Rights Protection Mechanisms That Confused Everyone

When ICANN opened the floodgates to new gTLDs in the 2012 round, it was not just the registries, registrars, and domain investors who took notice. Trademark owners, intellectual property attorneys, and brand protection firms all recognized that the expansion from a few dozen familiar extensions to hundreds of new namespaces would create serious risks of abuse. The fear was straightforward: cybersquatters, counterfeiters, and opportunists would exploit the new frontier by registering names that infringed on brands, forcing companies to defend themselves in dozens or even hundreds of new spaces. To address this, ICANN and its stakeholders developed a suite of Rights Protection Mechanisms, or RPMs, meant to give trademark holders tools to protect themselves in the new environment. On paper, these mechanisms represented a careful balancing act between protecting brand owners and not stifling legitimate registrants. In practice, they became a tangled system of overlapping procedures, inconsistent outcomes, and widespread confusion that left almost no one satisfied.

The most prominent of these RPMs was the Trademark Clearinghouse (TMCH), designed as a central database where brand owners could submit their registered trademarks for validation. Once a mark was recorded in the TMCH, it enabled two key protections: Sunrise periods and Trademark Claims. Sunrise periods gave trademark owners priority access to register domains matching their marks in each new TLD before the general public. Trademark Claims, on the other hand, notified both the registrant and the trademark holder when someone attempted to register a name that matched a recorded mark. In theory, this system was meant to streamline protection by creating a single, global clearinghouse rather than forcing brands to prove their rights separately in every new TLD.

Yet almost immediately, the TMCH proved confusing and frustrating. Many brand owners misunderstood its scope, believing that recording their marks would block others from registering infringing names across all new gTLDs. In reality, it only provided early warnings and priority opportunities—it was never a blocking mechanism. This mismatch between expectation and reality led to widespread disappointment, with companies discovering that they still needed to engage in defensive registrations or pursue enforcement actions. The cost also became a sticking point. Recording marks in the TMCH required fees, and then brands had to pay additional costs to secure Sunrise registrations in each individual TLD. For global companies with large portfolios, this quickly added up to staggering sums, making the system feel like a recurring tax on intellectual property holders rather than an efficient safeguard.

Alongside the TMCH came the Uniform Rapid Suspension system, or URS, a new dispute resolution mechanism intended to complement the long-standing Uniform Domain-Name Dispute-Resolution Policy (UDRP). Where UDRP was a relatively slow and expensive process designed for permanent transfer of domains, URS was supposed to be a faster, cheaper option for clear-cut cases of infringement, resulting in the suspension of the domain rather than its transfer. The idea was that trademark holders could quickly neutralize obvious cases of cybersquatting without investing the time and resources required for a full UDRP case.

But URS was undermined by its own limitations. Because it only suspended domains rather than transferring them, it often left brand owners unsatisfied. A suspended domain would eventually expire and become available again, potentially requiring the brand to relitigate the same issue. Furthermore, the strict evidentiary standard for URS—requiring a “clear and convincing” case of abuse—meant that it was not as quick or straightforward as its creators had promised. Critics argued that it ended up being neither rapid nor truly effective, a halfway measure that confused trademark holders and registrants alike.

Adding further complexity were additional RPMs like the Post-Delegation Dispute Resolution Procedures (PDDRP), which allowed complaints not just against registrants but against the registries themselves if they were seen to be complicit in fostering infringement. While innovative in concept, the PDDRP was so complex and expensive that it was rarely, if ever, used. The very existence of multiple overlapping procedures—UDRP, URS, PDDRP, TMCH, Trademark Claims, and Sunrise—created a bewildering landscape for anyone trying to understand their rights and obligations. For companies without large legal teams or brand protection budgets, the system was nearly impenetrable. For smaller registrants and individuals, the fear of inadvertently triggering one of these mechanisms added to the perception that the new gTLD space was legally treacherous territory.

Even domain registrars and registries, who were tasked with implementing these mechanisms, often struggled with the complexity. Sunrise periods, for example, varied from one TLD to another, with different rules and timelines, leaving many confused about when and how they could register names. The Trademark Claims notices, while well-intentioned, often created more confusion than clarity. Registrants would receive alarming warnings suggesting that their chosen domain might infringe on a trademark, even in cases where the use was legitimate or the term was generic. Many registrants abandoned purchases simply to avoid the risk, creating frustration in the market.

As years passed, it became clear that the RPMs were not functioning as intended. Brand owners complained about the costs and inefficiencies, registrants complained about chilling effects and overreach, and registries complained about the administrative burdens. ICANN’s promised reviews of the mechanisms turned into long, drawn-out processes, with endless debates in policy development working groups about whether the RPMs should be overhauled, retired, or expanded. In these debates, the same themes recurred: the TMCH was misunderstood, Sunrise was too expensive, URS was underutilized, and the overall system was far too complex for ordinary users.

Ironically, the confusion created by the RPMs sometimes overshadowed the very problem they were meant to address. Instead of providing clarity and confidence in the new gTLD landscape, they contributed to skepticism and reluctance. Many businesses concluded that it was easier to ignore most new extensions altogether rather than navigate the thicket of rules and protections. For domain investors, the uncertainty around RPMs made it harder to assess risk in registering names that might or might not be subject to claims. For consumers, the entire system was invisible, but the lack of recognizable adoption in the new gTLD space reflected the chilling effect the confusion had across the industry.

The disappointment surrounding Rights Protection Mechanisms lies not in their intent but in their execution. ICANN and its stakeholders correctly identified that trademark owners would need safeguards in the expanded namespace, and they devoted significant time and effort to creating tools. But by layering multiple mechanisms on top of one another, each with its own limitations and costs, they created a patchwork that was too complex to inspire confidence. Instead of a streamlined, effective system, the industry ended up with a confusing assortment of overlapping options that satisfied no one fully.

Today, as ICANN considers the possibility of a next round of new gTLDs, the question of RPM reform looms large. Lessons from the first round are clear: mechanisms must be simple, predictable, and cost-effective to achieve meaningful adoption and trust. But the legacy of the first-generation RPMs remains a cautionary tale. They were built with good intentions, but the result was a labyrinth that confused everyone—from the brand owners they were meant to protect, to the registrants they were meant to regulate, to the industry participants who had to implement them. In the end, they stand as another reminder that in the domain name industry, complexity often kills adoption, and that even the best-intentioned safeguards can become disappointments when they fail to align with the practical realities of the ecosystem they are designed to serve.

When ICANN opened the floodgates to new gTLDs in the 2012 round, it was not just the registries, registrars, and domain investors who took notice. Trademark owners, intellectual property attorneys, and brand protection firms all recognized that the expansion from a few dozen familiar extensions to hundreds of new namespaces would create serious risks of…