The digital symphony is hitting a discordant note in the halls of the Delhi High Court. As generative AI transitions from a novelty to a ubiquitous creative tool, the legal landscape is scrambling to define the boundaries of authorship. A recent infringement suit, highlighted by recent reports, has brought to the fore a question that will define the future of the entertainment industry: Can copyright be claimed over a song generated by Artificial Intelligence?

This case is not merely a local dispute; it is a microcosm of a global debate. To understand the stakes, we must dissect the Indian statutory framework, specifically Section 2(k), and look at how global powers like the USA and Hong Kong are drawing their own lines in the digital sand.

Under the Indian Copyright Act, 1957, the concept of an author is central to the existence of copyright. Section 2(d) defines an author, and historically, this has been interpreted as a natural person. However, the Act was amended in 1994 to include a provision that seemed remarkably ahead of its time.

Section 2(d)(vi) states that in the case of a literary, dramatic, musical, or artistic work which is computer-generated, the author is “the person who causes the work to be created.” At first glance, this appears to be a smoking gun for AI copyright. If a user prompts an AI to compose a melody, are they not the person causing the work to be created?

However, the analytical weight falls on the term causes. Legal scholars argue there is a distinction between a tool (like a piano or a word processor) and an autonomous system. If the AI makes the creative choices, like the specific arrangement of notes and the lyrical cadence, without substantial human intervention, so, the causation itself becomes tenuous. The Delhi High Court is now tasked with determining if Section 2(k) (which defines work) can even apply to something that lacks a human spark of creativity (cue, Eastern Book Company v. D.B. Modak, 2008). Without a human author, a work might fall into the public domain immediately upon creation, a prospect that terrifies music labels and tech giants alike.

Across the Atlantic, the United States has taken a much firmer, almost physiological, stance. The U.S. Copyright Office (USCO) and federal courts have consistently maintained that copyright requires human authorship.

The landmark case of Thaler v. Perlmutter (2023/2024) serves as the definitive precedent. Stephen Thaler attempted to register an AI-generated image, ‘A Recent Entrance to Paradise,’ listing the AI itself as the author. The court unequivocally rejected this, stating that the Copyright Act is designed to protect the fruits of intellectual labor that are founded in the creative powers of the mind, specifically, the human mind.

The U.S. jurisprudence relies on the modicum of creativity standard established in Feist Publications; this is  infact the highest standard required for originality in the world. For American courts, if the creative elements are generated by an algorithm’s probabilistic predictions rather than human intent, the work is ineligible for protection. This creates a Prompter’s Paradox: a prompt that is too simple (e.g., “write a pop song about heartbreak”) results in no copyright for the user, while a highly detailed, iterative process might eventually qualify as a “human-assisted” work.

In contrast to the strict human-centricity of the U.S., Hong Kong offers a more pragmatic, UK-style approach that mirrors India’s Section 2(d)(vi). Under Section 11(3) of the Hong Kong Copyright Ordinance, for computer-generated works, the author is deemed to be the person by whom the arrangements necessary for the creation of the work are undertaken.

This arrangements test is significantly broader than the U.S. human authorship requirement. It shifts the focus from who did the creating to who made the creation possible. In Hong Kong, a company that invests in an AI system or a programmer who sets the parameters could potentially claim authorship. This provides a safer haven for AI developers and commercial enterprises, ensuring that their technological investments are protected by a 50-year copyright term (as opposed to the standard “Life + 50” for human authors).

The Delhi High Court stands at a crossroads. Should it follow the U.S. path, safeguarding the sanctity of human spirit but potentially leaving billions of dollars of AI-generated content unprotected? Or should it lean into the Hong Kong/UK model, using Section 2(d)(vi) to bridge the gap between human intent and machine execution?

The outcome of this infringement suit will likely hinge on the Human-in-the-loop theory. If the plaintiff can prove that the AI-generated song was the result of extensive human arrangement like editing, specific prompting, and lyrical refinement, the court may find a way to grant protection.

We are entering an era where the author is no longer just a person with a pen or a guitar, but potentially a curator of algorithms. As the Delhi High Court examines this suit, it is not just deciding the fate of one song; it is writing the first verse of India’s AI constitution. For artists, the message is clear: the law still values your “spark,” but for the industry, the race to define arrangement and causation has only just begun. The melody may be AI-generated, but the legal consequences are profoundly human.