I'm pleased that...
Posted on Saturday September 30, 2006 at 10:19am.
... they used the apostrophe correctly. Does that make me a bad person?
All Rights Reserved
Posted on Thursday September 28, 2006 at 10:29am.
By now, many of you will have seen the music video for "Don't Download this Song," but in case you haven't, I have posted it below (hat tip, Atlas Blogged). I'm of at least two minds on intellectual property issues and the controversy over downloading music and other works of art without paying for them.
As a writer, I'm inclined to view my work as property--a particular sort of property, of course, but property nonetheless. My new novel isn't a house or a car. My restricting your use of my house in no way violates your rights. My restricting your use of my novel in no way violates your rights. Or maybe it does, eventually.
If I want to pass my house on to my children, and they want to do the same, and so on, the house could be in the hands of my family for generations, and no one else would gain any rights to my house. Most people would see this as just and wouldn't claim that their freedoms are being violated because they are not allowed to come into the house as they please.
If I want to pass my novel on to my children, and they want to do the same, and so on, the novel would be in the hands of my family for generations, and no one else would gain any rights to my novel. Which means that 400 years from now, if someone wanted to stage a play or write a novel playing off of one of my characters, they could be prohibited from doing so. More realistically, since my work being popular 400 years from now might be a bit of a stretch, let's look at Shakespeare.
If we really treated intellectual property like a house, then the many works derived from Shakespeare's plays would not exist, or would only exist with the permission of the current copyright holder. Nothing would pass into public domain. Not only might this limit the total art available to the public, but it would limit free speech. John Updike's novel Gertrude and Claudius, for example, which took its characters from Hamlet, could be illegal. Of course, Shakespeare didn't invent all of the characters or storylines in his works--some are drawn from history or other works--and people will point out that all art comes from other art or from life to some degree. I want to live in a society where speech and art have as few limitations as possible, so treating intellectual property as physical property to be owned forever is not desirable. (We're dealing with art here, but the ramifications of intellectual property in science and technology being owned forever are serious, which is why patents are not forever.)
But I don't want people stealing my novel Mean Martin Manning. I worked really hard on it, devoted lots of time and energy to it, and I reject the idea that it isn't in some sense mine, that it isn't property, like (and unlike) a house. I know that a house is not the same as a book. They are clearly different kinds of property, so perhaps require different treatment. But they are still property.
A house comes into possession of an owner because it was created by the owner, who took some items (wood, nails, etc.) and combined them with some skill and effort, and turned them into something of value. Or it was then purchased by someone from this owner, and then the new person became the owner. This is obviously simplified, one of the problems of trying to reduce these issues to analogy. In reality, many people helped create the house--thousands, probably, if we go down to the level of nail factory--but assuming they were not coerced, then they all fill the same role of owner who sells something he has for an agreed-upon price--a house, a service, a product, a skill--and gives up any claim to the completed house in the process, or retains some claim, agreed to by all parties; anyone not agreeing is free to not participate. We are leaving aside still more complications, like who owns the land, and so on, but we’re trying to keep it simple so our heads don’t explode.
A book, likewise, comes into possession of an owner because it was created by the author, who took some items--words, ideas, paper, pen, computer, etc.--and combined them with some skill and effort, and turned them into something of value. Or it was then purchased by someone, perhaps a publishing company, from this owner, and either this someone became the new owner, or agreed to take only certain rights and leave others with the original owner (some authors give up all rights for larger payments, but it’s rare). In reality, many people helped create the book--thousands, probably, if we go down to the level of the person who chopped down the tree that made the paper--but assuming they were not coerced, then they all fill the same role of the homeowner who sells something he has for an agreed-upon price and gives up any claim to the completed house in the process.
When a writer or publisher sells a book and a reader buys it, both seller and buyer are aware of the limitations of ownership being transferred in the transaction. If they don’t agree, they can refuse to participate and try to find someone else willing to sell or buy on terms more to their liking. Some writers might choose to make their work public domain immediately. That is their right. Readers could choose to only read works in the public domain, or buy books by authors offering more extensive ownership rights to readers and the public. That is their right.
The main point is that books and homes are both property. Government might recognize them as such for utilitarian reasons and not ethical ones, but we all know it’s stealing to take someone’s house (where would you put it?), and we all know--even if some people like to get music for free--that it’s stealing to pass off someone else’s manuscript as your own. We have no rights to someone else's work, or the results of someone else's work--whatever that work might be.
The analogy begins to break down a bit, as analogies often do. We all gain from scientific discoveries and inventions, and claiming ownership over facts of nature is baseless. No person invented the laws of physics. And novelists didn't invent the conventions of the novel, and certainly don't seek permission to use them. Our culture can't be owned by any person or corporation. Hamlet is part of the culture, as is Harry Potter. I do not object to someone using Shakespeare's creations without permission or without paying for them. I do object to someone using J.K. Rowling's creations without permission or without paying for them. Maybe because J.K. Rowling is still alive.
The issue remains complicated. Mickey Mouse has been around for a long time and is part of American culture, and at some point one would think that no corporation should be able to monopolize it. But Disney (dead) was a person, and he created Mickey Mouse, and his company has invested huge amounts of money and its shareholders (alive) have a huge stake in it, and why another amusement park or animation studio should be allowed to use Mickey Mouse, even 50 years from now, escapes me. Fair use already allows--or should allow--parody and commentary that incorporates Mickey Mouse. Is free speech being crushed by allowing Disney to continue owning Mickey Mouse? They don't own the concept of mouse characters, as Chuck E. Cheese proves. What about 400 years from now? Can the company still own Mickey Mouse? And if so, why can't Shakespeare's descendants sue John Updike?
As I said, complicated. We aren't going to resolve it all here, though your thoughts are welcome. And check out the music video.
As a writer, I'm inclined to view my work as property--a particular sort of property, of course, but property nonetheless. My new novel isn't a house or a car. My restricting your use of my house in no way violates your rights. My restricting your use of my novel in no way violates your rights. Or maybe it does, eventually.
If I want to pass my house on to my children, and they want to do the same, and so on, the house could be in the hands of my family for generations, and no one else would gain any rights to my house. Most people would see this as just and wouldn't claim that their freedoms are being violated because they are not allowed to come into the house as they please.
If I want to pass my novel on to my children, and they want to do the same, and so on, the novel would be in the hands of my family for generations, and no one else would gain any rights to my novel. Which means that 400 years from now, if someone wanted to stage a play or write a novel playing off of one of my characters, they could be prohibited from doing so. More realistically, since my work being popular 400 years from now might be a bit of a stretch, let's look at Shakespeare.
If we really treated intellectual property like a house, then the many works derived from Shakespeare's plays would not exist, or would only exist with the permission of the current copyright holder. Nothing would pass into public domain. Not only might this limit the total art available to the public, but it would limit free speech. John Updike's novel Gertrude and Claudius, for example, which took its characters from Hamlet, could be illegal. Of course, Shakespeare didn't invent all of the characters or storylines in his works--some are drawn from history or other works--and people will point out that all art comes from other art or from life to some degree. I want to live in a society where speech and art have as few limitations as possible, so treating intellectual property as physical property to be owned forever is not desirable. (We're dealing with art here, but the ramifications of intellectual property in science and technology being owned forever are serious, which is why patents are not forever.)
But I don't want people stealing my novel Mean Martin Manning. I worked really hard on it, devoted lots of time and energy to it, and I reject the idea that it isn't in some sense mine, that it isn't property, like (and unlike) a house. I know that a house is not the same as a book. They are clearly different kinds of property, so perhaps require different treatment. But they are still property.
A house comes into possession of an owner because it was created by the owner, who took some items (wood, nails, etc.) and combined them with some skill and effort, and turned them into something of value. Or it was then purchased by someone from this owner, and then the new person became the owner. This is obviously simplified, one of the problems of trying to reduce these issues to analogy. In reality, many people helped create the house--thousands, probably, if we go down to the level of nail factory--but assuming they were not coerced, then they all fill the same role of owner who sells something he has for an agreed-upon price--a house, a service, a product, a skill--and gives up any claim to the completed house in the process, or retains some claim, agreed to by all parties; anyone not agreeing is free to not participate. We are leaving aside still more complications, like who owns the land, and so on, but we’re trying to keep it simple so our heads don’t explode.
A book, likewise, comes into possession of an owner because it was created by the author, who took some items--words, ideas, paper, pen, computer, etc.--and combined them with some skill and effort, and turned them into something of value. Or it was then purchased by someone, perhaps a publishing company, from this owner, and either this someone became the new owner, or agreed to take only certain rights and leave others with the original owner (some authors give up all rights for larger payments, but it’s rare). In reality, many people helped create the book--thousands, probably, if we go down to the level of the person who chopped down the tree that made the paper--but assuming they were not coerced, then they all fill the same role of the homeowner who sells something he has for an agreed-upon price and gives up any claim to the completed house in the process.
When a writer or publisher sells a book and a reader buys it, both seller and buyer are aware of the limitations of ownership being transferred in the transaction. If they don’t agree, they can refuse to participate and try to find someone else willing to sell or buy on terms more to their liking. Some writers might choose to make their work public domain immediately. That is their right. Readers could choose to only read works in the public domain, or buy books by authors offering more extensive ownership rights to readers and the public. That is their right.
The main point is that books and homes are both property. Government might recognize them as such for utilitarian reasons and not ethical ones, but we all know it’s stealing to take someone’s house (where would you put it?), and we all know--even if some people like to get music for free--that it’s stealing to pass off someone else’s manuscript as your own. We have no rights to someone else's work, or the results of someone else's work--whatever that work might be.
The analogy begins to break down a bit, as analogies often do. We all gain from scientific discoveries and inventions, and claiming ownership over facts of nature is baseless. No person invented the laws of physics. And novelists didn't invent the conventions of the novel, and certainly don't seek permission to use them. Our culture can't be owned by any person or corporation. Hamlet is part of the culture, as is Harry Potter. I do not object to someone using Shakespeare's creations without permission or without paying for them. I do object to someone using J.K. Rowling's creations without permission or without paying for them. Maybe because J.K. Rowling is still alive.
The issue remains complicated. Mickey Mouse has been around for a long time and is part of American culture, and at some point one would think that no corporation should be able to monopolize it. But Disney (dead) was a person, and he created Mickey Mouse, and his company has invested huge amounts of money and its shareholders (alive) have a huge stake in it, and why another amusement park or animation studio should be allowed to use Mickey Mouse, even 50 years from now, escapes me. Fair use already allows--or should allow--parody and commentary that incorporates Mickey Mouse. Is free speech being crushed by allowing Disney to continue owning Mickey Mouse? They don't own the concept of mouse characters, as Chuck E. Cheese proves. What about 400 years from now? Can the company still own Mickey Mouse? And if so, why can't Shakespeare's descendants sue John Updike?
As I said, complicated. We aren't going to resolve it all here, though your thoughts are welcome. And check out the music video.