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.

Conversation with Chris Ruen (Podcast)

Chris Ruen Part I
Chris Ruen Part II
From OR Books.

Freeloading: How Our Insatiable Appetite for Free Content Starves Creativity

In his new book, author Chris Ruen provides a glimpse into his personal transition from consumer of free media to advocate for artists’ rights and a more rational conversation about copyright in the digital age.  Ruen shares his own thoughts about common justifications for online piracy, about the mechanics behind the anti-SOPA protest, and about his own proposals for a renewed dialogue about copyright reform and enforcement.  While certain professionals on either side of the debate may take issue with Ruen’s specific, legal proposals, I believe the general reader with even a passing interest in the cultural aspects of what Ruen calls “freeloading,” can learn a great deal from this book.  In particular, the middle third of the work is comprised of interviews with musicians and producers from the independent punk scene — guys who are about as anti-establishment as it gets — and their no-nonsense views on the rationales supporting online piracy are well worth the attention of anyone who thinks he’s stickin’ to The Man by downloading torrents.

I spoke to Chris last week via Skype and found our conversation very engaging. In fact, I’m providing the discussion almost unedited, without introduction, and in two parts.  I hope you find these podcasts interesting and that you’ll let me know what you think.

For more information about Chris or to buy a copy of Freelaoding:  How Our Insatiable Appetite for Free Content Starves Creativity, visit www.chrisruen.com

Find a Real Cause

                   

Let’s compare.  Both of these videos are technically marketing pieces. I would know as I’ve made a few hundred marketing videos in my career.  But what is each video selling, and how is each doing its job?

The video on the left is produced by Kim Dotcom and is selling one message:  Free Kim Dotcom.  The video on the right is produced by The What Took You So Long Foundation, and it is selling one message:  TEDx is a force for positive change in the world. Dotcom’s video has nearly one million views; the TEDx video, just over one thousand.  The former is an example of what I consider the most destructive and cynical manifestations of the digital age, while the latter represents what I perceive as the best in next-gen, progressive spirit connected and empowered by technology.

Dotcom’s video is more than a little creepy. It uses the desaturated hues we associate with post-apocalyptic movies, a fake TV-noise plug-in to give Dotcom himself a subversive, underground appeal; repeated images of angry mobs hiding behind Guy Fawkes masks to enhance the theater of revolution; and a catchy, electronica tune with lyrics that speak of humanism in contrast to the almost threatening, dystopian montage.

Dotcom may have the gall to compare himself to Martin Luther King, but the video is actually more reminiscent of a terrorist training film than a promo for social change, and that’s why it’s effective.  It takes a cynical, pseudo-revolutionary video to appeal to a cynical psychology — one that actually believes that streaming stolen creative media via torrent sites is somehow striking a blow for freedom and justice in the world.

By contrast, everything we see in the TEDx video is exactly the opposite in sensibility and intent.  First, we see faces, a lot of faces of real people who left their desktops and traveled to Doha to participate in something and engage in physical interaction. Not that the TED enterprise is without its flaws, but this video itself taps into what I would describe as a progressive deconstruction of institutions — a global “think different” consciousness that very likely will bypass traditional means to solve real problems like hunger, disease, and poverty.

When Eiso Vaandager says toward the end of the video that he “envisions the UN coming to TEDx organizers to solve a problem they can’t,” this is the kind of audacious claim worthy of our attention; and it only underscores just how offensive it is to hear Kim Schmitz use the same media to compare himself to civil rights leaders and other legitimate heroes.

I suspect the jaundiced supporters of the Dotcom video imagine themselves somehow allied with the proactive folks in the TEDx video because, of course, people have a tendency to believe in associative relationships among things that sound similar (both are bucking systems, aren’t they?); but there really is no comparison.  Dotcom’s video targets Americans — people who already enjoy freedom, and it aims to convince them that his incarceration would be their prison, too. The TEDx video targets a global community, and it aims to convince people that energy, willingness, and intelligence can solve real issues.

Of course the word freedom is a slippery little bugger. It gets used by everyone from peace activists to corporate fat cats to terrorists; and Dotcom is merely following in a long tradition of vested interests abusing the concept to defend personal gain and deflect attention away from the harm he does. As an artist and an American, I cherish the First Amendment above all other laws; and it is destructive both to creative works and to the First Amendment when a guy like Schmitz presumes to hide his theft of the former behind the humanistic benevolence of the latter.

If what you envision is legit social change, there are plenty of progressive and tangible ways to take action — everything from just supporting a crowd-funding campaign for a cause to lending actual knowledge, assistance, or muscle to a project of interest. But streaming free entertainment in order to fill the pockets of a guy who has produced exactly nothing in the world counts for less than zero on the social change meter.

There is actual oppression in the world, real sorrow, real evil worth your attention and action. Right now, thousands of human beings worldwide are being trafficked as sex or labor slaves; too much of the technology we take for granted is being produced by hands in poor working conditions; climate change is real; terrorism is real; hunger is real; there’s a revolution in Syria you might have heard about; the Iranian government is playing a dangerous and complex game; we have thousands of homeless and suicidal veterans here in the U.S.; Russia just sentenced musicians to prison for performing a protest song; oh, and the world economy is still pretty shaky.  If you’re looking for heroes and villains, they’re out there; but if Dotcom and Hollywood fit those definitions for you respectively, you’re more than a little naive.