The Public Domain

Last night I went to the Royal Society of Arts (of which I am, ahem, a Fellow, don’t you know) for James Boyle’s lecture.

I’ve been reading his book which — as the event Chairman, Bill Thompson (left in photograph), observed — is beautifully written (unlike some other treatises on intellectual property that I could name). Perusing the list of attendees beforehand (it was a full house), James noted that it was dominated not by IP lawyers but by techies and ‘creative industry’ types, and wisely decided to go into storytelling rather than law-professor mode. The result: a riveting and thought-provoking event.

BillT is right: The Public Domain is a lovely book, gracefully written and persuasive. Its central themes are:

  • For the last 50 years we’ve been expanding intellectual property rights in ways that are unwise
  • In the process we’ve been reducing (indeed enclosing) the public domain at a time when that domain is becoming increasingly important for our cultural and economic wellbeing
  • We’ve got the balance between IPRs and the public domain wrong
  • All of this has happened largely because — almost uniquely in legislative processes — policymaking on IP matters takes place in an evidence-free zone
  • Boyle thinks that we need a movement (analogous to the environment movement) to protect and reverse the enclosure of the public domain.

    Like me, JB is a great admirer of Macaulay. (Unlike me, he sometimes writes like him too.) The book has some lovely quotes from Mac’s speeches on copyright. He was particularly fierce against attempts to extend its term far beyond the death of the author — and particularly against the idea that literary legatees might choose to withdraw access to great works. Here he is, for example, on Boswell’s Life of Samuel Johnson.

    One of the most instructive, interesting and delightful works in our language is Boswell’s Life of Johnson. Now it is well known that Boswell’s eldest son considered this book, considered the whole relation of Boswell to Johnson, as a blot on the escutcheon of the family. He thought, not perhaps altogether without reason, that his father had exhibited himself in a ludicrous and degrading light. And thus he became so sore and irritable that at last he could not bear to hear The Life of Johnson mentioned. Suppose that the law had been who my honourable and learned friend wishes to make it. Suppose that the copyright of Boswell’s Life of Johnson had belonged, as well it might, during sixty years to Boswell’s eldest son. What would have been the consequence? An unadulterated copy of the finest biographical work in the world would have been as scarce as the first edition of Camden’s Britannia.

    Boyle argues that, in many respects, people like Thomas Jefferson and Macaulay got right to the heart of the matter. One couldn’t ask for a better refutation of the IP lobby’s arguments that extending IP rights incentivises authors (including dead ones) than this blast — again about Dr Johnson.

    Dr. Johnson died fifty-six years ago. If the law were what my honourable and learned friend wishes to make it, somebody would now have the monopoly of Dr. Johnson’s works… Now, would the knowledge that this copyright would exist in 1841 have been a source of gratification to Johnson? Would it have stimulated his exertions? Would it have once drawn him out of his bed before noon? Would it have once cheered him under a fit of the spleen? Would it have induced him to give us one more allegory, one more life of a poet, one more imitation of Juvenal? I firmly believe not. I firmly believe that a hundred years ago, when he was writing our debates for The Gentleman’s Magazine, he would very much rather have had twopence to buy a plate of shin of beef at a cook’s shop underground.

    Shameless plug: James Boyle is coming to Cambridge to give the first Arcadia Lecture at my college. Details here. All welcome.

    The Great Rewind

    I was brooding about the (dire) state of the automobile industry, and thinking that however pragmatic a short-term rescue for GM & Co might be, it makes no long term sense to enable them to continue as they were. Why? Because that would just be to encourage them to continue making products that are no longer desireable or needed. (It’s strange how silly SUVs look now.)

    As usual, Mark Anderson has an interesting take on what’s going on.

    I would like to suggest a way of viewing today’s layoffs in a different light. It now appears that we have been living on borrowed money, literally, since about 2000. Whether you are looking at house pricing and the housing boom (and bust), or stocks, or commodities, or consumer items, it’s all basically true: the pricing of the last eight years was supported by too much personal (and corporate) debt. Alan Greenspan gets most of the credit in the U.S. side of this story, but that’s a different tale.

    In that sense, layoffs are not “bad.” Our society tried to live beyond its means, we invented fake ways of making fake money, all built on debt and fake financial structures. All of that now has to come down. The jobs we are “losing” never really existed, by and large. Rather, that level of employment, at least in the way those jobs were allocated, was itself, mostly, also fake.

    We are now rewinding back to 2000, like it or not, back to a time when borrowing was high but not exponentially approaching infiinity; when house prices were high in many places, but not doubling and tripling in short order; when stocks were expensive, but not hundreds of times earnings (and not fueled by borrowed fake money).

    Once we have done this rewind, down to what you might call a “value base,” a base level of employment justified by a normal (and now temporarily reduced) workload, we can allocate jobs, work hours, and money for salaries all over again, as a society. Guess what won’t happen? All the smartest kids in physics won’t end up on Wall Street. If they do, we’d better all move to some agrarian economy.

    I can only imagine how hard it is on families to live through this Rewind Period, but I also suspect that knowing it is a Rewind, rather than an Infinite Collapse, should be helpful. I hope it is.

    Why Dave Winer switched to Mac in 2005

    Salutary blog post by Dave W.

    I switched because I was Mired In Malware.

    I got a new EeePC 1000HE last week, and after just a few hours of use, it’s infected with a rootkit virus of some kind. Really clever. Spent three hours last night trying to eradicate it, but in the last three or four years, the malware guys have gotten a lot more clever.

    Contemplating switching to the Hackintosh flavor of netbook.

    Ran Ad-Aware, getting ready to run Spybot. Downloaded Combofix. I’m going to try to resurrect this baby. Also considering doing a fresh install of Windows but that sounds like more work that Leopard. And then you’re still using Windows.

    Yep. I switched to Mac in 1999. Never had any trouble since. Touch wood.

    JUST IN: This via Glyn Moody:

    Appointments for cancer patients had to be rescheduled after a computer virus infected the networking systems at two Scottish hospitals last week.

    The infection of laboratory PCs at the Stobhill and Gartnavel General hospitals meant the bookings of 12 patients attending the Beatson West of Scotland Cancer Care Centre in Glasgow were postponed, The Glasgow Herald reports. Systems were taken offline for two days to allow computer technicians to clean up the mess…

    Now, I wonder which OS they were running.

    Professionalism

    “I grew up at ground zero during an age of terror. Just 10 miles upwind of my elementary school in Omaha, Nebraska sat Strategic Air Command headquarters, its proud motto posted outside the security gates: ‘Peace Is Our Profession.’ A group of radical nuns had once spray-painted ‘War Is Just a Hobby’ on the sign before being dragged away in cuffs.”

    John Nagl, writing in Democracy: A Journal of Ideas.

    Kindle 2 Usability Review

    Jakob Nielsen likes the new Kindle.

    The new version of Kindle, Amazon.com’s dedicated e-book device, recently shipped with an improved display and various other upgrades. It now provides good usability for reading linear fiction (mainly novels), though it’s less usable for other reading tasks.

    As an experiment, I bought two copies of the same book: a trade paperback and a Kindle download. Alternating for each chapter, I read half the book in print and half on the Kindle screen. My reading speed was exactly the same (less than 0.5% difference), measured in words per minute.

    Of course, one person reading one book is not a proper measurement study. So I can’t say for sure that Kindle has finally reached the nirvana of equal readability for screens and paper. But it did feel that way.

    When I was carrying Kindle through the house, I felt like a Star Trek character with a datapad. But when I actually sat down to read the novel, I became so engrossed in the story that I forgot I was reading from an electronic device. This fact alone is high praise for the device designers…

    What the broadcasters tried next

    From BBC NEWS.

    Project Canvas will bring together content from some of the UK’s biggest channels, including the BBC, ITV, Channel 4 and Five. Viewers will be able to watch on-demand content through their television via a special set top box, expected to cost between £100-£200.

    It is being described as Freeview Mark 2. The BBC’s director general Mark Thompson called it “potentially the holy grail of future public service broadcasting provision in the UK”.

    The service will run in addition to existing on-demand efforts such as BBC iPlayer and 4oD, and content on Canvas will require no extra subscription – just an existing broadband connection.

    The Last Two Journalists in America

    Lovely WashPost column by John Kelly.

    The last two journalists in America sat at a card table in the middle of their empty newsroom. They faced each other, about to flip a coin.

    The coin was to decide which one would be the second-to-last journalist in America and which one would be the last journalist in America.

    The last two journalists in America were dressed oddly; not poorly, as journalists usually dressed, but in what appeared to be costumes. The woman looked as if she’d stepped out of a black-and-white movie. She wore a tight-waisted woolen [sic] dress with angular shoulders. There was a seam up the back of her stockings. Two pencils stuck out of a bun of tightly-gathered hair at the back of her head. The man had on flared pants, a loud, collared shirt and a necktie as wide as a dinner napkin.

    She was from "His Girl Friday." He was from ‘All the President’s Men.’

    “Call it,” the man said, flipping the coin in the air.

    They’d known this day was coming — had spent the past 10 years watching it get closer — but even so it was a bit of a shock to see it arrive. The newsroom that had thrummed for so long was vacant. The computers and phones were gone. The desks had been sold for scrap. Their contents — spiral-bound notebooks, computer printouts, government documents, letters from inmates, soy sauce packets, Freedom of Information Act requests, paper-clip chains, journalism awards, eraserless pencils — had been push-broomed into huge drifts that dotted the cavernous room like termite mounds on the savanna.

    “Heads,” the woman said…