Copytrack has begun targeting former Fotolia customers with copyright-infringement demands – despite knowing that Adobe’s shutdown erased buyers’ proof of purchase. As both a photographer and long-time Fotolia user, I expose how this system pressures honest creatives into paying twice for images they already licensed and share how to respond if you receive one of these letters.
I Got the Email
It started like a phishing attempt:
“Unauthorized image use – Case No: EACE62”
Except this one had a legal tone, an image link, and a price tag: €389.59 to “resolve” my supposed copyright infringement. The sender? Copytrack, a company claiming to protect photographers’ rights. The alleged victim? Concept-Production. The image in question? A perfectly ordinary stock photo I had purchased from Fotolia around 2015.
Yes – Fotolia. That ancient stock marketplace Adobe bought, gutted, and replaced with Adobe Stock, erasing nearly all buyers’ purchase records in the process.
And Copytrack knows that.
The Ghost of Fotolia
Fotolia was my daily companion back in the 2010s. I was running design blogs, making digital overlays, and, as a professional photographer myself, selling and buying assets.
I bought dozens – maybe even hundreds – of licensed photos from Fotolia back in the day. Each one had an official name assigned by Fotolia themselves: Fotolia_94383389_S.jpg, Fotolia_103333701_S.jpg, and so on. They were paid, licensed, and clearly marked as part of Fotolia’s legitimate image database.
Now, years later, the very system that named them and sold them to us – Adobe’s successor platform – claims there’s no record of those licenses. And Copytrack uses that absence of proof as ammunition.
But how can creators defend themselves when the evidence of honesty was deleted by the very corporations that profited from it?
Then Adobe stepped in. They migrated contributor accounts (for photographers) but did not migrate buyers’ purchase histories. Overnight, a decade of licenses simply vanished. Adobe Stock told buyers, essentially, “Sorry, no record.”
Fast-forward to 2025, and companies like Copytrack are crawling the web, scanning for those same old images, and sending “settlement” emails.
That’s not copyright protection. That’s digital grave-robbing.
How Copytrack Works (and Why It’s Cleverly Predatory)
Copytrack markets itself as a hero for photographers. Their crawler scans billions of images across websites, matches them to known portfolios, and flags potential “unauthorized uses.” In theory, that’s fine. But in practice, here’s the trick:
- They know that some images came from defunct marketplaces like Fotolia.
- They know buyers no longer have access to invoices.
- They know it’s easier for most small creators to just pay the “settlement” than to dig through a decade of backups or hire a lawyer.
And so, creatives – especially designers, bloggers, and small business owners – pay again for images they already licensed years ago.
It’s legal extortion disguised as rights management.
I’m a Photographer. I Get It.
Here’s the irony: I’m on both sides.
I’m a photographer who understands copyright and values fair pay.
I’m also a former Fotolia buyer whose files still live on my hard drive, neatly labeled, metadata intact, fully paid for.
No real photographer wants to punish another honest creative for something like this. If my image appeared on someone’s site with a ten-year-old Fotolia filename, I’d know instantly that it came from a legitimate license. The naming convention alone tells the story.
So when Copytrack pretends to act “on behalf of creators,” what they’re really doing is undermining the trust between creators themselves – replacing communication with bureaucracy, empathy with automated invoices.
The Ethical Black Hole
Let’s be blunt: Copytrack’s business model thrives on proof asymmetry. They don’t need to prove you stole an image. You need to prove you didn’t.
And in the case of Fotolia, you can’t. Adobe’s migration erased your proof.
Imagine if your car dealership lost its records and the new owner demanded you re-buy your own car “to regularize your ownership.” Absurd? Same logic.
What’s worse, their emails read like legal threats: deadlines, partner lawyers, “territory of the Federal Republic of Germany,” and so on – all designed to intimidate, not inform. For many small website owners, that’s enough to click “Pay Now.”
This is where digital ethics collapses into opportunism.
And we – the photographers, designers, illustrators, and honest license holders – are the collateral damage.
How to Respond If You Get a Copytrack Claim
If you’re reading this because you just got the same email, here’s what to do (from someone who’s been through it):
- Don’t panic.
These are mass-generated letters. They don’t mean a lawyer is already on your case. - Save the email.
Copy the Case ID, date, and image link. Archive everything. - Check your old drives.
If you see filenames starting withFotolia_orDreamstime_, that’s strong circumstantial proof that the image came from a legitimate stock site. - Screenshot everything.
File name, metadata, date, tags – all of it. - Reply calmly, if you want to end it quickly.
Tell them the image was legally purchased from Fotolia, and Adobe’s system no longer retains buyer records. Attach your screenshots. - Or ignore them.
In many cases, if they don’t get a reply within a few weeks, they drop it. But if they escalate to a real lawyer letter, respond then. - Optional: remove the image temporarily.
It doesn’t admit guilt; it just removes the target from your site while the issue fades.
Why This Matters Beyond One Case
This isn’t just about €389 or one angry email.
It’s about the integrity of digital licensing and the survival of trust in the creative economy.
When marketplaces disappear without preserving purchase data, they leave millions of honest buyers exposed to retroactive claims. When enforcement agencies exploit that gap, they erode respect for copyright itself.
I want photographers to earn money – real, fair, transparent money – not through algorithmic harassment of other creators.
If Copytrack truly cared about protecting photographers, they’d cross-reference historical sales from marketplaces like Fotolia before sending accusations. They’d partner with Adobe to verify legacy data. They’d differentiate between likely licensed and clearly stolen uses.
Instead, they mass-mail automated invoices and hope fear does the work.
What Needs to Change
- Adobe should restore access to old Fotolia purchase histories.
Even static read-only archives would prevent this problem. - Copytrack should implement a “legacy license check.”
Before threatening, their system could flag matches from well-known stock sources and request metadata evidence rather than instant payment. - Lawmakers should address “proof asymmetry.”
In the EU, the burden of proof in copyright enforcement should be proportional – not weaponized against small users. - Creators should unite.
We need a shared registry for old stock licenses, similar to domain WHOIS, where buyers can verify their historic purchases even after platforms die.
My Message to Copytrack (and to Fellow Creatives)
If you’re reading this from Copytrack: I’m a photographer. I’ve spent decades respecting copyright, promoting fair pay, and teaching others to do the same. I don’t steal photos. I pay for them.
What I won’t do is pay twice because a billion-dollar merger erased my proof.
Stop leeching from the very people who actually value creative work.
And to every designer, blogger, and small publisher out there:
Keep your receipts, name your files clearly, and never let fear rewrite your own history.
You paid once – that’s enough.
What This Says About Copyright Today
The real theft isn’t the image. It’s the time, dignity, and peace of mind these automated systems drain from honest creators.
If you get that dreaded Copytrack email – breathe, archive, and remember: you’re not the thief here.
