Taylor Swift has filed a trademark application covering her voice and stage image. It includes a photo of her performing in her distinctive bejewelled Eras Tour bodysuit and two voice recordings: “Hey, it’s Taylor” and “Hey, it’s Taylor Swift.”
It’s the latest example of the singer using her status and power to challenge industry norms and assert the rights of artists.
In 2014, Swift removed her entire catalogue from Spotify in protest at the low level of artist remuneration generated by the platform (later relenting in 2017). In 2019, she began rerecording her previous albums in protest at the acquisition of her back catalogue by alleged industry foe Scooter Braun’s Ithaca Holdings, giving her back control over masters of her songs. The new “Taylor’s Versions” outperformed the original versions on streaming services.
Although the actor Matthew McConaughey beat Swift to the punch by successfully trademarking some of his famous spoken lines of movie dialogue earlier this year, she appears to be the first music artist of note to take the step. The move raises some interesting issues in terms of copyright law and the rights of music artists.
‘Passing off’ and deepfaking
In music, both sound recordings and the songs which they embody are protected by copyright law. Much of the income generated by the music industry is based on the commercial exclusivity to exploit these forms of intellectual property (IP), which that law ensures.
All of Swift’s vocals are protected from copying in terms of being sampled without permission. But the question of whether or not a vocal being performed (or manufactured in the case of AI) to sound like Swift is a copyright infringement is less clear.
In 1988, Bette Midler successfully sued Ford Motor Company for using an impersonator to perform her songs in TV adverts. This case suggests that deliberately copying a singer’s voice, style and tone can amount to passing off. In UK law, passing off is a common law tort involving misrepresentation that causes reputational or financial damage. In the US, similar protection is provided under the Lanham Act, which also guards against misleading imitation.
This article is part of our State of the Arts series. These articles tackle the challenges of the arts and heritage industry – and celebrate the wins, too.
Swift has also experienced the darker side of deepfakes, including fake pornographic images and AI-generated photos showing her wearing a “Swifties for Trump” T-shirt ahead of the last US presidential election.
The US Take It Down Act, covering explicit deepfake content was passed into law in 2025. Similar protection is possible in the UK via the Data (Use and Access) Act 2025.
While further legislation is being developed in the US to address AI-generated impersonation more broadly, Swift’s move to trademark both her voice and visual likeness suggests a desire to retain stronger legal control over her identity. This may give her a basis for pursuing civil action under common law or intellectual property rights when objectionable AI-generated content appears. Given her significant wealth and influence, such legal routes may also allow for faster enforcement than relying solely on the criminal justice system.
The trademarks registered both by McConaughey and Swift arguably only offer protection for exactly what has been registered on the basis of the scope of a trademark being “what you see is what you get”.
However, the fact that many platforms require proof of IP registration before taking down potentially infringing content suggests that having these trademarks in place will act as a powerful deterrent against future fakes at the very least.
Training data
A more complex issue for Swift and artists in general is the use of their existing works as data by AIs to create new works. For example, I could prompt an AI to write a song for me in the style of Fearless-era Swift but performed by a voice that is a cross between Norah Jones and Diana Krall. It would be very hard to prove that any particular piece of IP had been infringed, as the AI would be synthesising dozens of songs and performances to achieve its creation.
However, new content would have been created via the mining of existing IP; a songwriter’s moral right of integrity protects against adaptation of their works without permission, and musicians and songwriters have become increasingly concerned that they are not being recompensed sufficiently, or indeed even consulted about AI using their work.
In the UK, the Musicians Union has launched an initiative demanding consent and remuneration for AI training and AI-generated music. The UK government has pulled back from its previous line of allowing an exemption for AI training on copyrighted works in favour of more creator control after strong opposition to this stance from the creative industries.
The UK Performing Rights Society, which collects royalties from around the globe for its songwriter and composer members (and their publishing companies) when their work is performed live, broadcast or streamed, has declared that it will not register AI-generated works. However, it will register works which it classes as AI-assisted. This leads to the question of how much human input needs to be evidenced for a piece of music to be copyright-able.
In UK copyright law, the Copyright, Design and Patents Act allows for recordings “generated by computer” but a song or composition needs to display originality to acquire the law’s protection – a product of skill, judgement and labour which should arguably involve significant human involvement, but how much?
There have been some positive developments for artists’ earnings, with certain AI companies recently reaching settlements with major music rights holders over the use of training data in music generation. However, artists such as Swift may still need stronger protection to prevent the unauthorised use, imitation and commercial exploitation of their distinctive vocal styles.
The current regulatory grey areas around AI’s use of IP have been likened to the wild west. With her trademarking initiative, Swift has donned her Stetson, pinned on her five-point star badge and declared herself the new sheriff in town.
Justin Morey does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organisation that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.