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By Vicky Sidler | Published 21 January 2026 at 12:00 GMT+2
There’s a moment that happens between opening the email and realizing what it means. A moment where your brain short-circuits trying to figure out how an image from a 2019 blog post just became a €3,000 problem. That moment is brought to you by PicRights, on behalf of global media institutions who apparently found time between wars and elections to police your sidebar graphics.
Their emails arrive looking less like a scam and more like a formal warning from someone who once worked at the Pentagon. The logos are familiar. The language is sharp. And the number at the bottom? The kind that makes you double-check your bank account and wonder if you’ve ever accidentally committed international crimes via JPEG.
Let’s pause right there.
Because while these demands feel official, heavy, and terrifying, what you’re experiencing is not guilt. It’s pressure. And pressure is not the same as proof.
PicRights is authorised to act on behalf of AFP, Reuters, and Associated Press
Authorisation to act is not the same as legal authority to judge or fine
Their goal is fast settlement, not proportional resolution
Courts regularly reduce PicRights demands by 50 to 70 percent
You have the right to proof, context, and time before responding
Making a mistake does not remove your right to due process
Lawyers are bound by procedure too, even when their emails sound final
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Targeted by PicRights? AFP’s Copyright Demands Explained
Why These Emails Hit Harder Than Pixsy or Copytrack:
Step-by-Step—What To Do When the Email Hits:
Step 1. Stay Calm and Archive Everything:
Step 2. Remove the Image With a Paper Trail:
Step 3. Ask for Proof Before You Say Anything Else:
Don’t Admit to Anything Too Early:
PicRights Wins Sometimes—But Usually Not What They Ask For:
What They’re Not Telling You About Copyright Law:
The Originality Problem PicRights Rarely Mentions:
Who PicRights Actually Sues (And Who They Usually Don’t):
My Experience—and Why It Changed My Thinking:
South African Context (And Why It Matters Everywhere):
What If You Really Did Use the Image Incorrectly?
1. Commercial vs. Editorial Use:
2. Traffic and Revenue Impact:
3. Timing and Good Faith (Yes, That Still Matters):
1. Targeted by Copytrack? What Small Businesses Should Do
2. AI Workslop Is Wasting Time and Ruining Team Trust
3. AI Security Cameras Are Quietly Watching More Than You Think
4. File Sharing Sites Skip Virus Scans—Here's the Risk
5. AI Copyright Lawsuit: What Small Businesses Must Know
Frequently Asked Questions About PicRights Copyright Demands
1. Is PicRights a real company or a scam?
2. What should I do if I get an email from PicRights?
3. Can PicRights sue me in South Africa or the UK?
4. How much money can PicRights legally claim from me?
5. Do I have to respond to a PicRights email?
6. Can I negotiate with PicRights?
7. What happens if I used the image by mistake?
8. What kind of proof should I ask PicRights for?
9. Should I hire a lawyer if I get a PicRights claim?
10. Can PicRights go after me if I already paid for the image on another platform?
Pixsy and Copytrack also hunt for unlicensed images online, but they play a volume game. Their strategy relies on panic, not precision. Their emails are aggressive, but once challenged, they often back down or quietly disappear into the inbox ether.
PicRights is a different creature.
This is enforcement at an institutional level. It's not some guy in Berlin emailing you about a stock photo from 2014. It's a Swiss-based firm representing multibillion-euro media organizations with real legal departments and litigation budgets that exceed your annual revenue.
That doesn't mean they're always right. But it does mean they expect you to act like they are.
The tactic works because of two things: credibility and intimidation. When the Associated Press is in the sender field, most people assume resistance is futile. But as we'll see, credibility does not excuse coercion—and institutional muscle doesn't override the rule of law.
The critical distinction: PicRights has authorization to enforce copyright on behalf of AFP and Reuters. They are not a government body or court. They cannot issue fines or declare you guilty. Only courts have that authority.
Here’s the plan. Not the emotional plan (cry and check exchange rates), but the practical one.
Before you do anything else, create a folder. Save the email, the referenced image, screenshots of how it appeared on your site, and the date it was published. You are building a timeline, not a confession. This is evidence, not an apology tour.
Take the image off your website, but keep a clear note: “Removed pending verification of licensing status.” This phrase is your best friend. It acknowledges the issue without admitting guilt. It shows good faith without surrendering.
You’re not obligated to explain. You’re obligated to verify.
Send a calm, short message requesting:
Proof their client owns the image
The date the image was registered (if it was)
Confirmation that the image wasn't licensed to you via any stock platform
How they calculated the demand amount
Proof PicRights has authority to act on the client's behalf
These are not hostile questions. They are foundational. If they can’t provide these things, the demand rests on intimidation rather than evidence.
This one is important. Courts pay attention to language. “Sorry, I didn’t know” might sound like humility, but it can read as an admission of guilt. Until you’ve verified the facts, avoid phrases that suggest fault.
Use language like “We are reviewing our licensing records.” Not “We didn’t realize we used the image.” One is neutral. The other is ammunition.
Yes, PicRights has litigated. Yes, they have won cases. But even in successful court cases, judges routinely award far less than PicRights originally demanded.
In one set of rulings from France, courts reduced claimed amounts by 70 percent or more. In other words, the €3,000 they demanded turned into €800 by the time it reached a legal ruling.
Which tells you everything about their business model. The threat is real. But the number? Negotiable. And often inflated.
This is where clarity matters.
In the United States, statutory damages are only available if an image was registered with the copyright office before the alleged infringement occurred. If it was registered later, statutory damages are off the table, and the claimant must prove actual loss.
Outside the US, including South Africa and much of Europe, copyright exists automatically without registration. However, damages are still not assumed. The claimant must show actual harm, commercial impact, or unjust enrichment. The absence of registration does not eliminate copyright, but it does weaken inflated damage claims.
Different countries. Same principle. They must prove harm, not just claim it.
Copyright protects original works. Not all news photographs qualify.
When multiple photographers stand in the same press pool photographing the same event from the same angle, originality becomes legally contestable. Courts have recognized this. In a 2024 French case involving PicRights, the court rejected the claim because the photograph lacked sufficient originality. It was a standard image of a public event that any photographer could have captured.
This matters because originality is not automatic. It must be demonstrated. Composition, timing, creative choice, and execution all factor in. A generic press photograph is far easier to challenge than PicRights would like you to believe.
This is your secret weapon against PicRights:
Demand they prove the image is "original" under copyright law, not just "unique"
Ask for the photographer's creative choices: lighting, composition, timing, angle
If it's a standard press photo, you have grounds to challenge copyright validity itself
South African copyright law also requires originality. In cases involving news photography, that requirement can become a meaningful line of defense.
Here’s a detail most demand emails leave out.
PicRights does litigate, but primarily against commercial entities. Court records show cases involving brands, manufacturers, and businesses with revenue. Not hobby blogs. Not small editorial sites with minimal traffic. Not passion projects.
They still send demands broadly, because settlement is their business model. But the risk of actual court action drops significantly when the use was editorial, low‑traffic, and non‑commercial. That does not make the demand harmless, but it does change how you assess risk.
I’ve had my own run-ins with Copytrack. They sent one of their classic demands—legal-sounding, vaguely threatening, and sprinkled with just enough German punctuation to feel official.
The image in question had been used in a blog post on one of my client’s sites. I checked my records and struggled to find the license, so I had to request it from Canva. I replied to Copytrack with a firm but polite email pointing that out before sending them the license when I finally received it a few days later.
They didn’t apologize or acknowledge the mistake. They just stopped replying.
The whole thing dragged on for about a week. A week of me rechecking old blog drafts, digging through design folders, and wondering how many small business owners had paid up simply because they didn’t have time to do the same. That week stuck with me. Not because it was dramatic, but because of how much unpaid labor it required.
What struck me most was the tone, the structure, and the complete lack of obligation to prove anything from their side before demanding money. The assumption of guilt was built into every sentence.
PicRights feels like the older cousin of that email: wealthier, polished, better dressed, and yet still wrong.
Their messaging arrives with more restraint, but the core tactic hasn’t changed. It’s still pressure over proof. Still process-avoidant. Still built on the hope that you’re too busy, too confused, or too afraid to push back. And in their case, they lean harder on legal logos and partner firms because they know it works. If you’re a small business owner who’s never dealt with a legal demand before, the tone alone is enough to make you want to pay just to make it stop.
But here’s the part that keeps sticking: when lawyers—people trained in the rules of procedure—choose to bypass that process in favor of intimidation, it’s not just unpleasant. It’s dishonest.
Creators deserve protection. I’m not arguing that at all. But so do the people being accused. Fairness is not a luxury reserved for those who can afford lawyers. It is a principle. It is supposed to apply even when you mess up. Even when you’re a small business that made an honest mistake. Even when the person on the other side of the email has a better letterhead than you do.
If we expect businesses to honor copyright, then we should expect enforcement agencies—and their attorneys—to honor due process.
Because no one should have to choose between protecting their reputation and challenging something that might not even be legitimate. Especially not when the threat is coming from people who should know better.
This is important. In South Africa, as in many countries outside the US and EU, foreign companies do not get to walk into court and start making demands without consequence.
Our legal system, while far from perfect, still insists on some skin in the game. Specifically, it often requires a foreign claimant to post security for costs before proceeding with legal action. This is not a quirky procedural footnote. It is a deliberate safeguard that discourages speculative or weak claims by making them financially risky to pursue.
That doesn't mean you are immune from enforcement. It means the playing field is not as tilted as PicRights would like you to believe. It means there is friction, and friction buys you time—time to verify, time to respond properly, and time to consult someone who understands your local legal context better than a Swiss enforcement firm that sends demand emails for a living.
A few years ago, a community newspaper here—Pondoland Times—found itself in PicRights' crosshairs. They had used a handful of AFP images, likely in good faith, in a piece of reporting that had nothing to do with profit or sensationalism. The demand that followed was not small: over R15,000. That is a painful number for a small paper operating in a rural area on limited funds. They removed the images immediately. They responded respectfully. They tried to find a middle ground. PicRights, by all accounts, wouldn't move an inch.
Eventually, the situation made national news. But not because the paper had done anything scandalous. It made news because the legal demand felt grossly out of step with the nature of the infringement—and because the tactics used raised questions about whether these types of copyright enforcement efforts have lost all sense of proportion.
This is why your local legal framework matters. PicRights and others like them operate globally. They scan everything. They send emails everywhere. But they do not control how your country handles disputes. They do not get to bypass your legal procedures just because they operate from a different continent. And in many jurisdictions—including South Africa, the UK, and parts of Australia and Canada—those procedures offer far more protection than small business owners realize.
Local law is the firewall between you and a legal overreach masquerading as justice. It matters even when the demand arrives in flawless English, on polished letterhead, referencing international copyright treaties. Because at the end of the day, it is your courts that decide what counts—not theirs.
Let’s assume the uncomfortable scenario. You check your records and realize there was no license. You messed up.
That doesn't mean you write a blank check. You still have rights.
Your negotiation position depends on three factors:
If the image was in a blog post about current events (editorial), you have stronger fair-use arguments.
If it was on your homepage selling products (commercial), you're more exposed.
PicRights knows this and calculates demands accordingly—but their calculations are inflated.
A blog post with 500 views is not the same as a product page with 50,000 views.
Demand their traffic data for your specific page. They have it from their scans.
If they can't prove significant commercial impact, their damages claim collapses.
Removed within 24 hours (like I suggested)? That's mitigation.
Used for 3 years? That's exposure.
Immediate removal plus a calm email offering a reasonable fee—not an admission of liability, just a licensing offer—shows you’re engaging in the way any sensible business would.
What’s reasonable? Start with what the license would’ve cost. For a basic editorial-use image on a low-traffic blog, that’s often between €50 and €150. Add 20 percent as a penalty buffer, and you’re sitting around €200 to €300. That’s not generous. It’s realistic. It’s fair. And it’s far less than the €1,500 or more they tend to ask for.
If they escalate—especially if the demand crosses €2,000, involves a commercial use case, or starts naming court dates and local attorneys—don’t try to guess. Spend the €300 on a copyright lawyer. A real one. They’ll check if AFP actually registered the image (in many cases, they actually haven’t), whether your usage qualifies as fair dealing or transformative, and whether the local law firm PicRights claims is involved actually plans to litigate or is just name-dropping.
Making a mistake doesn’t waive your right to due process. It doesn’t mean you owe them everything they ask. And it certainly doesn’t mean you have to sit quietly while someone with more money tries to scare you into submission.
In marketing, I talk a lot about clarity. I say it builds trust. But clarity also protects.
In these cases, vague threats feel powerful until they’re exposed to light. Once you slow things down, ask for detail, and verify the facts, you take back control. That’s what due process is for. Not just for the innocent. For everyone.
If you want help building a business that communicates clearly from the start, download my free 5-Minute Marketing Fix. It gives you one strong sentence that explains what your business does and why it matters.
If PicRights has you rattled, you’ll want to see how their cousin Copytrack behaves. Same pressure tactics, different name—plus a personal story about how I pushed back and won.
Both copyright demands and low-quality AI content come from the same problem: rushing. If you’ve ever posted an image or blog without checking it properly, this article will hit close to home.
Bots are watching your website. Copyright bots, ad bots, and yes—even cameras. This post explains what happens when automated surveillance turns into legal enforcement.
The internet loves convenience. But skipping checks—whether for viruses or image licenses—can cost you. Here’s how seemingly harmless uploads can become digital disasters.
If you think only big companies get sued for copyright issues, think again. This article breaks down why Disney is suing an AI company and what it means for your own use of images and content.
PicRights is a real copyright enforcement agency. They represent major news agencies like AFP and Reuters, and they do have partnerships with actual law firms. That said, the demands they send are not legal judgments. They are settlement requests, and you are still allowed to ask questions before paying.
First, stay calm. Save all the documentation, take screenshots of the image on your site, and temporarily remove the image while you review. Do not admit fault. Do not pay immediately. Instead, reply with a short, neutral message requesting proof of ownership, registration, and authorisation. This protects your position while giving you time to verify the claim.
They can try, but it’s complicated. In South Africa, foreign companies often have to post security for costs, which makes lawsuits less appealing. In the UK, small claims courts may limit their ability to recover legal fees. Local laws offer protections most business owners don’t realise they have—especially when dealing with international claimants.
That depends on the jurisdiction, the registration status of the image, and how it was used. Many of their emails cite “up to $150,000” in statutory damages, but that number only applies in the US and only if the image was registered before you used it. Courts often award far less than what PicRights demands—sometimes as little as 10–30% of the original amount.
Technically, no—but ignoring it entirely can escalate things unnecessarily. A short, calm acknowledgment that you’re reviewing the claim is usually enough to pause the pressure. It also sets the tone that you’re taking the issue seriously, but not blindly accepting blame.
Yes, although their emails may suggest otherwise. If you don’t have a license, you can ask for a breakdown of their fee, explain the context of use, and offer a reasonable settlement based on actual image value and traffic. Many businesses do negotiate lower amounts—especially when the image was used non-commercially or had minimal visibility.
Accidental use doesn’t make you immune, but it doesn’t make you a criminal either. You still have rights. You’re entitled to request proof and context, and if necessary, consult a lawyer. Courts often consider intent and proportionality when deciding damages—especially for first-time or low-impact infringements.
Ask for:
Copyright registration details
Confirmation that the image was registered before your use
Proof they are authorised to act for the copyright holder
Calculation of how they arrived at the settlement amount
Confirmation the image was not licensed to you via stock platforms like Canva or Adobe Stock
If they can’t provide this, their case weakens considerably.
If the demand is large, the claim seems aggressive, or you’re unsure how to respond, it may be worth a short consultation. A good lawyer can help you negotiate or push back effectively. But for smaller claims with clear documentation, many small businesses handle the first few steps on their own.
No. If you licensed the image through a legitimate platform like Canva Pro, and that platform had the rights to distribute it, you’ve already done your part. If PicRights sends a demand anyway, show them your license and ask them to take it up with the platform directly. This is their problem to solve—not yours.

Created with clarity (and coffee)