You came to us from Ukraine four years ago under dramatic circumstances – right at the start of Russia’s full-scale war of aggression. What was it like for you to have to leave your home country and start over at a new institute in Germany at the same time?
Kateryna Militsyna: Having to leave my home country felt as though the ground had been removed from beneath my feet. In an instant, the life I knew and the future I had imagined ceased to exist, leaving me adrift in uncertainty and unsure where to find solid ground again. Paradoxically, this uncertainty has also brought profound clarity, as extreme circumstances have a way of exposing what is truly important and stripping away everything else. For me, all this has quieted the doubts, expectations, and fears that might otherwise have held me back, giving me the courage to act and step into the unknown.
Starting over in Germany felt like stepping into terra incognita – a new language, new people, and new traditions and habits, lived from within rather than observed from a distance. Although unfamiliar and at times frightening in the beginning, it gradually became ground I could feel beneath my feet again. For that, I will always be grateful to Germany, to the Institute, and to the people I met there.
What motivated you back then to continue your research here of all places – and what did you know about our Institute before you arrived?
K.M: The Institute, the quality of its research, and its library enjoy an outstanding international reputation. When I received confirmation that I would be able to join the Institute, the opportunity seemed almost unrealistically good. Some people even asked whether I was sure the offer was genuine and not some kind of scam.
I also remember reading, in 2021, about the Institute’s project led by Heiko Richter, which eventually culminated in the publication of Competition and Intellectual Property Law in Ukraine in 2023. After arriving in Munich, I had the opportunity to become involved in the project during its final phase and contribute a chapter to the volume.
Now, looking back, I realize that the opportunity to become part of the Institute and to work alongside its researchers has given me a much deeper understanding of what lies behind the Institute’s exceptional research and its enduring commitment to academic freedom.
Can you explain to us what you researched in your dissertation – and what originally led you to this topic?
K.M: In my dissertation, I sought to delineate when the use of GenAI to produce output renders it non-copyrightable and to find the most appropriate legal framework for such output, should it prove necessary.
My interest in this topic first emerged in 2018, during my master’s studies. At that time, the term “GenAI” was not yet in use. Nevertheless, the first AI-based applications for content editing were already beginning to appear, although they were far from the sophisticated tools available today. The topic became even more compelling in 2021, when several legislative initiatives for copyright reform in Ukraine proposed introducing a new sui generis right for non-original computer-generated objects, which would encompass AI outputs falling outside the scope of copyright protection.
Interestingly, when I started researching this topic, doubts were raised as to whether it represented a genuinely promising area of research. Today, it is clear that AI has raised numerous legal questions that extend far beyond copyright, demonstrating that these issues were not merely a temporary concern but an important field of legal inquiry that would remain relevant for years to come.
A lot happens academically over the course of a four-year dissertation: Was there a moment when you realized that your project was really working – a real breakthrough or an insight that changed everything?
K.M: Perhaps this moment is unfolding now.
At one of the conferences, my approach to delineating copyrightable and non-copyrightable AI outputs was met with strong criticism because it assigned a prominent role to the creation process, rather than focusing exclusively on the output itself.
Today, the creation process has moved to the center of the discussion. As AI outputs have become increasingly indistinguishable from human-created works, it is the creation process that provides an important basis for assessing copyrightability and drawing the line between protected and unprotected outputs. Likewise, emerging national approaches, including case law, although differing in certain respects, have increasingly converged on the view that the creation process is a relevant factor in determining whether a particular AI output qualifies for copyright protection.
This experience also taught me how to handle criticism. An inspiring person once told me that criticism is always valuable: if it is well founded, it reveals weaknesses in your argument and provides an opportunity to reconsider the issue; if it is not, it encourages you to refine your reasoning and develop stronger arguments in support of your position. That advice has stayed with me ever since.
You defended your dissertation via an online interview. What was that like for you – such an important moment in life, and you’re sitting in front of a screen?
K.M: Of course, this was not how I had imagined that day. Yet it is important to remain flexible and creative under any circumstances. And even though I defended my thesis online, I did so from the Institute, immersed in its academic atmosphere and supported by family, friends, and colleagues – those who were there with me in person and those who shared this important moment from a distance.
What was your daily life like here in Germany and at the Institute – what was surprisingly different from what you expected, and what helped you settle in?
K.M: I will start with the end of the question. Looking back, I realize that what helped me settle in was not “what”, but “who”. It was the people who, knowingly or unknowingly, supported me in this process.
They introduced me to German traditions and everyday habits, reminded me to do my grocery shopping before public holidays when everything would be closed, helped me find a doctor, organized dinners where everyone brought a traditional dish from their own culture, planned day trips to explore the surrounding area, and even gifted me a carpet to make my new place feel cozier. The list could go on. To some, these may seem like small or even trivial gestures. To me, however, they were meaningful expressions of support and care. Together, they helped me establish a routine and feel more comfortable in my new environment.
There were also a few differences that came as a surprise. Let me share one of them: the different way of understanding and approaching the seasons. In Ukraine, each season begins on the first day of its respective month, and we usually welcome its arrival. So, do not be surprised if a Ukrainian wishes you a “Happy first day of winter” on 1 December. This is because Ukraine follows meteorological seasons, whereas Germany and many other Western European countries – as I only discovered after moving to Munich – follow astronomical seasons. This difference can sometimes lead to amusing misunderstandings. For example, when planning a spring hike, suggesting 7 June as the date would immediately make a Ukrainian who is unfamiliar with this difference think that there must have been a mistake, because, in our understanding, spring has already come to an end by then.
During this time, you’ve experienced a lot, not only academically but certainly also personally. What has changed you the most over the past four years?
K.M: A significant change began at the start of this “journey”: when I packed my entire life into one suitcase and moved forward without fully realizing how this decision would impact my life. I also changed through the new commitments I chose to embrace. Many of them came with fear and uncertainty, but the trust and belief that others placed in me became a source of strength, helping me face challenges and grow in ways I had not expected.
Ukraine has never disappeared from the news since your arrival. How did you experience that – and to what extent has the war influenced your work or your thinking?
K.M: It is a challenging experience to go through, one in which even an innocent question such as “How are you?” can leave you speechless. Yet I once heard a thought that influenced the way I face this experience: instead of asking, “Why is this happening to me?”, it is better to ask, “What is this experience for?”
This is what I try to focus on and remind myself of. First, nothing should be taken for granted, above all the opportunity to wake up to another day in which you and your loved ones are safe, healthy and happy. Second, life remains beautiful, even in dark times. It goes on, and no one will ever give us back the years we spend waiting for better times. Therefore, we should make the most of it and stop postponing the things that matter – from starting a new hobby we have always dreamed of to telling the people close to us how important they are and how much we care about them. It is not that I was unaware of this before, but I can say it now with a much deeper understanding.
Do you feel a special responsibility as a Ukrainian researcher – toward your country, your community, or the academic community there?
K.M: Sure, I believe it is important not to lose momentum and to continue building bridges between Ukraine and other countries, including in the academic sphere. It is through the exchange of differing perspectives and experiences that creative ideas, inspiring projects, and meaningful outcomes emerge.
In my view, it is equally important that these bridges extend to schools, as it is already at this level that the first steps towards research and inventive activity can be taken in Ukraine. The curiosity, interest, and enthusiasm that emerge at this stage should not be lost; they should be nurtured and encouraged.
You’ve earned your doctorate – what’s next? Where do you see yourself in a few years, and what role does Ukraine play in that?
K.M: Well, as we know, if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans. I have already experienced the truth behind this in my own life. This does not mean that I do not have dreams or aspirations. Rather, I try not to let my own vision limit me, so that I remain open and flexible enough to embrace the chances that life may offer.
For now, my next chapter continues at the Institute, where I am honoured and happy to take on the role of Senior Research Fellow. And I look ahead with hope for a safe future and for the opportunities that lie ahead.
Thank you so much, Kateryna, for these detailed insights!
Interview: Hella Schuster
