Since the days of Napster, the technosenti have been insisting that the entertainment industry simply needs to stop complaining about copyright theft and innovate. Setting aside the fact that exploitation is not a form of innovation, I like to remind people that with regard to filmed entertainment, the technology for reliable, high-quality streaming is about five years old, which may seem like decades to a Silcon Valley millionaire or an impatient 15 year-old, but is in reality not a very long time for any industry to transform itself. Nevertheless, this infographic released by the MPAA shows over 400 perfectly legal, high-quality streaming services now available worldwide. Netflix went from beating Blockbuster at the video rental game to investing in original TV production in the span of about five years. And it’s worth noting that unlike most web businesses, which are built on monetizing activity and content that already exists, film and television producers’ core business is still actually producing work that is labor-intensive in the first place. Does this mean that in order to have a rational discussion about piracy, the industry has to innovate faster?
Category: Digital Culture
Lessig Mixes it Up
Attorney and legal scholar Lawrence Lessig considers the current copyright system to be generally antagonistic to contemporary culture. In fact, any number of common assertions about copyright’s supposed obsolescence in the digital age are very likely derivative of something written or said by Lessig, who has devoted a fair amount of energy promoting the value of the remix. In at least two video versions of this talk, he prefaces the subject by quoting John Philip Sousa, who in 1906 decried the new “talking machines” thus:
“When I was a boy … in front of every house in the summer evenings, you would find young people together singing the songs of the day or old songs. Today, you hear these infernal machines going night and day. We will not have a vocal cord left. The vocal cord will be eliminated by a process of evolution, as was the tail of man when he came from the ape.”
You might expect this quote to be used as a segue to criticism of anachronistic fears of new technology — like Jack Valenti’s infamous exaggeration about the VCR as a “Boston Strangler” — and in fact this Sousa quote has been referenced by scholars and technology advocates in this context. But in this case, Lessig cites the composer for a very different purpose, which is to tee up his audience for a chat about rediscovering what he calls “read/write culture.” In essence, Lessig claims a kinship with Sousa, pining for the days when people sang (i.e. shared) songs with one another through the nexus of their front porches. Thus grounding viewers in this nostalgic idyll, Lessig then proposes the reasonable enough notion that YouTube (or any social media) is the new front porch of our digital times. This, he tells us, is how “the kids” are sharing the songs of the day — through mashups, through bedroom performances, through remix in many forms — and it is, therefore, wrong to criminalize “the kids” for engaging in a new variation of a bygone pastime. And by “criminalize” of course he means enforcing copyrights through takedowns, C&D letters, or even lawsuits.
Now, Mr. Lessig is a controversial figure among those who care about artists’ rights and digital culture, but he is also a highly qualified legal scholar, and I would not presume to question his knowledge of the law itself. I leave such criticism (and there is plenty) to Mr. Lessig’s peers. But I do know a sales pitch when I hear one, and I certainly have a bone or two to pick with what Mr. Lessig appears to be selling.
Right off the bat, he takes Sousa’s concern for the American vocal cord entirely out of context, omitting the fact that these words were uttered as a preamble to testimony before Congress in favor of stronger copyright laws. Specifically, Sousa hoped copyright would expand to protect sound recordings, which didn’t happen for another seventy years. Regardless, even cherry picking the sentiment, I’ll buy Lessig’s comparison between the porch of yesteryear and the virtual porch of today, but I have to stop myself from being sucked too deeply into the metaphor when I realize he’s constructing a straw man. Or in this case, straw kids.
As Lessig is free to generalize in his talk — to gloss over the case-by-case realities of various infringements, fair uses, takedowns, or suits — I’ll claim the same privilege and generalize that very few rights holders are in any way interested in “criminalizing” the kind of remixing that could arguably compare to the social celebration evoked in Sousa’s yearning plea. In fact, here’s a video of some ladies singing just one of the songs of the day (the mid 80s anyway) on both a virtual and literal front stoop just as JP Sousa would supposedly have it.
This ukelele trio that calls itself No Skanks On Sunday offers a charming rendition of “Take the Skinheads Bowling,” written and originally performed by David Lowery’s band Camper Van Beethoven. And you know who’s just fine with this video remaining on YouTube? David Lowery and Camper Van Beethoven. That’s the same David Lowery who, through guest appearances and his blog The Trichordist, has become one of the most outspoken opponents of piracy and other forms of mass digital infringement. But when I asked him about this video, his response was, “Yeah, we don’t care about that stuff.” And I’ll bet my paycheck against Lessig’s that the majority of rights holders feel the same way about this kind of use. So, if we’re going to generalize, I think it’s accurate to say that remix culture, for better or worse, is doing just fine and that the number of wrongful, mean-spirited, or aggressive takedowns represent the exception rather than the rule. So, while I don’t know the law well enough to tangle with Lawrence Lessig, I see little evidence of rampant “criminalization of the kids,” which makes me wonder if Lessig is really concerned with defending culture, or is he concerned with selling books and making a career out of addressing a problem that isn’t a real problem?
Meanwhile, what is certainly offensive to artists and bad for culture at the same time is what happens when one types “Take the Skinheads Bowling,” or just about any other song title, into a search engine. We’re supposed to be 20 years into “the information age,” but good information is actually becoming harder to find if search is the tool being used. The top results will be a handful of YouTube videos of CVB playing their song, none of which are by permission; then the obligatory Wikipedia entry, which is an okay first source but requires fact-checking; then there’s a smattering of unlicensed lyric sites selling ads and only sometimes crediting the songwriters; and then we get into torrents and other means of downloading unlicensed versions of the song itself. Nearly all of this activity directs money into Google’s coffers, and neither the band nor the public is particularly well served if the initial search began with “What’s that song? Whose is it? I want to know more?” For all the noise about “connecting with fans,” search is actually a wonderful way to disconnect works from their authors and to hijack potential fans away from patronizing the artists themselves. I think we all have a bit of ADD on the web; we set out looking for something and can be easily distracted by the offerings in the top results. Think Google doesn’t know this?
I remain confused as to why a band’s official website is not among the top results when one types in famous lyrics or song tiles; and I know what SEO is, but if cultural diffusion is the goal, shouldn’t the digital-age version of the album cover be among the first sources discovered by someone searching a song? CVB’s site offers lyrics, notes, guitar tabs (all free); and the user just might, I don’t know, learn something about the band and discover more tunes he or she likes. That’s connecting with fans; but the company that owns the only search engine to speak of and the only ad server to speak of doesn’t really support traffic directed in this way.
So, as a legal layman but active observer of these things, it seems to me Mr. Lessig’s presentation, though charming, contains at least two fallacious premises. The first is that the positive aspects of remix culture are actually threatened by the copyright system; and the second is that remix culture is universally positive. I don’t know of any cases in which rights holders are stopping “the kids” from singing the songs of the day on YouTube. But there are plenty of cases in which adults are profiting from remixing culture in ways that benefit neither fans nor creators. While it’s almost rote these days to call everyone a shill, I don’t think this is very helpful. I prefer to assume intelligent people mean what they say and believe in their positions, and Lawrence Lessig is certainly an intelligent man. Of course, that might be why his ideas are ultimately so dangerous.
Dr. King & the Public Domain
Every time a Martin Luther King anniversary comes around, the anti-copyright armada is well armed with blogs and articles decrying the indecency that the civil rights leader’s words and recordings are not in the public domain. And never one to miss such an opportunity, even while missing the point, Mike Masnick at Techdirt insists that Dr. King’s “I Have a Dream” speech should no longer be protected by copyright controlled by the King estate.
You know the speech, right? Who doesn’t? We celebrated it’s 50th anniversary yesterday, and it’s only one of the most famous pieces of oratory in world history. Yet, despite the fact that Dr. King’s words managed to attain osmotic universality long before the invention of YouTube, one gets the idea from reading Masnick’s post that without “sharing” the speech through social media, it might simply vanish into oblivion.
I understand the sentiment. After all, these words feel like public property, and they were among the many gifts King gave to humanity. So, is it really fair that the King family can manage or even license this speech and “sully” its legacy with money? It is. And the primary reason should be obvious: because YouTube doesn’t belong to the people, it belongs to Google; and Google monetizes every click. That means Masnick’s idealistic musings that sound humanistic are already sullied with money, except that in his world, the money would be Google’s, and the King family would get zip. How is that more fair or better serving the public interest?
The internet industry has done such a thorough job of telling people that the web belongs to all of us, we actually believe it. Masnick’s title “Let Freedom Ka-Ching” is admittedly clever, but it’s also hypocritical. He mocks the tawdry commercialism of licensing King’s emancipating words for use as a ringtone and cites Professor Boyle of Duke University, who also mocks such use; but why is the alternative better? If I made an homage mash-up that earned millions of views on YouTube, why would it be any less tawdry for Google to advertise fast food against it? Go a step further: what if a white-supremacist group creates a racist mash-up with the speech that generates millions of views, and Google sells ads against that? The King family would be powerless to do anything about it, and Google would keep the video online because it’s “free speech.” Ka-ching!
We keep forgetting that copyright is often about preserving the integrity of works, and not just about money. Estates have long played the role of curators who protect the legacy of authors’ works, and we dismiss the value of this at our peril, even as we mock the idea of “I Have a Dream” as a ringtone. I happen to think a ringtone is not a bad use as uses go, but that’s another conversation.
The web moves fast, it favors what “trends” and not necessarily what endures. There is no evidence to suggest that my fellow Americans are any more enlightened or have more ardently embraced the goals of the civil rights movement because of social media and so much jittery sharing of things. Worse yet, can we say for certain that a generation or two from now, the legacy of King would not be mangled through reuse beyond all recognition? The answer is no we can’t say that for certain because we’re making assumptions based on technologies and social trends that are less than a decade old. And we have seen plenty of evidence that what goes viral is not always accurate or valuable.
I for one think Martin Luther King, Jr. already gave us plenty; and access to his works is anything but limited. You might have to get off your butt and go to the library, but considering how far he walked, that doesn’t seem like a lot to ask.

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