Categories
Copyright Legal, Laws, and Regs

Freedom to innovate

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

UpdateOf course, I realize that I’m probably a-l-l-l-l-l-l-l alone in the viewpoint I’m expressing in this post. Which is a true measure of freedom to speak — when you can speak amidst your peers and not get stoned.

(Damn, did I just get hit by a falling link?)

And no, as a matter of clarification, I wasn’t offered a job with Disney. But I do get unhappy when I hear people say things such as “artists gouging their rights from the public”. Makes me not want to be an artist, if by doing so I’m ‘gouging’ someone out of their rights to take my stuff and do what they want with it.

If Mark Twain were alive today, he’d agree with me. You know something, else? If Mark Twain were alive today, he’d be a great blogger.

And he’d agree with me.

-earlier-

This will be my last posting on copyright, Creative Commons, Eldred vs. Ashcroft, and freedom of speech as compared to freedom of innovation. Too often in these discussions we become little mini-lawyers, spouting out rules and regs of law, citing article and verse, as if he or she who can reference more, wins. What we should be discussing is what all of this means to us, as individuals, and leave the law to the lawyers and the discussion of law to the courts.

Long ago when I talked about the Creative Commons licenses, Dorothea Salo wrote a weblog posting about how she wouldn’t be using CC licenses or copyright notices at her weblog. Her reasoning is based on a story of plagarism, revenge, and brilliance; all set in the early 1600’s and resulting, ultimately in that classic work El ingenioso hidalgo Don Quixote de la Mancha. According to Dorothea:

 

To me, these are appropriate revenges on an appropriate field of battle, revenges that enrich us all. What good to world culture is a court fight over creativity? What is the good of automatically branding creativity with the mark of the lawyers, as if there were no other way to think or act toward it?

The only unchanging language is a dead one. The only creative work never to be reworked, rethought, stolen from, excerpted, (yes, even) copied is—a dead one. The legal arena of copyright, even the benign-by-comparison Creative Commons form of it, is murdering creative works both existing and potential. Killing them dead

 

Dorothea’s choice is an unusual one today — she chose no legal path, at all. In other words, a person can take her work, do what they will with it, and she won’t sue them or otherwise invoke any law on the person. One could say that Dorothea has given her works to the Public Domain, but she doesn’t even necessarily acknowledge the Domain. Her work is. Use it, or not.

What Dorothea has done is shown us that copyright laws are only effective if the copyright owners choose to exercise their rights of ownership. If a thousand people copy a poem, a book, or a song, and the owners of same don’t sue, then ‘rights’ as granted by copyright law are meaningless. Copyright law is a passive law — it doesn’t seek to enforce your rights, you must invoke both the law and your rights.

A couple of months back, Shannon Campbell wrote a post about another weblogger, Scott Andrew LePera, copying one of her songs and then editing it, adding himself into the mix. Well, this was clearly an act of copyright infringement, but instead of getting a lawyer and suing Scott, Shannon was delighted. She wrote:

 

Having been a solo performer a greal deal of my career, I’ve never had the opportunity to hear one of my songs with bass and percussion. To be honest, if you’d asked me to pick one of the six or seven I have available for download to overdub, this would’ve been the last one, but only because I never envisioned it would work so well.

You did an incredible job of working with the dynamics of the song, and building it *just right*. The harmonies are perfect, especially on the chorus, where I’ve had a lot of trouble finding the pocket for them myself. I guess it’s that whole “objectively listening to your own material” thing.

 

Derivation really is in the eye of the artist, and some artists support derivatives and others don’t or don’t support certain forms of derivation. Regardless of what you do with the copyright laws, how you manage their lengths and their enforcement, a derivative work will always be a goodness if supported by the creator, and tainted if it is performed in defiance of the creator. No copyright law will ever change this, and this isn’t a question of ‘natural’ law versus any other kind of law — this is based on human behavior.

In my comments, Timothy Phillips wrote:

 

My view is that the rights that copyright holders enjoy are rights that have been gouged out of the public’s rights (emphasis added). The public has “sacrificed” (James Madison’s word) or “derogated” (Levi Lincoln, who I believe was Attorney General in the first Jefferson administration) some of its rights to the rightsholder. Hence whatever rights the copyright or patent holder has, the public had first. The public cut off a bit of its rights to give to the rightsholder for a time. Or perhaps more exactly, the public agrees with the rightsholder to refrain from exercising its rights for a time, in order to create an exclusive privilege by way of encouragement ot the author or inventor.

 

By the very nature of this statement, Timothy has put the artist and the public almost into an adversarial position — the artist has ‘gouged’ out his or her rights to her own work. I compare this with another quote that appeared in another of my comments from Gina Guiliano:

 

“Lord Thring asked me what I thought would be a fair and just copyright limit. I said a million years – that is, copyright in perpetuity. The answer seemed to outrage him; it quite plainly irritated him” (Mark Twain [1906], The Autobiography of Mark Twain).

 

 

The point that Mark Twain makes is that these so-called copyrights granted at the sufferance of the public to the artist should be the norm; it is then up to the individual artist to decide how their art is used, copied, re-sold, or innovated on. And if the artist is comfortable with the innovation, then the derivative work prospers; but if the artist is unhappy with the derivative work, then how can the derivative be anything more than a rape of the original artist’s creativity? A mocking of that which you seek to emulate and derive?

Much of this case surrounds Disney’s control of Mickey Mouse — Free the Mouse, goes the slogan. But to what purpose? If you use Mickey Mouse in a manner that generates consternation of the Disney corporation, and most likely would have caused consternation to the original artist, Disney, then what is the point? That you used the Mouse because you could use the Mouse? That you used the Mouse as a weapon against Disney? That you used the Mouse because you lacked the creativity on your own to create your own character?

What would be the point?

Also in my comments an anonymous poster brought up the famous playwright, Beckett, and how he wanted strict controls over how his plays were staged, a strictness that is still enforced by his estate. By denying certain modifications on his work, Beckett was considered to have somehow abrogated the innovators’ freedom of speech. But how? One would have to assume that the author of a play understands his or her work enough to know when a derivation is, to the author, harmful to the original intent of the play. Should the original author’s freedom of speech be subsumed as lessor to that of the innovator?

By what standard do we measure these things that he or she creates has less rights than she or he who copies and modifies?

In one particular instance, Beckett sued a production company that wanted to use all female characters for the play, “Waiting for Godot”. He said at the time:

 

Had I wished those characters to be female, I would have said so.

 

Is Beckett to be condemned because he created a finely crafted play, with many built in dependencies, of which one such is that the players are not all women? To him, to change the sex of the characters was to change the essence of his work — to abrogate his freedom of speech as expressed in his work.

I’ve heard people say that many times a work is necessary in order to prove a point, so one must use the work in order to exercise freedom of speech. For instance, one might recite a poem at a demonstration, or give the Gettysburg Address. But neither of these is a innovation as much as it is a recitation of the original work. And when it comes to writers at least, I know of few who would ever seek to stop a speech on a campus, or have a publication pulled because it recited some of their work in order to prove a point. Forget laws, and what is or is not allowed, I know of few writers who wouldn’t like to know that their work is inspiring enough to be used to prove a point. Unless…

Unless, the writing is pulled out of context, modified, and used to prove something that is abhorant to the writer. Then few would not fight to reclaim the true meaning of their words. To reclaim their freedom of speech.

Innovation does not mean “copy and manipulate until the end result no longer resembles the original”. It means “..the act of introducing something new”. Innovation should be based on inspiration, and should be an act of celebrating an original writing or piece of art or music because it so inspires a person that they take that which is given and work to create something new from the old; but something that is an inspiration, not an exact copy that one changes key items in order to get written up in the newspaper for the audacity of such change. Even I, a person who is not heavily involved in the arts, can tell the difference between true innovation, and cheap rip-offs.

I’m not going to debate this anymore, and I’m certainly not going to go head to head with the legal wannabes, quoting article and law. I know what I believe: that copyright is only meaningful when invoked; that many artists are flattered when their work is quoted or copied for inspiration, as long as the artists living isn’t threatened, and their own rights aren’t cast aside; that works of art are an expression of speech that must be given the same rights under the constitution as those who would seek to use this art for their own means.

I hold the copyright on these weblog postings, not because I think they are works of great writing, but because I don’t really care to have them copied elsewhere. The reason is that the postings are part of a package, which includes all the writings that surround each individual posting, the comments and the trackbacks, even the colors and the look of this weblog. All of it combines to say something that is unique to me. When everything but the writing on a particular post is stripped away, then I feel as if my words have been taken from me, and I’ve been shut out. I feel that my freedom of speech has been denied me, because my ‘speech’ is the weblog, itself, not just an individual piece of it.

But I encourage people to quote me, to pull sections of the writing into their own writings, to leave comments, to disagree, or agree, or even to tell me I’m full of it. I even give people the platform to tell me this, within my weblog. So how am I depriving the public domain of their freedom of speech because I want people to come here to read my posting in its entirety?

(Regardless, those times when entire postings have been copied, I’ve not complained — such is life on the Internet. I feel the same about my photos — as long as you don’t sell them, I’m not going to complain if you copy them. Probably will if you muck them up into something opposite of what they originally meant.)

Loren Webster writes, wonderfully, about stories and poems in his weblog, and wood s lot is famous for linking to incredible photos and articles and stories. Have they ever violated copyright law by doing so? Isn’t the question really, has anyone ever invoked copyright law on them in their actions? Would this stop them from writing?

I guess I don’t know. I don’t think so. Loren might not publish poems by one specific artist, if requested by that artist, but there are so many others to write about, either not covered by copyright, or open enough that they don’t invoke copyright. In fact, even if an artist’s poems were not covered by copyright, if the artist asked Loren not to write about their poems, I don’t think he would.

The irony of this is that Loren has covered To Kill a Mockingbird, a work banned in many schools because of the language used in the book. Where’s the freedom of speech in that?

(Loren, am I dragging you into something again? Should I pick on someone else for a while? I can pick on Jonathon, or AKMA, if you’d rather. blink blink.)

I do know that, to me, true freedom of speech has to do with speaking out against cruelty and against war; and speaking for tolerance and justice. I have the right to speak out against President Bush and Vice-President Cheney, as well as Attorney General Ashcroft, without the fear of going to prison. To me freedom of speech is fighting a war in Iraq I know in my soul will cost the lives of thousands.

You tell me how Mickey Mouse is going to make me more eloquent, or the words more imperative, and I guess I’ll become a believer. But in the meantime, I’ll just have to muddle along using my own thoughts, and my words, and my own speech, and with an occasional quote or two from my friends.

And you can quote me on that.

Categories
Critters

Kraken

Below the thunders of the upper deep;
Far, far beneath in the abysmal sea,
His ancient, dreamless, uninvaded sleep,
The Kraken sleepeth: faintest sunlights flee
Above his shadowy sides: above him swell
Huge sponges of millennial growth and height;
And far away into the sickly light,
From many a wondrous grot and secret cell
Unnumber’d and enormous polypi
Winnow with giant arms the slumbering green,
There hath he lain for ages and will lie
Battening upon huge seaworms in his sleep,
Until the latter fire shall heat the deep;
Then once by men and angels to be seen,
In roaring he shall rise and on the surface die.

Albert, Lord Tennyson “The Kraken”

 

Allan linked to an Australian story about a giant squid (Architeuthis Dux) supposedly attacking a French yacht taking part in the Jules Verne round-the-world sailing trophy race. I say supposedly not because I’m doubting the veracity of the sailors; but because I doubt that the squid was actually ‘attacking’ the yacht.

I’m not a marine biologist, and never once took a class in marine biology, but I’ve always been interested in monsters of the deep, including Architeuthis Dux — the giant squid. A few years back, I wrote a four-part series that included coverage of the giant squid, taking almost three months to research stories about the creatures on the internet; reading every book I could find on the subject.

giant squid diagram copied from http://seawifs.gsfc.nasa.gov/OCEAN_PLANET/HTML/squid_Architeuthis.htmlNo live giant squid has ever been captured or photographed, and there are only a few scattered eyewitness stories about the creatures. We do have specimens, found washed up on shore or pulled up in fishnets (though by the time they’re untangled from the nets, the bodies can be badly mangled).

The largest known giant squid specimen is over 18 meters (60 feet); eyewitness accounts have put them up to 30 meters (100 feet) in length. That’s the height of a ten-story building.

It’s eight arms are studded with suckers, each of which is ridged with a bony substance, making them as sharp as a serrated blade. Much of it’s length, though is in it’s feeding tentacles, which accounts for the giant squid’s low mass for its height. It’s eyes are the largest in the animal kingdom, as big as a dinner plate, and it rends its prey using sharp parrot-like beaks larger than your hands. Clack clack. Clack clack.

photo of squid suckers from http://seawifs.gsfc.nasa.gov/OCEAN_PLANET/IMAGES/squid_architeuthis_sucker2.gifThe 18 meter giant squid weighs over a ton, but lest you think this would make one prodigious plate of calamari, unlike its smaller brethren, the giant squid’s system is based on ammonium chloride rather than sodium chloride. It would taste similar to your floor cleaner. Without the lemony freshness.

The reason for this difference in chemical composition is that the giant squid’s territory is in the deepest parts of the ocean, between 900 meters (3000 feet) and 1800 meters (6000 feet) down. The ammonium chloride helps the giant squid survive both the pressure and the cold of these depths.

Because scientists have never observed living specimens of a giant squid, their behavior is based on extrapolating known behavior of smaller squid. From this, we know the giant squid is a predator, and an intelligent one, being the most intelligent of the cephalopods (marine mollusks also including the cuttlefish and octopus). It can be relatively aggressive, though will usually run away when threatened, as most intelligent creatures do (which excludes Alpha Males, who stand and take it Like a Man).

Architeuthis Dux only known enemy is deep diving toothed whales such as a sperm whale. Though of the same length as the whale, it’s only about 1/60th of its size, and nowhere near as aggressive.

So, after hearing all this, what’s with the stories about giant squid attacking ships? Well, to answer that I have to mix equal parts fact and conjecture.

(See that’s the great thing about not being an expert on something: you can indulge in all of the conjecture you want with nary a concern about having anything like facts to back you up.)

The atmosphere at the surface of the water would be hellish for a giant squid, so they don’t come up voluntarily. Most of the instances in which bodies have been found have been in fishnets. However, occasionally, the cold water in which the giant squid lives can be trapped above warm water from deep underwater currents, which forces the cold water and its trapped squid to the surface. Since the giant squid is naturally buoyant, it can’t return to the depths on its own.

This explains how the giant squid is found on the surface of the water. But what about the ships? Well, now, that’s where the conjecture enters.

Jules Verne based his monster in 20000 Leagues Under the Seas on a story that circulated in his day, about a giant squid attacking a French battleship. And there have been other fairly well known cases of ships ‘attacked’ by giant squid, including a US submarine. Conjecture has been that the giant squid is attacking the ships for food, but this makes no sense at all. One reason is that the giant squid would be completely out of its territory, and in considerable confusion and agony. It would not be interested in food at the moment, but in escaping this horrible place it found itself.

Additionally, ships closely resemble toothed whales, a known predator of giant squids. A giant squid would never attack a toothed whale for food. In fact its that latter “ships resembling whales” that leads to my own particular conjecture about why giant squids ‘attack’ ships.

Consider the poor squid — cast adrift in an alien environment, prevented by its natural buoyancy from returning to the depths. Through the painful glare of the surface light, it ‘see’s a whale. It may know that whales are an enemy, but it also knows (remember, they are quite intelligent) that whales are from its own environment. Personally, I’ve always felt that the giant squids aren’t attacking the ships as much as they are wrapping themselves around the ships in the faint hope that the ‘whale’ will at least return it to the depths.

Take me hommmmme, blubber boy!

A variation of this conjecture, and one that doesn’t grab at your hearts as much but is much more likely, is that the squid is propelled into the upper atmosphere in about the same location as the boat, and, thinking it’s a whale, the giant squid adopts its usual defense mechanism of wrapping its tentacles around the ‘whale’, using the only weapons it has for defense — it’s suckers and beak.

Of course, poor thing has no chance, and will eventually perish in this horrid environment, under the terrible strain of the light pressure, in water that is far too warm, and in unbreathable air that is far, far too bright. And even its enemy, it’s friendly, sane, known enemy, betrays it ultimately when it turns out to be cold, and lifeless, and crawling with some kind of weird vermin.

(Read more about the giant squid. See movie of smaller squids.)

Categories
Just Shelley

Creaky body update

Today the sun is out, and a morning dove just landed on my office window sill, giving my cat Zoe the thrill of her life. The dove coo’d and Zoe did her little meow-clack-meow-clack sound she makes when she spots Prey. This didn’t worry the dove terribly because even doves are smart enough to know that there’s a barrier between her and the Predator.

The amazing bird tree across the road is just filled with a variety of bird life today — mockingbirds, cardinals, chickadees, doves, you name it. I don’t know what it is about this tree that collects all the birds from the neighborhood. I do know if the apartment ever made moves to cut it down, I would chain myself to it.

Speaking of chains, pretty much desk and bed bound at this point in time. My back has worsened, to the point of waking me up at night. However, one thing in my favor is that Advil works especially well with me…and there’s always my margaritas at night. For medicinal purposes, of course.

Yes, as soon as I get my next advance, I am going to the doctor. I hear you all making this suggestion with a certain amount of exasperation in your voices.

But, oh, this day was made for hiking…

Categories
People

Woof

Hey! The thinking person’s chew toy has been getting all sorts of public strokes lately.

First, there’s a new gig at MSNBC. And today, he’s profiled in the New York Times:

 

I like to think of myself as a Renaissance dweeb,” Mr. Reynolds said.

(thanks to Dave W for links.)

Categories
Legal, Laws, and Regs

Outweigh the rights of the many

Recovered from the Wayback Machine.

I wrote and subsequently pulled a posting yesterday, about the Eldred vs. Ashcroft decision. I pulled the post because I wasn’t sure if I wanted to deal with the consequences of my writing. I knew that I was not following the ‘popular’ weblogging path in my post.

However, I believe in what I wrote so I’ve re-posted it and plan on continuing the theme it started in this post. Damn the pundits, full speed ahead.

I asked in the post the question: Do the rights of the public domain exceed the rights of the author to have control over their own acts of creation? Lately, all I’ve heard is voices in defense of the commons, but what about the artist?

Aaron Swartz created a set of Tips for Book Authors having to do with how we, since I am a book author, release our works into the public domain. In the introduction to these tips he wrote:

 

The article also hints at another, more insidious kind of copyright “theft” or “piracy”: that of copyright holders who hold onto their copyrights after the author has recouped their costs. Copyright only exists to provide an incentive to authors; once they’ve done the work and recouped their cost (and possibly the cost of their next project), they should donate their work to the public domain.

Since when is an artist obligated to give their works to the public? Is this same requirement demanded of all people? Exactly when did we lose our sense of perspective when it comes to both copyright and the importance of the ‘public good’.

Rogers Cadenhead, another author, responded to Aaron with:

 

As a computer book author, I applaud Swartz for applying the terms “theft” and “piracy” to the practice of keeping book copyrights, thus ensuring that no rational discussion of his idea can possibly take place.

 

Rogers also goes on to say that if we only re-couped our costs, there would be no incentive to give up so much of our lives in order to write the books that Aaron wants us to so easily give away.

As Jonathon Delacour writes:

 

This utopian idea that authors should write for love, not money, probably reflects the majority belief that writing a book is no more difficult than baking a cake. Yet I’m reminded of a New Yorker cartoon showing two people at a cocktail party. One says, “I’m writing a novel.” The other replies, “Neither am I.”

 

If only it were as easy as baking a cake. I spent yesterday working on one section of one chapter of Practical RDF. Just one section, trying to ensure that I captured the nuances of the technology clearly, and with representative examples. One day to write the number of words you see in this post, and the last.

In the comments over at Roger’s, I wrote:

 

I’ve authored or co-authored 13 books, all related to computer technology of some form or another. None of them would live past the old copyright period much less the new timespan, because technology tends to date as soon as a book hits the streets.

As other authors in this thread can attest, computer book authors rarely make large amounts of money. Seldom can we give up our day jobs in order to write fulltime. When Aaron states that we should be restricted to only re-couping the cost of writing a book, I have to laugh; with my current effort for O’Reilly, I’d be glad if this did happen, because it’s taken well over a year to write this book.

Personal efforts aside, what people seem to forget is the larger question — when does the rights of the ‘public domain’ supercede the rights of the individual? I’m not talking about publishers or corporations — I’m talking about the artist. A book or a piece of music or painting are works of creativity that took not only effort, but time, considerable time, on the part of the artist. To say that the creator of the work has so many rights to their effort, and no more, because the will of the ‘people’ must be satisfied, is just another variation of mob rule. When are the rights of the individual respected over that of this faceless, nameless, and soul-less public domain?

Aaron has all these ideas, but he’s never published a book. He’s never had to put the amount of time and effort into writing several hundred pages, go through the editing, or listen to reviewers cutting it to shreds. He’s never paid the price necessary for him to blithley write out ‘Tips for Authors’, and telling us how much we’re entitled to for our efforts.

Cory Doctorow did an incredible thing, publishing his book online. I respect him for it. But this wouldn’t work for computer books, because chances are, free online versions of the book would cut into the sales. And these books have a short earning life span, as it is.

And I have to ask — why should we put these books online for free? I’m not denying people access to the information. They have access to much of the same information online I do, but my books help them access the information more easily. However, not having my book online won’t deny people access to the information. As for electronic forms of the book on CD, did this with Que and Sams books, and next thing we knew, they were online all over the place.

What’s worse in all of this is to be accused of being a ‘thief’ because I choose _not_ to put my work into the public domain immediately, or maybe not at all until the copyright ends. But you know, that’s my choice. Why is there this almost mob-like mentality, carrying aloft words like ‘theft’ and ‘piracy’ rather than torches, ready to condemn if one doesn’t immediately turn all of our creativity over to the ‘public domain’. Where is the good in this? To me, this is just as bad, perhaps even worse, then over-extending copyright or patent priviledges. I would rather see Disney hold on to its copyright of the Mouse, than to see artists forced to give up their creations for some ‘common good’.

 

Perhaps I should change my tag line to read: Pirating from the Public Domain since 2001.And ya know something? I plan on continuing my ‘pirating’ into the future.

Arrr!