His trial is set for the beginning of the year. And it's very high stakes, but Tom is used to that. Check out this fascinating NY Times article into Tom's life and what happened. From Jeffrey Toobin's introduction:
The high point of Thomas Goldstein’s career as a Supreme Court advocate took place a few minutes after 10 on the morning of Oct. 7, 2020. Goldstein had just begun his argument before the justices on behalf of Google in an immensely complicated, but highly significant, copyright dispute with Oracle. The controversy arose when Google, in developing its Android operating system for smartphones, used about 11,500 lines of computer code from Oracle’s Java SE, a platform that allows developers to write programs that can run on various devices. In a lower court, Oracle won a judgment that Google’s use of the code violated Oracle’s copyright. Google was facing $9 billion in damages.
Before Goldstein appeared in front of the court, he had focused on one main point in his written brief: Oracle’s platform was simply not copyrightable, so Google could not have committed infringement. But after hearing the first few questions from the justices, Goldstein made a sharp pivot — and took a big gamble. Even if Oracle possessed a valid copyright in Java SE, he argued, Google had made “fair use” of the platform, which was a distinctly subsidiary point in his brief. “Fair use” of copyrighted material is not infringement.
Goldstein’s shift was so dramatic that even the justices took note of it. “Mr. Goldstein,” Justice Neil M. Gorsuch said, “if I understand the conversation so far, you are moving past, rather rapidly, the primary argument in your brief that the code just simply isn’t copyrightable. And I think that’s probably a wise move.”
It was. The following April, the Supreme Court gave Google a smashing victory, entirely along the lines that Goldstein had raised on the fly at the oral argument. In a 6-to-2 majority opinion, Justice Stephen G. Breyer said that Google’s copying of the lines of software amounted to fair use, and thus the court overturned Oracle’s victory. Google wouldn’t have to pay a cent.
For Goldstein, the decision was the latest chapter in an extraordinary story of professional ascent. The Supreme Court bar is a priesthood within a priesthood, an especially rarefied corner of the legal profession where almost all the leading performers share the same credentials: graduation from an elite law school, clerkship for a Supreme Court justice and service in the Office of the Solicitor General, which represents the federal government before the court. Goldstein did none of these things, but he still rose to the very top. At age 50, he had already argued more than 40 cases before the justices and co-founded SCOTUSblog.com, an authoritative guide to the work of the court. Thanks to a high-profile victory for a blue-chip client like Google, he could look forward to years of similarly important, and lucrative, assignments.
It hasn’t worked out that way. Just a couple of years after his victory in Google v. Oracle, Goldstein stunned the world of Supreme Court advocates and insiders by announcing that he would no longer represent clients before the justices. In public, he attributed the decision to the rightward drift of the court, but that explanation contained only a sliver of the truth. In fact, over the previous decade-plus, Goldstein had been leading a secret life of ultra-high-stakes gambling and “sugar daddy” relationships with multiple young women — a life so sheltered from those around him that no one knew the full extent of it, least of all his wife.
When it came to light, his life unraveled. His friends have largely abandoned him. His marriage of three decades is ending. He is nearly bankrupt. Most pressing of all, Goldstein is staring down a 22-count federal indictment on tax-fraud charges and a trial that is scheduled to begin in January. If convicted on the most serious charges, he will almost certainly face prison time.
Contemplating his future from his home office in Washington, Goldstein is frequently reminded of his current predicament. His bail conditions limit him to just two electronic devices — a phone and a desktop computer, where a message pops up every five minutes to inform him that the federal authorities are monitoring his activity. Goldstein sought to sell the house, valued at about $3 million, to pay his lawyers and expert witnesses, but prosecutors barred the sale; they plan to seize it, as the fruit of his crimes, if he is convicted.
Before Goldstein appeared in front of the court, he had focused on one main point in his written brief: Oracle’s platform was simply not copyrightable, so Google could not have committed infringement. But after hearing the first few questions from the justices, Goldstein made a sharp pivot — and took a big gamble. Even if Oracle possessed a valid copyright in Java SE, he argued, Google had made “fair use” of the platform, which was a distinctly subsidiary point in his brief. “Fair use” of copyrighted material is not infringement.
Goldstein’s shift was so dramatic that even the justices took note of it. “Mr. Goldstein,” Justice Neil M. Gorsuch said, “if I understand the conversation so far, you are moving past, rather rapidly, the primary argument in your brief that the code just simply isn’t copyrightable. And I think that’s probably a wise move.”
It was. The following April, the Supreme Court gave Google a smashing victory, entirely along the lines that Goldstein had raised on the fly at the oral argument. In a 6-to-2 majority opinion, Justice Stephen G. Breyer said that Google’s copying of the lines of software amounted to fair use, and thus the court overturned Oracle’s victory. Google wouldn’t have to pay a cent.
For Goldstein, the decision was the latest chapter in an extraordinary story of professional ascent. The Supreme Court bar is a priesthood within a priesthood, an especially rarefied corner of the legal profession where almost all the leading performers share the same credentials: graduation from an elite law school, clerkship for a Supreme Court justice and service in the Office of the Solicitor General, which represents the federal government before the court. Goldstein did none of these things, but he still rose to the very top. At age 50, he had already argued more than 40 cases before the justices and co-founded SCOTUSblog.com, an authoritative guide to the work of the court. Thanks to a high-profile victory for a blue-chip client like Google, he could look forward to years of similarly important, and lucrative, assignments.
It hasn’t worked out that way. Just a couple of years after his victory in Google v. Oracle, Goldstein stunned the world of Supreme Court advocates and insiders by announcing that he would no longer represent clients before the justices. In public, he attributed the decision to the rightward drift of the court, but that explanation contained only a sliver of the truth. In fact, over the previous decade-plus, Goldstein had been leading a secret life of ultra-high-stakes gambling and “sugar daddy” relationships with multiple young women — a life so sheltered from those around him that no one knew the full extent of it, least of all his wife.
When it came to light, his life unraveled. His friends have largely abandoned him. His marriage of three decades is ending. He is nearly bankrupt. Most pressing of all, Goldstein is staring down a 22-count federal indictment on tax-fraud charges and a trial that is scheduled to begin in January. If convicted on the most serious charges, he will almost certainly face prison time.
Contemplating his future from his home office in Washington, Goldstein is frequently reminded of his current predicament. His bail conditions limit him to just two electronic devices — a phone and a desktop computer, where a message pops up every five minutes to inform him that the federal authorities are monitoring his activity. Goldstein sought to sell the house, valued at about $3 million, to pay his lawyers and expert witnesses, but prosecutors barred the sale; they plan to seize it, as the fruit of his crimes, if he is convicted.
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