Times are a changin’ – but in what direction?

I am a son of the advertising business.  The year I was born, my father was a senior writer  working for Guy Day in Los Angeles prior to the 1968 merger with Jay Chiat that would produce the industry powerhouse known as Chiat/Day and is now known as TBWAChiat/Day. In the late 1960s, my father’s contemporaries in general, and Chiat/Day in particular, represented a revolutionary generation of advertising professionals who changed the game demonstrably from the world we see fictionalized in the hit show Mad Men. Up to about the mid-1960s, a job in the ad business was often a favor granted to young, white, protestant men by old, white, protestant men, who generally had few talents beyond the art of the three-martini lunch. By the 1970s, the ad business had diversified culturally and geographically beyond the aeries and saloons of New York and Chicago, and with this came a renaissance in which writers, art directors, and filmmakers all took creative risks that were unthinkable just a decade before.

d046472bf2477f706780aaa1a5d8246bSo, what are we to make of this campaign?  Does it represent the visionary legacy of the agency just keeping in step with our digital times? Or is it a reversion to the days of old-boy networks selling Lucky Strikes in the schoolyard? One thing it is not — is  terribly creative.

For the next couple of weeks, Times Square will include among its multi-million-dollar outdoor placements, a stark display headlined by the declaration Piracy is Progress.  This provocative lead is justified by the pretense that it is merely a benign attention-getter inviting “artists” to a website where they can vote Yay or Nay on the question of whether piracy as a good or bad thing.  The campaign itself is claimed to be the concept of the band Ghost Beach as a means to “stimulate discussion” on the issue, and the agency of record is TBWA Chiat/Day. But let’s guess that there’s no way Ghost Beach is paying for the campaign alone, if at all, especially the quarter ton of raw bullion it costs to buy space in Times Square.  So, who is paying for the campaign to declare that piracy is progress on the world’s largest ad stage? Chris Castle is dead right to call the headline Orwellian, and I have to say that the brain warp induced by an encounter with this particular sampling of Newspeak jostles a not-too-distant memory of an award-winning TV commercial for Apple Computer based on 1984 and produced by…guess which agency? Well, one must roll with the times, I suppose, and maybe Big Brother is cool now.

The fraud in this campaign barely warrants discussion, as I think it would be obvious that the online poll question about piracy is exclusively a diversion being used to sell one particular answer (and maybe a few Ghost Beach albums). I’ll give the guys at TWBAChiat/Day this much:  it is the quintessential ad for our times — creatively facile, a careless abuse of a complex issue, and shrouded in the guise of phony populism. It is exemplary of the worst in communications in the digital age in that it pretends to invite participation, pretends to ask what you think while telling you exactly what you should think. And let’s not spend too much time considering how absurd it is to claim that an online poll can invite one particular group to participate and then state with any accuracy that these are the people responding.  Here’s a random Tweet from one “artistforpiracy”:  Any artist that disagrees I would love to hear why you prefer record labels ruining your music instead.  In other words, more of the same hackneyed presumptions from people who don’t make art for a living and have no idea what they’re talking about.

When I was in my early teens, I remember asking my father if there were any clients he wouldn’t pursue — by this time he was running his own L.A. agency with an art-director partner he met at Chiat/Day — and his one-word answer was, “Cigarettes.”  Interestingly enough, in a 2004 Adweek Interview with TBWAChiat/Day’s current Chief Creative Officer, Mark Figliulo, was asked the same question, to which he replied, “The George W. Bush campaign.”  Fair enough, and I guess I can count Mr. Figliulo as a fellow progressive; but then I’m confused by the failure of social responsibility here. After all, Mark Figliulo has done a lot of really solid, creative work in his career, even directing some of his own TV spots or working with talents like Spike Jonze on commercials for Miller Lite.  It is, therefore, somewhat surprising to think that professionals like Figliulo and his creative team fail to consider the intricate relationship between their own careers and those of artists and rights holders, who might choose not to be exploited.  Just as one obvious example, Miller Lite has a pretty strong brand association with the NFL, and last I checked, those guys are rather serious about protecting their broadcasting rights from piracy.

Whoever paid for this campaign is probably a very attractive client, and maybe the short money says screw the artists. On the other hand, maybe the creative team at TBWAChiat/Day really do believe they’re on the leading edge of the next renaissance.  I don’t presume to know their minds, but I do have to say this campaign has all the integrity and cleverness of “More Doctors Smoke Camels Than Any Other Cigarette.”

See follow-up article here.

Copyright, copyright everywhere…

There is certainly no shortage of copyright in the news these days, and readers of this blog might wonder about my silence on subjects like the Supreme Court’s ruling in Kirtsaeng or the testimony before Congress by Register of Copyright Maria Pallante calling for the next great overhaul of the law. For starters, when I began writing IOM, I never intended for it to overemphasize copyright as a topic; and I have stated repeatedly in posts and comments that there are plenty of sites (see blogroll) hosted by legal experts in Intellectual Property, which I do not presume to be. In fact, one of my ongoing criticisms of the Web is that its mechanisms tend to bring out the armchair expert on all subjects, regardless of their complexity, which invariably reduces even the most intricate matters to popular sentiment based on prejudices already held before discussion began.  An illusion of discourse heading in no particular direction.

I write this blog from two main perspectives — as an artist working to navigate a changing career in the middle of tremendous upheaval and churn; and as a citizen with a measure of socratic humility, admitting that my observations are limited and that there are always experts who know more than I about many things. I bet if I walked into my local diner and talked to the 50+ crowd, I could gather a smattering of opinions on say North Korea but probably receive blank stares on copyright.  If I did the same thing with a bunch of local sixteen year-olds, I might get blank stares on North Korea and an earful on the evils of copyright.  Odds are, of course, few of these opinions will be grounded in quality journalism, let alone first-source expertise.  Yes, the Internet makes it possible to cut through bumper-sticker politics and acquire expert information, but it’s also a great tool for repeating the bumper stickers, which is why amateurs can make a whole career out of repeating what people want to hear, regardless of substance. So it is with copyright.

If uninformed, declaratives about copyright are the froth in your latte, then TechDirt is the site for you. I read Mike Masnick’s post, for instance, concerning Pallante’s testimony, and the typical blogger thing to do would be for someone like me to critique that post fallacy by fallacy; but the prospect of doing so is almost as tedious as it is futile.  After all, both Masnick and I are about as expert on copyright law as we probably are on plumbing.  Those opposed to strong copyright protections already agree with his post, and those in favor will agree with mine. Meanwhile, I’m betting a large segment of the American population neither knows nor cares to know about the inner workings of these laws; so I often find myself wondering about the value of us amateurs arguing via blog over some of the more fleeting and granular aspects of a legal system that will likely take several years to evolve into its next incarnation.

So, for anyone who reads this blog and is not knee-deep in the gore of the copyright battle, the big picture as I see it this:  I believe the copyright system will change over the next decade or so, but if that change is predicated too much on the self-serving premises of its tech-industry antagonists, the results for artists in particular, and for society in general, will be regressive rather than progressive. It would be like allowing the oil industry to overly influence emissions policy.  Copyright stifles innovation is a popular meme and a cornerstone premise of the entire cabal aligned against the system, but this assertion is never supported by solid examples or data, which leads one to conclude that innovation describes what is contemporary and popular, regardless of whether or not it is economically progressive or, dare I say, fair.  We generalists could boil down the details to  a few fundamental questions when considering the future of copyright:  Is enterprise-scale piracy innovation or exploitation? Is the right of the author a civil right or a government handout?  Is copyright relevant for the individual or just a tool for big corporations?

These may be questions my kids’ generation will have to answer, but in order to do so honestly, they will need to come to terms with certain practical realities that don’t require legal scholarship.  First, they’ll need to recognize that the Internet is not an extension of themselves, but a technological piece of infrastructure over which just a few corporations wield unprecedented power.  Next, they’ll need to see past the selfish habit of acquiring media for free and accept that there is no such thing as an economy based on free stuff, that someone always pays and who pays makes a difference.  They’ll need to recognize that no matter what they believe about big media companies and lobbyists, flesh-and-blood, independent artists and small creative businesses are experiencing tangible and measurable harm. In fact, as I write this, musician and activist David Lowery, speaking at the Canadian Music Week’s Global Forum, just said the following: “The first week our new Camper Van Beethoven album came out, I watched one seed on BitTorrent distribute more copies than we sold.” I think you have to be both daft and depraved to describe this as innovation, and this kind of spin has no business informing the future of copyright.

I was asked the other day by a gadfly baiting me on Twitter if a “win” for me would be the triumph of the RIAA and the MPAA. I don’t know what that means, and neither does the gadfly; but these implicit accusations are typical of the associative politics to which neither conservatives nor progressives are immune.  Such interactions are circular, boring, and meaningless. And the hypocrisy is off the charts. I won’t pretend I’m a legal scholar, but the number of tech utopians who presume to lecture the creative community about how to make albums, motion pictures, and other works is truly staggering.

As I say, this blog was never intended to be all about copyright, and it occurs to me that part of its intent was to share observations from the perspective of developing new film projects in the current landscape. I admit that I am too easily attracted to the broad discussion, and I shall make an effort to steer this blog to be a little more film project focused, if for no other reason than film is next and may be more vulnerable than music.  It’s been a long time since Lars Ulrich was pilloried on the steps of Napster, and today we see musicians, from fairly obscure to the biggest names, coming forward to talk about artists’ rights in the digital age, and not without reason.  The truth is I don’t care if I or one of my colleagues develops a new film as a self-produced project, a deal with a Netflix, a traditional studio, or an established indie production company — whatever best serves the work.  But there is not one of these paths that is not founded on the right of the author to retain first choice in the process by establishing a precedent of ownership in the work.  Beyond that fundamental reality are many intricate details for professionals to work out and a whole lot of amateur-hour bullshit that deserves once and for all to be moved to the fringes of the debate.

More Than 3Dimensions

WrenchOwnership is the subject of “On the Media’s” recent broadcast from WNYC, and the show’s producers talked to a variety of voices about the ever-shifting tensions between intellectual property rights and disruptive technologies.  One segment featured a conversation with Chris Anderson, CEO of 3D Robotics, and the theme was a familiar one — the inevitable disruption of manufacturing by 3D printing technology coupled with a preemptive criticism of federal regulation that would seek to mitigate said disruption as a protectionist move among traditional manufacturers.  Before this technology is anywhere near wide distribution, its proponents are already anticipating the kind of legal constraints that might naturally ensue, and they’re getting their message out early — namely that 3D printing is the next revolution in a DIY, permission-free lifestyle, and it will be great for all of us if lawmakers don’t mess it up.  But to what extent is this conversation purely academic?  In fact, host Bob Garfield’s example of printing a wrench is itself and indication as to why 3D printing may not be quite so universally disruptive, or at least not in the way many proponents assume.

Start with the premise that I bet I’m not the only one who has gone through at least a dozen or so ink jet printers in my life so far, and we all know why.  Because the printers are made to retail pretty cheaply in order to lock us into buying toner cartridges that are still quite expensive.  Over twenty years of desktop printing, and the price of a black toner cartridge is still $30 to $40 at Staples.

So now, it’s the future, and I have my 3D printer, which had to retail for maybe $500 or less in order to achieve market penetration; and I’m ready to print myself a new crescent wrench, something that has already been done by various printer advocates and entrepreneurs.  If black toner is $30, how much will it cost for, I don’t know, 30oz of whatever MagicGoo has been invented to enable printing a wrench that has enough structural integrity to truly fulfill its purpose (i.e. not break)? It’s going to have to be really cheap and really good (two things that often don’t coincide) in order to compete with the steel-alloy, nickel-plated Craftsman I can buy for about $30 and comes with a lifetime guarantee.  And of course my 3D printer better be a lot more reliable than my 2D printers have been because I’m sure many of us have lost whole days fighting with these delicate, cantankerous beasts, which is right around the time we give up and buy a new one.  Meanwhile, I’ve got bolts on the kids’ swing set that remain unbolted because my printer jammed half-way through making my stupid wrench, and my wife is telling me I’m an idiot for not going to the hardware store two hours ago. So, a lot more than downloading software and owning a printer has to align for this entire prospect to be superior to the current wrench acquisition paradigm that is neither cumbersome nor cost-prohibitive.  And that’s just a wrench.

Take something a little more complicated but still low-tech like a brake caliper, which has several components and retails for my car for about $60. In its present form, the caliper (like so many products) represents mining, petroleum production, rubber harvesting, commodities markets, international trade, shipping (which is protected by the US Navy), machining, assembly,  testing, and regulatory safety standards. And still, the part is only twenty dollars more than a black toner cartridge. But as this is a moving part complete with spring, I can’t just build it as one piece out of nothing but MagicGoo. Hence, are we envisioning a future in which individual consumers have affordable access to raw materials like copper, metal alloys, rubber, etc. all in some form that can be extruded through the 3D printer?  If so, that’s a pretty massive shift in the global supply chain; but even if the day comes when I can precision-print each component, I still have to assemble the caliper by hand (presumably with tools I’ve also printed), which brings us to another matter. . . . Guess what none of us has anymore — auto insurance.  Car parts are just one example of products that come with a liability chain, and I’m betting there isn’t going to be an underwriter willing to insure drivers who make and assemble their own parts.  By contrast the calipers on all our cars have a supply chain that can be traced, which provides a) relative assurance in reliability; b) absolves us consumers of personal liability; and c) provides insight into systemic problems when something does fail.

Just glancing across my rather cluttered desk at the moment, I recognize products that contain gold, silver, copper, silicone, steel, aluminum, rubber, and cotton, all assembled in very specific combinations either by hand or by robot.  In fact, the complexity of systems that put these things at my fingertips belies their affordability. Hence, my immediate instinct is that many of these preemptive policy statements by 3D printing champions make for very interesting conversation and TED Talks, but still belong in the realm of the academic.  A holistic contemplation of 3D printer disruption, taking into account what a pain in the ass common ink printers have been so far, shows it will take a lot more than building an object that looks like a product for the thing to actually be that product.

Technologists and inventors are supposed to dream big; it’s part of their job description. And the prospect of 3D printing to produce new products or new methods of certain types of production in the arts, in food, even potentially in housing, are very intriguing, but to proclaim imminent disruption across the entire manufacturing sector seems a tad premature. And the policy messages start to sound a little like people arguing for revised traffic laws in anticipation of that day we all have jet packs. All that said, I’d be very eager to use a 3D printer to print out new 2D printers and especially those damnable toner cartridges.