Most of the outrage has been over two provisions of the directive: Article 11 and Article 13. (Confusingly, the directive’s final version changed Article 11 into Article 15 and Article 13 into Article 17. Since the months of debate over these measures uses the old numbers, we will here too.)

The first, called the “link tax” by opponents, gives publishers the right to be paid when online platforms and aggregators like Facebook and Google News share even small portions of their stories.

Currently, in cases of copyright violation, right holders have to submit a “takedown notice” in order for the services to pull the concerned content or else face the threat of litigation. The path is meant to go: copyright infringement goes online → copyright holder sends a takedown notice → infringing content is removed or platform faces potential lawsuit.

Article 13 abolishes that middle step in the process, eliminating the need for rights holders to search the web for infractions. Instead, it makes platforms liable for copyrighted material uploaded by users — meaning they can be sued without even a takedown notice. In other words: copyright infringement goes online → platform faces potential lawsuit right away.

Are blogs or RSS feeds that aggregate newspaper headlines, much in the way Google News does, covered by the new rules? What about individually operated Facebook pages with large followings? Does a GIF or a meme built off a news video count?

One example: If YouTube wishes to let a user upload a video of themselves featuring songs by Drake or Beyoncé, it must ensure that that user has received permission from the rights holders of those songs. The implementation of such a measure could prove extremely challenging. YouTube uses a system called Content ID to enforce copyright, but it certainly doesn’t catch everything.

Still, opponents are wary of the provision because they contend that enforcing such a scheme would oblige sites like YouTube and Facebook to review any material users post or share and cross-check it with a database of protected material. Such a mechanism, they argue, would be ripe for abuse by copyright trolls, potentially leading to millions of both deliberate and erroneous blocks.

Each of the 28 countries in the EU now has two years to transpose it into its own national laws. Until we see how those laws shake out, especially in countries with struggles over press and internet freedom, both sides of the debate will likely have plenty of room to continue arguing their sides — that it marks a groundbreaking step toward a more balanced, fair internet, or that it will result in a set of legal ambiguities that threaten the freedom of the web.