if the judgment stands, the consequences could be dire: bankruptcy for Cox and “mass evictions from the internet” at homes, barracks, hospitals, and hotels, all on the basis of mere accusations of piracy.
“That notion turns internet providers into internet police,” Cox argued before the court, as reported by CNN. The company’s leadership contends that holding ISPs liable for their customers’ actions would force them to monitor and police every byte of data, threatening the network access of millions and fundamentally altering the open nature of the internet. In their words, “This concept turns providers into Internet police, and that threatens the network access of millions of users.”
But the music industry sees things differently. Sony Music Entertainment and its fellow plaintiffs argue that Cox is far from an innocent bystander. Instead, they say, the provider actively enabled “repeat offenders” to continue pirating content in order to maximize profits. The labels point to internal data showing that, during the same period Cox disconnected 619,711 subscribers for nonpayment, it severed ties with only 32 customers for copyright violations. “While Cox emphasizes the importance of the Internet, it does not mention that it had no trouble disconnecting nearly 620,000 subscribers for nonpayment compared with 32 for copyright violations,” Sony’s attorneys wrote. The music companies further claim that Cox has not shown any evidence that innocent subscribers were unfairly targeted in this case, pushing back against the company’s warnings of widespread collateral damage.
The broader context is staggering. According to the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA), nearly 19 billion downloads of pirated movies and TV shows were made using peer-to-peer software such as BitTorrent in 2023 alone. The MPAA estimates these copyright violations cost the U.S. economy more than $29 billion and “hundreds of thousands of jobs.” The entertainment industry contends that the risk of being sued is the only effective incentive for ISPs to take meaningful action against piracy.
The legal landscape surrounding secondary liability for copyright infringement is murky and evolving. While federal law clearly prohibits direct infringement, the question of whether ISPs can be held secondarily liable—essentially, for “materially contributing” to the infringement of others—remains unsettled. As the MPAA’s legal team noted in their filings, anyone who “materially contributes to the infringing conduct of another may be held liable as a contributory infringer.”
This isn’t the first time the Supreme Court has been asked to weigh in on the responsibilities of technology providers in the face of new, disruptive innovations. More than four decades ago, the Court faced a similar dilemma in the landmark Betamax case. Back then, Universal Studios tried to hold Sony Corp. of America liable for selling videocassette recorders (VCRs), which the studios feared would be used to copy television shows illegally. In a sharply divided decision, the Court ruled that selling VCRs did not constitute contributory infringement—a precedent that has shaped legal arguments ever since. Ironically, Sony, the victor in that case, now finds itself on the other side of the courtroom, fighting for stricter liability standards.
The stakes in the current case go far beyond the music and film industries. Tech giants including Google and X (formerly Twitter) have filed briefs supporting Cox’s position, warning that a ruling in favor of the entertainment labels could have sweeping consequences for the entire technology sector. In their filings, these companies argue that if content creators are allowed to sue AI platforms and other tech firms for copyright infringement committed by users, the resulting legal risk would stifle innovation and force companies to severely restrict their services. X, for example, cautioned that the appeals court ruling against Cox could “wreak havoc” on the tech industry and specifically on the burgeoning field of artificial intelligence.
Recent Supreme Court decisions in other areas add another layer of complexity. In June 2023, the Court unanimously ruled that American gun manufacturers could not be held responsible for cartel violence on the Southwest border, even if their products were involved. Two years prior, the justices similarly found that Twitter/X could not be held liable for aiding and abetting terrorist attacks simply because its platform hosted tweets from ISIS. These precedents, as noted by CNN and other outlets, suggest a judicial reluctance to extend secondary liability too far—though whether that logic will prevail in the context of copyright law remains to be seen.
As the justices heard oral arguments, the nation watched closely. The outcome, expected by the end of June 2026, will have profound implications not just for the parties involved, but for the future of online access, digital innovation, and the ongoing battle over intellectual property in the internet age. Will ISPs be forced to become gatekeepers, scrutinizing every packet for potential infringement? Or will the Court reaffirm the principle that technology providers shouldn’t be held responsible for every misuse of their services?
For now, millions of Americans—and the industries that serve them—wait anxiously for the Supreme Court’s answer.
