copyright

How is a three strikes proposal supposed to work for mobile data?

Honestly, I still have trouble convincing myself that the push by the record industry to implement a three-strikes-and-you’re-out (that is, three-accusations-and-you’re-kicked-offline-for-a-year) system is actually happening, that grown men and women running companies claim—with a straight face—that this will save failing business models. It’s just so ridiculous. But the IFPI’s recent claims that it can surgically remove one person from the Internet without affecting the rest of a household have got me thinking about mobile data. Cellular providers are becoming Internet Service Providers. Would three accusations of unauthorized file sharing cut you off from mobile data too? What’s to stop someone from getting a 3G USB stick to connect to the Internet? Either the record industry is that much more ridiculous and they’re also taking on mobile carriers, or there’s another giant loophole in an already insane plan.

Copyright Infringement and the Theft Metaphor

I’ve got a new post up at Roots Music Canada, why copyright infringement isn’t theft, which draws on William Patry’s book, Moral Panics and the Copyright Wars, to explain that theft is a poor metaphor for copyright infringement.

Canadian law professor Stephen Waddams, in a well-regarded book about how we think about law, wrote that when a dispute arises about intangibles, such as copyrighted works, information, or… time,
“[T]he claimant is always eager to categorize the claim as proprietary. Thus, the conduct of the defendant is apt to be described by claimants as piracy, highway robbery, and brazen theft. This is rhetoric: the taking of a photograph, the re-broadcasting of television signals, the use of confidential information, or the copying of a design cannot, in fact or law, be piracy, robbery (on or off the highway), or theft, and if it were any of these things, the rhetoric would be unnecessary…

[...] Describing someone as a thief or trespasser is a metaphoric step in gaining property rights, and not the result of having a property right in the first place. If one already had a property right, the property owner would sue for violation of that right and would not have to strut around… blaring loudly about “piracy.”

[...]

Copyright owners [describe] their right as “intellectual property.” The purpose of advocating something as a property right is to take it outside of the need for any empirical, social justification. As a property right we do not ask about incentives, and we do not ask whether the property interest benefits the public. Property simply is and need not be justified. Those who own property rights are entitled to hunt down unauthorized users as free-riders, as criminals, as a threat to polite society just as surely as who break into our homes and steal our cars.

Copyright law isn’t about theft and clearly fenced-off property. It’s a set of social relationships between creators and the public, granting creators certain exclusive rights, for a limited time, for the benefit of everyone. Abusing the theft metaphor shifts the focus away from the fundamentals of copyright, making it difficult to have any sort of meaningful or fruitful discussion about copyright.

I think it’s possible to present an informed and intellectually honest case for stricter copyright laws, but table-thumping about how copying is stealing is neither of those things.

The post was in response to table-thumping by some members of the community that, “there’s no grey area, it’s theft,” and that “it is now completely possible for ISPs to identify and eliminate illegal file sharing.” It could be interesting if those folks show up in the comments

Taking a Free Culture Approach to Music

This post originally appeared on Roots Music Canada.

When I tell someone that all of my recordings are downloadable for free, I’m often asked, “but… how will you make money?

“Well,” I’ll respond, “since it doesn’t cost me anything, I may as well let people share and listen to my music so that they might connect with it and become interested in the associated scarcities—physical goods, the creation of new music, authenticity, personalization, live performances, etc… It makes more sense to charge for the scarce things than for the abundant. People need to hear and like music before they’re willing to buy, so I want people to download it.”

“Okay,” a musician might respond, “and you still have royalties and licensing.”

The fun begins: “Er… no, actually, my music is available royalty-free, even for commercial use.”

“Huh?”

“Yep,” I’ll continue. “There are only two requirements: attribution, and that derivative works remain under the same licence. Otherwise, people are free to do what they want.”

At this point, the person I’m talking to is either incredibly curious, or convinced that I’m certifiably insane.

Why on earth would I do this?

Copyright Conundrum

Copyright is supposed to provide an incentive for authors to create because we, as a society, see a benefit in more works being created. However, it’s been radically expanded in both depth and breadth. Unlike the original 14-year terms, copyright now extends well beyond the author’s death; works used to enter the public domain within a few decades, but now it takes a few generations. Also, it used to be that copyright only regulated large corporations—you needed a printing press or a broadcast tower to trigger the law—but now it affects the everyday activities of anyone with a computer.

It’s become an astonishingly unprecedented restriction on our culture. Can you imagine if Shakespeare had to negotiate licensing agreements for each of the stories he repurposed? Yet, some seek to criminalize sharing and we must hire lawyers to get permission just to build on the culture around us. We must pay [PDF] for the privilege of dancing to copyrighted music. James Boyle, author of The Public Domain, said that “we are the first generation to deny our own culture to ourselves.” Society has become too focused on the unnatural notion of “intellectual property.”

20th-century culture was largely passive and read-only—a broadcast culture. But it’s wonderful and natural that we seek to reinterpret and build upon the culture we find around us, and it’s exciting that digital technology makes it easier. Creation is a fundamentally social act—not a solitary one—and its social dimension is something to be celebrated; it’s a beautiful expression of our humanity. I embrace an active culture with which we all have the freedom to engage… but current copyright law makes that illegal. James Boyle also points out that “no work created during your lifetime will, without conscious action by its creator, become available for you to build upon.”

As a creator, I’ve taken that conscious action to set my work free.

Free Culture

I use a Creative Commons (CC) Attribution-Share Alike (BY-SA) licence for all of my music and writing (including this post). CC BY-SA is a free licence—not free as in price, but free as in freedom. A free culture is the opposite of a permission culture: anyone has the freedom to use, share, remix, cover, rewrite or adapt my music.

Now, “remix” can be a funny word for songwriters. For some, the immediate word association is “techno,” but derivative works can include music videos, films, new songs, covers, as well as recordings that are “remixed” in the strict technical sense. I can also take freely licensed photos from Flickr to use as artwork for my songs. “Free culture” isn’t about quirky viral videos and the responses they inspire, but the broad spectrum of possibilities when freedom and collaboration can scale. Using a free licence opens up new potential for creating art and connecting with fans by removing the legal barriers to artistic freedom and widespread collaboration.

Commercial Use

Free licences allow commercial use: my music can be sold—by me, or anyone else—and I’ve waived the right to collect royalties. This was by far the biggest hurdle.

Most CC licences aren’t free. I initially used a Noncommercial (NC) licence with my band back in 2005—that seemed like a no-brainer at the time—but I later became convinced of the problems with NC restrictions. For example, NC restrictions limit derivative works to the realm of the hobbyist; once money enters the equation, NC licences still present a permission culture (hence their non-free status). Plus, NC restrictions rule out many basic uses you might want to allow: a blog with ads or a non-profit fundraiser could both qualify as commercial, and a remix of your own NC music by someone else is off-limits to you commercially. NC restrictions don’t allow a free culture to flourish… but, they do leave the door open for music licensing opportunities.

Giving up the prospect of royalties and licensing was hard. Ultimately, I decided that free culture and new media were more important for me. Copyright restrictions apply to bloggers and webcasters as well as radio stations, and SOCAN collects from large corporate radio, but also from kids’ gymnastic clubs and buskers. I’d rather focus on free culture and the Internet as a passion and competitive edge than be confined by a read-only, broadcast-based permission model. Royalties make as much sense on the Internet as they would in a conversation; it’s not broadcast, it’s a communications medium. I’ve decided to go the free culture route with the Internet in mind, even if it means no royalties from traditional mediums.

Exploitation

CC BY-SA is a “copyleft” licence—meaning, all rights reversed; it imposes a copyright restriction against restricting people: all derivative works must be released under the same licence. Someone is free to include my music in a video and sell it, but the derivative work must also be BY-SA, so I’d be able to profit from the derivative in the same way that people can profit from my original. It’s mutually beneficial. (If someone wanted to use my work without “sharing alike,” e.g. a TV show, with many other rights holders involved, that’s one case where traditional licensing is still an option.)

In terms of someone else just selling my stuff (e.g. CDs with my music), I’ve come to view that as an opportunity rather than a liability. If Sony wanted to distribute my music, with no cost or contract on my part… who am I to complain? They’d be helping me. CC BY-SA filmmaker, Nina Paley, argues that when others make money off your content, it’s free market research. “If any [competitors] do exceptionally well, I’ll know what merch I should be selling,” she says. Paley uses the Creator-Endorsed Mark to signal to consumers which distributors are actually sharing profits with her. Brad Sucks, a Canadian BY-SA musician, has also found ways to profit while allowing commercial use.

If you’re focused on innovating and monetizing real scarcities, allowing commercial use simply presents new opportunities.

Moving Forward

Licensing my music freely was a huge decision, and I’ve only scratched the surface of my reasoning here. I may have closed many doors, but I’m excited about the doors I’ve opened. This approach isn’t going to work for everyone, but with artists like Nina Paley and Brad Sucks paving the way, I’m committed to exploring how it can work for my music.

Read the comments on Roots Music Canada

SOCAN Tries To Keep Its Copyright Consultation Submission Offline And Secret, But Fails

This post originally appeared on Techdirt.

We were just talking about how SOCAN, the Canadian copyright collection society, was going after gymnastics clubs for kids using music in their practice routines. Now they’re getting some well-deserved attention for other antics. Michael Geist explains how SOCAN tried to keep its submission to the government copyright consultation secret. The organization apparently requested that its submission not be posted online, even though that was part of the consultation process. The government made it available anyways, but only by email upon request. Of course, it’s now available online elsewhere [PDF].

SOCAN’s recommendations aren’t surprising. They call for a making available right (article 22 of the submission), a broadening of the private copying levy (article 30), anti-circumvention provisions (55-56), notice-and-takedown (59), copyright term extension (60), and no further exceptions to copyright (34, 48). But rather than outright declaring war on consumers, they copy the language (poorly) of those seeking more effective copyright reform. For example, they claim that the “rights of users and creators” are already “balanced” because “the Copyright Board of Canada provides a fair mechanism to set the royalty” (45) — someone had better tell the gymnastic clubs! Another great example: They want to expand the private copying tax levy to digital audio players so that it’s “technologically neutral.” (11) No word on when they’ll want it to apply to hard drives in general. SOCAN also repeats the ridiculous argument from the Toronto copyright townhall that “unwarranted” fair dealing provisions would mean asking creators to “work for nothing:”

Copyright amendments must not set up unwarranted exemptions, or otherwise limit the copyright royalties paid… If you deprive SOCAN’s members of copyright royalties, you are basically asking over 35,000 Canadian individuals to take risks and work for nothing. That’s not realistic, and it’s not fair. (34-35)

It’s just laughable to suggest that more flexible fair dealing (i.e., something like the American concept of fair use) would mean artists not getting paid. Do artists “work for nothing” in the U.S.? Though, it should be no surprise from an organization that claims that, if you use a Creative Commons license, you “won’t get paid” and your work may become devalued. To a collection society, getting paid can only mean royalties, and the value of music can only mean… well, royalties.

Best of all, they seem nervous about Industry Minister Tony Clement, who’s given some indication that he wants to craft forward thinking policies. SOCAN recommends that the Standing Committee on Canadian Heritage have sole responsibility for copyright reform (article 66). The Heritage committee is involved in the process, but as Geist points out, this recommendation betrays some discomfort with Clement and the Industry Committee, since the Copyright Act clearly grants the Minister of Industry responsibility for copyright. So, first, we get a laundry list of maximalist demands using the language of “balanced” copyright reform, then a suggestion to ignore the Copyright Act and exclude the ministry they’re not comfortable with (you know, the one focusing on the economic concerns) from having any responsibility in reform? No wonder they wanted to keep the submission secret.

Read the comments on Techdirt.

Is There A Better Word Than “Balance” In The Copyright Debate?

Mike Masnick questions the word “balance” in the copyright debate:

I’ve long thought that balance is the wrong way to look at it. The purpose of copyright law is to incentivize the creation of new content, and thus the standard on which copyright law should be judged is one where the [benefits of the] creation of content is maximized. As such, there shouldn’t be a question of balance, because the ideal situation where content is maximized should make everyone better off. Talking about balance is figuring out how both sides should compromise to meet in the middle. Talking about maximizing content creation, on the other hand, is talking about ways to improve the marketplace of options for everyone.

He links to a paper by Abraham Drassinower of the U of T Law School arguing that balance is the wrong way to view copyright policy. “Balance” as a concept in copyright suggests that the law is designed to reward a content creator for their labour (the “sweat of the brow” argument), Drassinower argues, though Masnick has to tease out the main point: “Balance” falsely implies that this is a zero sum game, when “the goal of copyright should be maximizing the [benefits of the] creation of content overall, such that everyone is better off.

I’m sold. I tried to use this point at the Toronto Copyright Townhall and in my submission to the consultation.

But, if not balance, then what?

Words like “balance” are used often to make sure that the interests of the public aren’t forgotten in the face of copyright holders’ interests. I strongly support the group, Fair Copyright for Canada, but “fair” has similar problems to “balance.” What words might serve to include the public interest without suggesting a zero sum game? Mike described it as “maximizing [the benefits of] content creation,” but that seems more useful in explanation than at the sound bite stage.

What about “calibrate?” I notice that Mike used the word in a subsequent post on why morality isn’t relevant in copyright: “A properly calibrated system is one where there’s the greatest overall economic good and everyone has the greatest opportunity to benefit” (strongly related — if it’s an economic question rather than a moral one, rights holders interests are not necessarily opposed to the public interest). “Calibrate” seems like the most accurate word. It doesn’t directly conjure up the notion of the public interest, but it does so indirectly by suggesting an approach that’s about more than “protection.” But it’s too technical for a mainstream audience.

Is there a more accessible synonym for “calibrate?” Optimize? It works, but “optimizing copyright law” seems a bit too vague, and doesn’t really capture the non-zero sum game and the public interest. Thesaurus.com doesn’t help much either.

So what else? I’m not sure. I like “calibrate,” but it won’t work with all audiences. “Optimize” is nice to use in passing to reinforce the point, but it doesn’t introduce it. “Balance” and “fair” are still useful for drawing attention to the interests beyond that of rights holders, but I won’t offer those terms without a caveat or disclaimer.

Other suggestions?

Copyright Consultation Submission

I submitted the following to the Canadian Copyright Consultation, a little hastily as midnight approached on the initial deadline. It’s built off the same notes I used to speak from at the townhall.


Copyright matters to me for a variety of reasons. I’m a musician, writer and programming. I was recently a student at the University of Toronto. I’m a consumer, a computer user. In my work and leisure I interact with the Copyright Act in hundreds of ways each day.

Copyright is a set of social relationships, an incentive that the government provides to creators on behalf of the public, for the benefit of all (including creators). Talk about balance can be misleading, if we consider it a zero sum game. In reality, with the right approach to copyright law, everyone should be better off (like any good economic transaction) — creators for having tools available which they can use to earn an income, the public for having more works created.

Copyright isn’t inherently good. It’s not simply, “the more copyright, the better.” The right approach to copyright depends on keeping these broader goals and interests in mind.

Some specific suggestions:

1. Abolish Crown Copyright.

The government doesn’t need to hold copyright on the works it creates. The government already has an incentive to create those works. It’s called an election.

2. Don’t extend copyright any further.

Copyright term should not be extended. There are already legitimate questions as to whether it is too long in many respects now. That’s a discussion and debate for another time. For now, we should commit to not extending it any further.

3. Flexible fair dealing.

Simply adding the words “such as” to the Copyright Act, making the categories of fair dealing non-exhaustive, would be a huge step forward. The Supreme Court has already ruled that fair dealing should be interpreted broadly, and this would allow for things like parody or satire under fair dealing, making the law in tune with how many creators operate in this country already.

4. Technology Neutral Approach.

Don’t ban specific tools or technologies. I use peer-to-peer file sharing technologies to access and distribute materials — both music and software — released under free licences, like the GNU GPL or the Creative Commons Attribution Share-Alike licence. There are artists and creators who use these technologies to legitimately distribute their works and reach a wider audience (even the CBC has distributed content through BitTorrent). If the record and movie industry had their way, technologies like the VCR would illegal. Clearly, these technologies can prove to be useful to both creators and the public over time, and can create new business opportunities as well.

Any changes to copyright law should focus on the act of infringement, rather than banning tools which may or may not be used to infringe copyright.

5. Any anti-circumvention laws should be tied to actual infringement.

There are plenty of problems with anti-circumvention laws, but if we are going to introduce them in Canada, they must be tied to actual infringement of copyright. Breaking a digital lock for an activity that would otherwise not be considered an infringement of copyright should not be an infringement of copyright. I need to break digital locks to access materials all the time. For example, I’m a GNU/Linux user, and I need to circumvent the digital lock inherent in the DVD format just to watch a movie on my computer.

Don’t ban circumvention tools — there are plenty of legitimate uses, and plenty of uses for them within the realm of fair dealing. Any anti-circumvention restrictions should be tied explicitly to acts of infringement.

6. Don’t implement an ISP levy.

I’m a member of the Songwriters Association of Canada. They do great work for Canadian songwriters. But don’t implement their proposal to “monetize file sharing.” It’s untenable and undesirable on a variety of levels: what if someone doesn’t download unauthorized content? what about movies, poetry, newspapers, and other content that’s shared online? how would money be distributed fairly (the internet is much different than radio, with a long tail of artists producing content)?

Plus, artists are already monetizing file sharing. Artists and companies are doing it right now. Canadian songwriter and musician Brad Turcotte, for example, uses the promotion he gets through Frostwire (a peer-to-peer file sharing application) to connect with fans, grow his audience so that he can book shows and sell merchandise.

Also, why would we increase the cost of connecting to the internet in a country that already suffers from limited broadband competition, and when broadband penetration is another important technological concern?

7. Don’t extend the levy to digital audio players.

Many creator groups have called for the levy to be extended to digital audio players. That would be a huge mistake, and it would be in direct contradiction to “withstanding the test of time.”

For example, the proposed levy on digital audio players in 2002 was $21/GB. That would make a levy on an 120 GB iPod today $2520! Certainly, the Canadian Private Copying Collective could lower the cost over time, but that would likely be in reaction to an increased absurdity. Adding a levy on digital audio players would discourage investment in that sort of technology in Canada, and inhibit the ability of Canadian creators to offer new business models (if it’s less affordable for Canadian consumers to acquire digital audio players, how are Canadian artists supposed to implement digital business models?).

Also, the digital audio player space is rapidly converging with other areas of computing. With Android devices and iPhones, the distinction between digital audio players and cell phones is quickly becoming a thing of the past, and netbooks and tablet computers are rapidly blurring the lines between mobile and laptop computing. To imposed a levy on “digital audio players” — whatever that will include 5 years from now — would be extremely short-sighted from the perspective of encouraging innovation and investment in new technologies in Canada, and all the new business opportunities which can be had from their widespread adoption.

8. Don’t legislate business models.

On that note, as a broader point, the Copyright Act should not legislate specific business models. Copyright can provide tools for creators to build a business model on, but, for example, in the area of music, much success in the digital environment has been had by ignoring rights granted by copyright (e.g. letting fans distribute music or remix it), rather than following the route copyright law would suggest (e.g. excluding others from those rights).

In order to foster innovation and creativity, the Copyright Act must not stand as a barrier to new ways of doing business and to new business models in the digital era. We don’t yet know what sort of system will support artists going forward. Rather than trying to build one into the law, the law should enabled creators and entrepreneurs to experiment with new business models suited for a digital environment — whether that means providing tools, or simply getting out of the way. A copyright law that is too prescriptive, with too many restrictions and too many assumptions about a particular business model (e.g. selling copies) runs the risk of impeding innovative business models that may take a different approach.

Toronto Copyright Townhall: Canadian Record Industry Mobilizes In Panic, Everyone Loses Out

This post originally appeared on Techdirt.

Last Thursday, I attended the Canadian Copyright Consultation Toronto Town Hall (video). Despite the stated intention of soliciting a “breadth of perspectives,” the record industry dominated the event. Michael Geist described it as the “Toronto Music Industry Town Hall” and a local publication called it the “town hall that didn’t invite the town”. Tickets were limited and speakers chosen by lottery, yet half the speakers were from the entertainment industry — collection societies, record labels, industry lawyers. Twice as many industry representatives spoke as artists or creators. There was the odd librarian, student or programmer (and I had a chance to speak), but otherwise the participants seemed so skewed towards the same perspective that one person greeted the audience, “hello, music industry,” and some non-industry (though admittedly not very eloquent) speakers were heckled towards the end. When asked afterwards about the strong music industry presence, the Minister who ran the town hall joked, “I guess they had the night off.” There are lots of questions about the sincerity and efficacy of the consultations (though, also some indication that the government might take the time to try and get things right), but what was most disappointing, albeit least surprising, was what the entertainment industry actually had to say.

Most industry speakers presented emotional pleas, with little in the way of serious suggestions. They focused on a “right to get paid” and “fair compensation” (without talk of providing a reason to buy), while Canada was portrayed as a “lawless society,” rampant with property “theft” and hostile to “legitimate” business (despite evidence to the contrary). A writer stunningly declared that “[more flexible] fair dealing would be a disaster for creators,” while SOCAN claimed that adding “unwarranted” fair dealing provisions would be asking creators “work for nothing” (even though flexible fair dealing would be a lot like fair use in the US — hardly a disaster). The President of Warner Music Canada talked about disappearing jobs, and many industry employees painted a dire picture of colleagues and artists struggling to make ends meet (with little mention of any success stories). Yet, when the occasional concrete recommendation was made, it was to implement a notice-and-takedown system (ripe for abuse), extend the “you must be a criminal” tax blank media levy to digital audio players (an idea that’s been struck down twice), or enshrine an inducement doctrine into law — extreme measures which have provided little solace to failing businesses elsewhere.

It wasn’t argument. It was the language of moral panics.

The Canadian record industry was demanding to be lied to, to be told that more restrictive copyright laws will save their business. Though fewer and fewer people can convincingly tell the lie, they seemed perfectly capable of convincing each other that restrictive copyright legislation might somehow stop the market from changing (even with a decade of hindsight on the DMCA). It’s tragic, because hard working people who love music and love working for artists are losing their jobs, but the industry continues to block the sort of innovations that could provide it with a way forward. A lawyer described the music industry as a “copyright industry,” even though most artists and companies who are figuring out how to make money in the digital economy are successful despite copyright — not because of it.

Artist voices were few (nevermind consumer voices), which is disappointing because many Canadian creator groups are adopting more forward thinking approaches, proposing solutions that don’t involve criminalizing common consumer behaviour. Now… most creators echoed the industry in supporting the levy and its expansion to digital audio players and even ISPs, and some asked for new royalties and more collective licensing, but that’s much better than demanding stricter laws and enforcement mechanisms. The problem remains though, that although collective licensing may be a move in the right direction, short-term revenue from additional royalties and levies also increases barriers to innovation, making it harder for new sustainable long-term business models to emerge. Artists and creators need to find a way to earn money that’s based on a solid economic ground, instead of depending on levies that can quickly become absurd. That’s where the record industry should be able to help them out.

Artists and creators need to be able to experiment with new business models, but the copyright crutch gets in the way. They turn to levies and licensing because they can’t imagine how else to make money, but successes have been outside of the copyright system. Canada needs innovative companies to help artists and creators find digital business models, not to chase fictive legislative solutions. If the Canadian record industry isn’t willing to help creators with what’s next, they need to clear out of the way.

Read the comments on Techdirt.

My Comments at the Copyright Consultation Toronto Town Hall

Thursday night, I had a chance to speak at the government’s Copyright Consultation Toronto Townhall. I’ll post more detailed thoughts shortly, but in the meantime, Nick Dynice was kind enough to upload a video of my comments to YouTube.

I wasn’t expecting a chance to speak and hadn’t prepared much, but my name came up in the lottery in the last half hour or so. I’m not particularly happy with how I spoke — some parts felt awkward, and I had to cut other points due to time — but I’m glad could provide a different perspective compared to the ~80% of speakers who were folks from the music industry arguing for some combination of locks, levies and legislative responses to their business model problems.

Yusuf Islam Forgives Coldplay For Copying His Song, Even Though They Probably Didn’t

This post originally appeared on Techdirt

When Joe Satriani sued Coldplay for copyright infringment last December, lots of people were quick to notice that a bunch of other songs shared the same melody, including some predating Satriani’s tune. Last month, Yusuf Islam (formerly known as Cat Stevens) made headlines claiming that Coldplay had “stolen” the melody from him, not Satriani. Islam’s 1973 song was one of many that people had noticed which sounded similar, but Islam was sure Coldplay got the melody from him (“if you listen to it, it’s mine!”) and said he’d decide whether or not to take legal action “depending on how well Satriani does.” Now, Islam is talking about it again, this time saying he’s not angry with Coldplay:

I stand by what I said. They did copy my song but I don’t think they did it on purpose. I can understand why they got so upset because they probably don’t even realise they have done it. It happens all the time. I have even copied myself without knowing I have done it. I’ll write down what I think is a new melody and then listen back to it and realise it’s the same as something I have already done. It’s just one of those things and I don’t want them to think I’m angry with them. I’d love to sit down and have a cup of tea with them and let them know it’s ok.

That’s a step up from Satriani’s “dagger through my heart” response, especially if he’s suggesting the cup of tea instead of a lawsuit (though, TwentyFourBit notes that the Flaming Lips would be annoyed if Coldplay gets a tea settlement while they got a royalty split). But it’s still odd that Islam is so convinced that the melody is his. What about all the other songs with the same melody? Islam doesn’t even entertain the possibility that no copying took place, that it’s just a natural melody to sing over those chords. He’s forgiving them for something they deny having done, and, although upset initially, Chris Martin actually said the claims are inspiration to write better songs. It’s nice to see Islam recognize that this sort of thing “happens all the time” and that “it’s ok” — and hopefully that means he’s given up on a lawsuit — but he fails to admit even the possibility that Coldplay came up with the melody on their own. Regardless, this can’t be helping Satriani’s case.

Read the comments on Techdirt.

ASCAP Thinks That Video Game Providers Should Pay Music Performance Royalties

This post originally appeared on Techdirt.

Despite claiming to represent the interests of songwriters and composers, ASCAP has consistently provided bad advice on how they should respond to digital technology and the internet. For ASCAP and many other collection societies, anything that doesn’t involve royalties seems automatically bad (despite all the success from artists who’ve been freeing up their content), and other questionable practices raise serious doubts over how royalty money is handled once collected. Now, ASCAP wants to increase the toll on video games and is encouraging video game music composers to reserve performance rights (via Michael Scott). Typically, game developers purchase rights (including performance rights) from music composers, but ASCAP’s Director of Legal Affairs, Christine Pepe, argues that the practice no longer makes sense. She suggests adopting the model that was developed for film and television, where composers and songwriters often negotiate contractual provisions for performance royalties.

Not surprisingly, there are some major problems with the article.

First of all, Pepe cites Rock Band, Guitar Hero, Dance Dance Revolution and Stubbs the Zombie to highlight the prominence of music in video games nowadays. These are all cases of popular songs being used in games, rather than music being written for games… yet she’s presumably addressing people who write music for video games. Early versions of Guitar Hero used covers to make licensing easier, so composers weren’t even part of the negotiation. This licensing is about synchronization or mechanical rights — not performance rights. Labels have complained that these games aren’t paying enough for the music, but it’s the games that increase the value (and sales) of the music, not the other way around. These games could simply choose other good music and still be popular. ASCAP clearly doesn’t understand that, while music can add value to games, games add value to music. Pepe says that older video game music is “probably difficult to imagine… in a context other than the games themselves.” She isn’t trying very hard to use her imagination, as there are plenty of examples of older video game music having a life outside of the games. Would anyone care about the Mario theme if it weren’t part of the game? The lesson from old video game music isn’t that performance royalties used to be negligible. It’s that success for a video game music composer isn’t just about writing good music, but about having that music associated with successful games.

Second, Pepe’s argument that there’s a public performance of music in video games seems like a real stretch:

Now, because video games are being delivered by entities other than developers and on transmission-based platforms such as the Internet, there is no reason that composers of music for video games should sign away their rights. Take for instance, X-Box — it is now fully integrated with the Internet and allows users to stream games (instead of just purchase the physical product in the store). Internet-based services that now offer streaming of video games are causing the music contained in such games to be publicly performed. The providers of these video game services typically have or should have a license from ASCAP (and possibly other public performance right organizations). [emphasis mine]

What does “streaming” a video game even mean? A video game is interactive; it’s not a one-way broadcast, but communication over a network. Is Pepe suggesting that there’s a public performance simply because software communicates over the internet? Email happens on the internet. Is that a public performance? There’s such a thing as private communication over a network. Games like Gears of War, for example, allow you to play in co-op mode with another player in the same room or online. I find it hard to believe that the location of player two would determine whether or not the music is being publicly performed. What about a multiplayer game on a local area network? Why would that be any different, in terms of a public performance of music, from a multi-player game with everyone in the same room? Simply playing a game over a network doesn’t make it a performance, nor does that make it public.

But maybe Pepe isn’t referring to having players in remote locations, but having games in remote locations. She uses the Xbox as an example, which seems odd because, as I understand it, the Xbox Live Arcade lets you download games, but that’s quite different from streaming. It’s the video game equivalent of the iTunes Music Store, not an internet radio station. Digital distribution doesn’t mean public performance — the game is still played locally, just off a hard drive instead of a plastic disk.

Okay, so maybe Pepe was trying to talk about a platform that actually hosts and runs games on a remote computer. Still, it’s pretty hard to believe that just because software is run remotely it’s a public performance of the music, when the act of hearing the music would be indistinguishable if the software were run locally. Is it a “public” if I check my email using the Gmail web interface instead of Thunderbird? I have a music server running at home which lets me login and listen to my library from anywhere — is using that a public performance? Do I need a license to listen to my own library because it’s on a different hard drive? How does playing music in a video game become a public performance simply because of the hard drive the game resides on or the CPU that runs the process?

Furthermore, let’s pretend there’s actually public performance taking place. Is it even in a composer’s best interest to demand these royalties? (This is not about a composers “right to get paid;” composers are getting paid — upfront.) Making it harder for people to hear your music is rarely a good idea. Like with theme music for WKRP in Cincinnati or House in the UK, game developers may just seek other music if the licensing requirements are too burdensome. Focusing on getting every penny for every use of the music ignores the value of being included in a game, film or television show. The lesson from video game music of the past and present is that having your music included in a great game is extremely valuable. Not only are you getting paid to be promoted, but the game developers are even doing the hard work of getting fans to connect with the music! Rather than demanding compensation for every use, composers and songwriters should look at other ways to take advantage of the opportunity to make more money from the increased fan base. If ASCAP were really representing their interests, it would be helping them do this instead of pretending that the internet and video games are like television and insisting on performance royalties which will only get in the way of new business models. Of course, don’t expect ASCAP to promote anything that isn’t about increasing royalties. If your only tool is a hammer, everything looks like a nail… [or rather, as Hulser puts it: "if the only tool you sell is a hammer, you need everyone to keep buying nails."]

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