Chapter Title: Making Sense of Copyright Chapter Author(s): Simon Frith and Lee Marshall Book Title: Music and Copyright Book Editor(s): Simon Frith and Lee Marshall Published by: Edinburgh University Press Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.3366/j.ctvxcrsmt.4 JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org. Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at https://about.jstor.org/terms Edinburgh University Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to Music and Copyright This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms CHAPTER 1 Making Sense of Copyright Simon Frith and Lee Marshall T h e first edition of this book was published more than a decade ago, in 1993. As the original introduction argued, the book reflected growing professional and academic interest in copyright law. Two reasons were suggested for this interest: first, new technologies for the storage and retrieval of knowledge, sounds and images were posing complex problems for legal definitions of work, authorship and use; second, the related globalisation of culture was impelling multinational leisure corporations to seek the 'harmonisation' of copyright regulations across national boundaries. Either way, the legal concept of 'intellectual property' and its financial value had become an issue. For music industry analysts, in particular, a business that had been studied in the 1960s and 1970s as manufacture, producing commodities for sale to consumers, had come to be understood in the 1980s as a service, 'exploiting' musical properties as baskets of rights. This was not then (and probably is not now) the way in which most people understood a music industry still routinely described as 'the record business', a business dominated by the major 'record labels'. T o this day, music business success is measured in record sales, music business problems by record sales decline. Musicians are more likely to celebrate writing a song or releasing a record than 'creating a basket of rights' and, for consumers, copyright law is undoubtedly an arcane and jargon-ridden area of interest. What are 'mechanical' or 'neighbouring' rights? Where is the 'public domain'? What is the difference between 'rights in performance' and 'performance rights'? Between the Berne Convention and the Rome Convention? Who, besides a few record company lawyers, cares? If it does nothing else, we hope this book explains why you should. For anyone with any interest in music, copyright is vitally important, more important than any other concept in making sense of the variety of social practices that make up 'the music industry'. Copyright provides the framework for every business decision in the industry. Who gets This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 2 MUSIC AND COPYRIGHT recorded? What do they record? How and where they are marketed? Who is allowed to use their song? Who makes money from this performance? Who is allowed to use their image? Who makes money from that? Will this song be heard on the radio? Used on a T V commercial? Feature in the background of a cinematic film? Can you get a ringtone of your favourite track? Can you arrange it? Sample it? Download it? Copy it for a friend? All these questions concern copyright. Copyright, one might say, is the currency in which all sectors of the industry trade. Ignoring copyright thus means ignoring one of the key structural features of the music industry and this collection is intended to help students of popular music understand the vital role that copyright plays in what they are studying. This introduction will offer an idiot's guide to copyright terms while later chapters provide both an exploration of key theoretical assumptions and a discussion of how copyright affects everyday musical practices. No prior understanding of copyright is assumed indeed, prior ignorance can be quite useful when approaching this topic because the aporias and contradictions of copyright can seem more apparent. As Jessica Litman once put it: Although writers have suggested that members of the public find the idea of property rights in intangibles [like a piece of music] difficult to accept, there seems to be little evidence that members of the public find the idea of a copyright counterintuitive. Rather, the lay public seems to have a startlingly concrete idea of what copyright is and how it works, which has little to do with actual copyright law. (Litman 1991: 3 4 ) At the time Litman was making a mildly ironic point about lawyers' capacity for arrogance and self-delusion. A dozen years later, as the Record Industry Association of America begins legal proceedings against random individuals for downloading tracks using peer-to-peer software (and the British Phonograph Industry threatens to follow the RIAA lead), the remark reads like a prescient and sober warning. There is now an even bigger gap between the lay and professional understanding of copyright as copyright holders dramatically increase its scope. Their remarkable success in lobbying governments for legal change, to put this another way, is due in no small part to the lack of public understanding of what the new laws imply. There is another kind of irony here. Most lay people (not least journalists) believe that digital technology is such a systematic financial threat to record companies and the artists signed to them that the various technological and legal attempts to prevent digital 'theft' have been in vain. In the first edition of this book, for example, most contributors wrote about sampling (the first copyright issue really to This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms MAKING SENSE OF COPYRIGHT 3 interest popular music scholars) as a new kind of composition process which would, in the end, necessitate new definitions of authorship, originality and the public domain. T h e views of someone like the Turtles' Mark Volman (on being sampled by De La Soul) seemed plainly anachronistic: 'Sampling is just a longer term for theft . . . Anybody who can honestly say sampling is some sort of creativity has never done anything creative.' (quoted in McLeod 2001: 89) In the event, as Kembrew McLeod notes, by the beginning of the new century sampling was being regulated systematically by the 'old' copyright system, with 'sample clearance houses' emerging, used by both artists and labels to sort out sample licences and fees. By the end of the 1990s nearly all major publishing and recording companies had followed the lead of EM1 and employed staff 'whose sole job was to listen to new releases that may have contained samples of its property' (McLeod 2001: 89). Clearing samples had become increasingly expensive and administratively time-consuming, which, in turn, had had a variety of effects on how sample-based music like hiphop is produced. For example: When Public Enemy wanted to sample a bit of Buffalo Springfield's 'For What It's Worth', the group discovered that it would be cheaper for them to have the song's original vocalist Stephen Stills sing the part of the song they were going to sample.' (McLeod 2001: 94) T h e history of sampling suggests another reason why musical copyright is an important issue to understand: the music business was the first sector of the entertainment industry to experience the 'threat' of digital technology, and has therefore been at the forefront of the campaign for new legislation to deal with it. There is a familiar story of unexpected technological consequences here: the industry's adoption of the digital format of CDs in the early 1980s, and its brilliantly successful campaign to persuade consumers to shift from vinyl to CD, can be said to have saved record companies from a serious economic crisis. But in storing music as bits of information, record companies were also undermining the material distinction between production and reproduction (or original and copy) on which copyright law rests. I n retrospect it seems technologically inevitable that machines to play CDs would eventually be replaced by machines to play and write CDs, by devices that could retrieve digitalmusical information for new uses.' I t was for this reason that the Internet (a new means of distributing digital information) was immediately This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 4 MUSIC AND COPYRIGHT perceived as much more of a threat to record companies than to, say, book publishers or broadcasters, who have been slower in developing their use of digital technology. These issues will be discussed further in the course of this book, but before laying out our guide to copyright terms, we would like to make one final point about the importance of rhetoric for copyright practice. A common theme of all the chapters here is that the legislative response to digital technology has not only vastly increased the scope of copyright but has also done so in a way which benefits corporate interests at the expense of those of both artists and consumers. What's being described here is a legislative trend that began with the World Intellectual Property Organisation (WIPO) Convention in Geneva in 1996. Signatories to the international treaties drawn up by the WIPO Convention in Geneva agreed to update their national copyright laws so as to give authors, performers, publishers and record companies the right to authorise and require payment for the distribution of their work on the Internet and other computer networks. The result in the USA was the Digital Millennium Copyright Act (DMCA) of 1998, which expanded U S legislative protection for intellectual property to digital materials, and, in Europe, the E U Copyright Directive of 2001, which became law in the UK at the end of October 2003 as the Copyright and Related Regulations A C ~ . ~ There are three points to be made here about these laws. First, the chances are that most readers of this book will not have heard of them even readers who are avid music makers and consumers. Copyright is not normally taken to be a topic of political or public interest. I t is rarely written about in newspapers or featured in policy debate. This means, second, that the rationale of copyright laws and why they matter tends to be determined by the interest of the corporate lobbyists who have driven the legislative changes of the last d e ~ a d eOur . ~ third point follows: while the corporate argument is framed as 'bringing copyright law into line with the new environment' (which is, indeed, a common sense thing to do), from an academic perspective what has actually happened is that the original principles of copyright have been surreptitiously put aside. A system that was originally framed by reference to the public good - it involved restrictions on the monopoly power of rights owners - has become a means of promoting private interests. What was once a system for ensuring public access to knowledge has now become a system, at least in the digital sphere, to prevent it - most obviously in the clauses making it illegal to attempt to circumvent electronic access controls even when accessing non-copyright material.4 T h e 'burden' of copyright law has This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms MAKING SENSE O F COPYRIGHT 5 been transferred from rights owner to rights user: whereas once the rights holder had to persuade a court that an 'unauthorised' use of their work actually damaged them, now the 'illegal' user has to persuade a court that there is some specific reason to excuse their breach. Who would have thought ten years ago, when the first edition of this book came out, that in 2003 U S music consumers would be being prosecuted for how they used their computers in the privacy of their own homes?' T h e questions discussed in this book, then, are neither arcane nor irrelevant to everyday life, and it is particularly important to understand copyright in terms that are not simply derived from rights owners' property claims but also consider the broader effects of copyright on creativity and the social circulation of ideas. In the course of an extensive investigation of the present state of U S copyright law for the Atlantic Monthly, Charles C. Mann came to the conclusion that "rampant musical piracy may hurt musicians less than they fear. T h e real threat - to listeners and, conceivably, democracy itself - is the music industry's reaction to it" (Mann 2000). Such a threat, as is described in later chapters in this book, has a number of components, but two seem paramount. On the one hand, recent legislation seems to extend the notion of copyright from getting paid for usage to controlling usage, thus raising questions about copyright as a means of censorship, a restraint on creativity, a way of restricting the supply of music, and so on. While music industry lobbyists rhetorically involve artists in their anti-downloading campaigns, they cannot always disguise the tensions between composers and performers who want their works exposed as widely as possible (and who, like Janis Ian, see the Internet as a wonderful tool for promotion of their music) and record companies and publishers who want to keep tight control of their markets. In the words of Lawrence Lessig, copyright is 'not speaking for those who create, but those who hold massive amounts of copyright'.6 On the other hand, recent legislation seems to elevate the fact of copying above either the intentions of the copier or the effects of the copy. One of the recurring themes of this book (as of most criticism of recent copyright legislation) is that the notion of 'fair use' - once essential to the copyright attempt to balance the interests of the authors and users of a work - has been systematically marginalised. This is the context in which Siva Vaidhyanathan, one of the most prominent academic critics of the DMCA, wrote as follows: We make a grave mistake when we choose to engage in discussion of copyright in terms of 'property'. Copyright is not about 'property' as commonly understood. It This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 6 MUSIC AND COPYRIGHT is a specific state-granted monopoly issued for particular policy reasons. While, technically, it describes real property as well, it also describes a more fundamental public good that precedes specific policy choices the state may make about the regulation and dispensation of property. But we can't win an argument as long as those who hold inordinate interest in copyright maximisation can cry 'theft!' at any mention of fair use or users' rights. (Vaidhyanathan 2002: 5) Vaidhyanathan goes on to call for academics to play a more active part in encouraging public debate about copyright issues. But, alas, if this is a field where conceptual clarity is called for above all, it is also a field in which such clarity is very hard to attain. What is copyright? If there is one thing upon which copyright scholars can agree, it is that copyright is very complex, and it can seem particularly mysterious to those approaching it from a non-legal background. In this section, we will outline some of its most important characteristics. Our approach here is descriptive and does not offer justifications or criticisms; these will emerge in later chapters.' Indeed, it is perhaps advisable to read this section alongside the chapters in the first section of the book. 'Copyright' is a noun not a verb, a thing rather than an action: you cannot 'copyright something' (Litman 1991: 39). However, although copyright is a thing, its existence depends upon the existence of a work that is eligible for copyright. For this reason, copyright is said to subsist rather than exist. If a person writes a song (known in copyright law as a 'work', as are any other creations), then the song exists and the copyright of the song subsists in the song, but the copyright cannot exist without the song itself. I t is extremely important to distinguish between the work and the copyright of the work - they are not the same thing. If you buy a CD, then you own the physical disc and the recordings of the musical works on it. You can listen to the works, lend the C D to your friends, write rude comments all over the sleeve notes or use it as a Frisbee. You own the thing as a material, physical object. You cannot, however, copy it because you do not own the copyright to the work. (And here is the first complication: these days you can, of course, copy it - 'burn' its content onto a blank C D - but this usage, unlike the others, has to be 'authorised'.) Although we talk of copyright as a singular thing, it is actually generally understood in law as a 'bundle of rights'. If a work is eligible for copyright, then the copyright owner is permitted to do a number of different things with the work which are not permitted to those who do not own the This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms MAKING SENSE OF COPYRIGHT 7 copyright (unless they have been licensed by the rights holder). T h e most obvious of these rights is the right to copy, but there are others. In general, copyright provides the rights holder with the exclusive rights to: 0 copy the work make adaptations of the work (or prepare derivative works)' issue copies of the work to the public perform the work in public broadcast or send a cable transmission of the work.9 Exclusivity is extremely important to note here. No-one but the rightsholder is allowed to do these things without prior authorisation (not even the author if he is not the rights-holder). So far so straightforward. T h e complications begin with the nature of the 'work' at issue. Copyright was initially invented to protect literary works (the first copyright act - known as the Statute of Anne - became English law in 1710). Copyright protection for musical compositions developed later - in 1831 in the U S and 1842 in the U K . When copyright was initially granted to music compositions, the definition of what counted as 'music' was fairly straightforward: it referred to the written score (that which can be printed). Following the invention of the phonograph, however, 'music' became more and more associated with the recorded song and copyright law has attempted to come to terms with this while still centring its focus on the composed work (this is discussed in more detail in Chapter 7). T h e chronological history of copyright remains the best framework for understanding the various rights that are now involved. T o begin with there is a song (or composition). T h e first owners of the copyright in a song are its creator, the people (or person) who wrote it.'' Because they have the exclusive rights described above (by virtue of being the copyright owner, not by virtue of being the author), they also have the exclusive rights to permit other people to do these 'restricted' acts, and in most cases (because they want their works to be known to the public and to make money from them) authors and composers will turn to other people to help them exploit their rights." They can either assign (usually by selling) their rights to a third party or license them to particular people to do specific restricted acts. There are numerous complications here simply in terms of the number of parties who may be involved - licensed or assigned, the rights to do different things to and with the work, in different territories, for different periods of time (the increasing range of uses to which music may be put is described further in Chapter 10). In practice, though, rights are often licensed collectively. In Britain composers thus assign their performance and broadcasting rights to a single This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 8 MUSIC AND COPYRIGHT agency, the Performing Right Society (PRS), which handles all the further negotiations involved in licensing the work's performances (collecting societies are discussed further in Chapter 6). One right which can be assigned by the first copyright owner (following the development of sound recording) is the right to record the work, which is known as the mechanical right. In the UK composers usually assign their mechanical rights to the Mechanical Copyright Protection Society (MCPS) which, in its own words, 'negotiates agreements with those who wish to record music, collects the mechanical royalties (on record sales, for example) and then distributes them to the correct copyright owner'. Over the course of the twentieth century the recording of a work (rather than its publication in sheet music form) became the usual way in which a work reached the public and a composer's most valuable right (except, perhaps, for classical composers), but it also led to a new kind of exploitation, as first broadcasters, then film makers and juke box owners began to use records (rather than live musicians) for public entertainment. A new kind of musical copyright was created, a right related to the original composition but subsisting in the recording itself rather than the underlying musical work. This neighbouring right is usually owned not by the composer but by the company that organises and publishes the recording (in legal terms, known as the producer). T h e owner of this right has the exclusive rights to cause the recording to be heard in public, to broadcast the recording (by whatever means including, now, the Internet), and to make another recording embodying this recording or any part of it (this is where the problem of sampling arises, but it also involves 'dubbing rights' and 'synchronisation rights', the use of recordings or extracts from recording on film soundtracks, advertisements, and so on). In Britain record companies usually assign these rights to Phonographic Performance Limited (PPL). T h e distinction between copyright and neighbouring rights is an important one, not least because they are intended to benefit different parties (though in practice this may not be the case). They also last for different periods of time (offer different t e r m s of protection in legal parlance): in most industrialised countries copyright lasts for seventy years after the death of the author; neighbouring rights last for a finite period from the date a recording is published which, though substantial (ninety-five years now in the USA), is still likely to be less than that of the copyrights involved. One further type of right needs mentioning in this context: performers' rights (which can be distinguished from performance rights). Performance rights relate to the exclusive rights of a rights-owner to perform his song This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms MAKING SENSE OF COPYRIGHT 9 in public. Any kind of public performance by anyone except the rightsowner has to be licensed (these are the licenses administered in the U K by the Performing Right Society). Performers' rights refer to the rights all the musicians involved have in the performance itself. T h e U K has provided some form of performers' rights since 1925, though they were significantly strengthened by the 1988 Copyright Act (Sherrard 1992: 57). T h e U S had no performers' rights at all until 1994, when a new act to prevent bootlegging was introduced (making it illegal to record a performance without the explicit permission of the performer) (Deas 1998). But the most significant extension to performers rights can be found in the EC Rental Directive that the U K government adopted at the end of 1996. This was designed to ensure that everyone involved in a recording (the session musicians as well as the 'featured' musicians) should benefit when that recording was licensed for broadcast use (on a soundtrack, for example). In effect this means that income previously distributed (by PPL) between record companies and the featured artists now has to be distributed between record companies, featured artists and non-featured performers, a change which makes little difference to a self-sustained band like U2 but involves a new and rather intricate division of the pie for, say, an orchestral recording. Whether or not this has actually benefitted the musicians now entitled to some sort of financial return from the broadcast of their work, given the administrative costs involved and the rewriting of employment contracts, is open to question (this is discussed further in Chapter 7). There are quite significant differences between the ways in which the various rights described here are defined in different countries (traditionally, until the DMCA, the USA had a much more restricted definition of the neighbouring rights in a recording than the UK, for example) and these are discussed further in the next chapter, but one further right does need to be described here. In the civil law approach to copyright originating in France and the norm in continental Europe, authors and composers have a moral right (droit moral) in their work. (Moral rights only became a part of U K law in the 1988 Copyright Act, as an effect of its membership of the European Union, and are not recognised as such in U S law.) Unlike other elements of copyright, moral rights are inalienable: they cannot be assigned to another party (though they can be waived). In Britain the moral rights available to an author include most significantly: The paternity right (droit a la paternite? -the right to be identified as the author of a work. (There is also a right not to have a work falsely attributed to oneself as an author.) This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 10 MUSIC AND COPYRIGHT a T h e right of integrity (droit a Finte'grite? - the right to object to the 'derogatory' treatment of the work, to its alteration in any way which is 'a distortion or mutilation of the work or is otherwise prejudicial to the honour or reputation of the author'. In continental law authors also have a publication right (droit de divulgation) - the right to determine when and whether a work shall be published; and a withdrawal right (droit de retrait) - the right to withdraw or modify a work already published. Copyright Problems We hope that this brief description of the types of rights existing under the general .label of 'copyright' indicates both the complexity of the area and the significance of copyright for the institutional structure of the contemporary music industry. Take an average compilation C D as an example of how the system works. I t includes the cover art (itself a copyrightable work), maybe some sleeve notes (a copyrightable literary work), a number of tracks written by different songwriters (some written by more than one person) and sung by different singers (some with a known band, some using session musicians). I t is possible that this one disc has upwards of sixty different rights interests (and many more if samples are involved), something indicated by the ever-lengthening small print on the C D package.'2 But in outlining here the basic terms involved in copyright we also need to draw attention to some of the conceptual problems that are taken for granted in copyright discussions but are not always explicitly acknowledged. I t usually goes without saying, for example, that not all works are eligible for copyright. T h e most significant criterion for claiming copyright in the first place is that a work must be original. I n copyright terms, original merely means that the work has not been copied from elsewhere (that is, that the author is the originator of the work) and does not refer to any intrinsic, aesthetic quality (even the most banal 'formulaic' songs are eligible for copyright as long as they have not been copied). Technically, this means that two individuals could independently write exactly the same song and both would qualify for copyright because both would be 'original'. Neither could be said to have copied the other; neither would be benefiting from the other's skill or labour. (Thus in many plagiarism cases the argument before the court is not whether song A sounds like song B but whether songwriter A had heard the work of songwriter B before writing his or her composition.) This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms MAKING SENSE O F COPYRIGHT 11 The criteria for originality were initially devised to prevent publishers from claiming copyright in ancient works, and this is where the concept of public domain comes into play. A work is in the public domain when no-one can claim exclusive rights to its use. This will happen either when the term or period of protection has come to an end (more than seventy years have passed since its author's death) or when there is no author who can claim to be its originator (because it was composed anonymously, collectively, as part of a 'folk' process).13But the prominence of the idea of originality within copyright discourse also reflects particular conceptions of authorship that have developed in Western modernity (the conceptions that inform the idea of an author's moral right). This has created particular problems for traditional musicians, as discussed in Anthony Seeger's chapter (the issue here is not that a work is too old to copyright or even that composition is collective but that the continuing process of recreation is not understood in terms of the Romantic artist). And even in the West the argument that copyright is a way of acknowledging the value of artistic creativity is not as straightforward as it may seem.14 Encouraging authorship is one of the central justifications for copyright, but, on the other hand, authors are usually in a very weak position to exploit their own rights. As authors they may be the first owners of copyright in a work but they are almost entirely reliant on other agencies to publish, reproduce and distribute their work to the public, and their bargaining position with publishers and record labels is not strong. In order to get any financial return from their work, they have to cede many of their rights in it to management companies, publishers, and record labels. T o put this another way, the history of music is a history of composers and artists, as well as their rights, being exploited. A second issue that arises here is how best to discuss copyright as an overarching concept while simultaneously acknowledging the many differences between copyright regimes both legally and socially in different countries. The protection of literary works evolved relatively independently in many states in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries (see Chapter 2) and different power relations and ideologies resulted in a great many local variations in who and what was protected and how (different countries had very different policies on the copyright protection to be afforded to foreign authors, for example). Similarly, popular music industries in different countries have developed their own idiosyncrasies. CD rental, for example, has a role in the Japanese industry that would not be legally possible elsewhere, while in the USA the strength of the radio lobby has always managed to prevent the development of the kinds of neighbouring rights in recordings long acknowledged in Europe. This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 12 MUSIC AND COPYRIGHT Is it possible, then, to develop an analysis that uses both 'copyright' and 'the music industry' as general concepts while facilitating a nuanced understanding of local variations? Twenty years ago, the answer would probably have been no. Even in the first edition of this book, ten years ago, chapters were organised on a country by country basis. In this volume, though, we have asked authors to approach copyright thematically, taking evidence from more than one country while paying attention to the particularity of national situations. We believe, in fact, that today it would be difficult to analyse the copyright situation in any one country without reference to global developments, to the ways in which different national copyright systems are beginning to be 'harmonised'. Developments within media industries over the last twenty to thirty years have resulted in increasingly transnational legal structures; local actors now find themselves in very similar situations. Indeed, one purpose of this book is to draw attention to how such transnational developments in copyright law are affecting our everyday musical lives at the local level, for good or ill (see Chapters 4 and 6). The music industry has always been an international industry, of course, and historically the main way that interested parties have sought to deal with local differences in copyright law has been through multinational treaties binding signatory countries to an agreed set of minimum standards of rights protection. The first such copyright treaty was the Berne Convention for the Protection of Literary and Artistic Works, which was established, mainly by authors and artists, in 1886, and which has been revised a number of times since. The Berne Convention concerned the protection of literary and artistic expressions that were fixed in a tangible form (such as books and sheet music-performances are not protected through this convention); protection was to be granted by member states for a minimum period of fifty years after the death of the author. Among other things the Convention also mandated moral rights for artists (which was the main reason for the USA not signing up to Berne until over 100 years after its inception). Berne protected musical works, but not sound recordings and so in Rome in 1961 an additional agreement, The International Convention for the Protection of Performers, Producers of Phonograms and Broadcasting Organisations, was established to help prevent the international piracy of sound recordings. The Rome Convention, as it is known, protects sound recordings in signatory countries for a minimum of twenty years and offers some limited protection to performers. Again, however, the USA did not sign the agreement; this time because it did not recognise performers' rights. The slightly curious situation arose, therefore, that This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms MAKING SENSE OF COPYRIGHT 13 the world's largest exporter of copyrighted works, including sound recordings, was not a signatory to either of the major international treaties relevant to copyright in the music industry. If nothing else, this suggests that copyright may not be as necessary for music business activities as is often suggested. This situation changed, anyway, in the 1990s as part of a dramatic paradigm shift in international copyright regulation which has seen copyright become embedded within a wider network of trade relations and not just subject to specific copyright conventions such as Berne and Rome. T h e most significant development in this context was the TRIPs agreement of 1993. TRIPs (an acronym for Trade Related Aspects of Intellectual Property) is part of G A T T (General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade), the central plank of the global market economy, and the TRIPs agreement significantly strengthened protection for copyright by not only establishing minimum levels of protection, but also, perhaps even more importantly, establishing minimum levels of enforcement. TRIPs thus incorporates many of the substantive provisions of Berne and Rome (though increasing the minimum protection of sound recordings from twenty to fifty years) while making available new kinds of sanction against countries which do not sufficiently police copyright law. Crucially, by embedding copyright into a trade agreement, TRIPs makes it possible for net copyright exporters (such as the U K and US) to impose cross-sectoral trade sanctions on those countries which fail to enforce copyright protection (over the last ten years various countries - such as the Ukraine, India and China - have been threatened with such action). TRIPs also means that many more countries are now bound to protect copyright than were signatories to Berne or Rome. There are currently 146 members of the World Trade Organisation (WTO), the body established to liberalise trade, which binds members to GATT. Thus today national music industries with many different histories come under the same copyright regulations, and are threatened with similar international sanctions (such as export bans) if they do not enforce Western-style copyright protection in their own domains. I t would be easy to conclude from the sort of arguments we've been making here that copyright is (and has always been) the dynamic driving the music industry; that what the industry does (music publishing, record making, rights management and so on) is determined by what the law allows it to do. And it is certainly the case that lawyers have a prominent role in everyday music business and that the courts are routinely involved in adjudicating music industry disputes (rather more so than in other businesses -see Frith 2002 and Chapter 6 in this book). But this would be This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 14 MUSIC AND COPYRIGHT a misleading conclusion, nonetheless. As the chapters that follow explain, the legal concept of copyright has been shaped by music industry practice and, in particular, by the distribution of music industry power, as much as it has shaped them. If individual music companies have to ensure that what they do is lawful, the music industry devotes much of its energy as an industry to seeking to change the law - in ceaseless lobbying of Congress, the EU, the W T O and so on. In recent years, as we noted at the beginning of this chapter, it has been remarkably successful, which is to confirm our point that copyright has to be understood as a political construct as well as a legal principle. Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say that as a legal principle copyright is a political construct with economic causes and consequences. One problem for academic studies of copyright (particularly for economists - see Chapter 3) is that while it is easy to explain why copyrights are valuable for the music industry in general terms, it is extremely difficult to document how much the different rights in a particular work are worth, or how the flow of income works. One can show clearly enough, that is to say, that the value of copyrights determines certain sorts of market decision (following the development of talkies, for example, it paid Hollywood studios to buy up music publishers in order to ensure a supply of musical content, just as it paid Sony to buy CBS fifty years later to ensure a supply of film and music and T V content for the new era of home entertainment). But it is all but impossible to discover the financial return to all the rights holders involved in licensing all the uses of the tracks on, say, Dido's Life for Rent, or to track where all the money made by these tracks goes. (Remember too, that they can go on earning income for at least another ninety-five years and possibly several decades longer.) Part of the problem here is that the industry is nowadays so structured that much of the flow of copyright income is internal to one company - in accounting terms, record company payments of mechanical rights fees to publishers, and television company payments of neighbouring right fees to record companies, may simply mean moving figures from one part of a corporate balance sheet to another. Indeed, one economic consequence of copyright seems to be to encourage, under certain technological conditions, the merger of content producing (or rights owning) and content (or rights) using companies (leading to the emergence of a rights oligopoly). The former companies are thus able to ensure not only exposure for their works but fee income; the latter are able to ensure a supply of content at a reasonable rate. Such synergy makes good sense to the companies concerned; it is less clear that it - This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms ~ MAKING SENSE OF COPYRIGHT 15 benefits either the consumer or the artist; and it is certain that it is impossible to get at the figures which would show who is really earning what from the copyright system. The structure of this volume As editors, what most surprised us about the following chapters was the recurring scepticism expressed about the benefits of copyright. We asked people to write about copyright using different disciplinary approaches and from the perspective of different positions in the industry; we were not trying to develop any specific kind of copyright 'line'. Yet many of the authors involved concluded that the current copyright regime was of limited benefit to the musical practitioners they describe. We hope that what follows illuminates the complexity and the interest of the issues involved, both in the range of questions covered and in the ways in which different chapters overlap. We haven't attempted to edit out some of the more obvious examples of repetition - the various discussions of 'fair use', for example. The cumulative effect is to clarify the issues involved and to draw attention to the most prominent arguments currently engaging popular music scholars. We have divided these chapters into two sections. We feel that it is impossible to understand current copyright issues in the music industry without an understanding of the historical processes which have led us to where we are. The three chapters in Part I thus describe the conceptual and historical background to contemporary copyright discourse. Martin Kretschmer and Friedemann Kawohl provide a comprehensive guide to development of the idea of copyright as a kind of property, intellectual property, since its origins in eighteenth-century European political and legal thought. Ruth Towse examines in detail the economic arguments for (and against) copyright, again taking a broad historical overview, while Dave Laing focuses on the politics of copyright or, to be more specific, on the way in which the various music business interests have shaped (and been shaped by) the international copyright framework over the last 200 years. Between them, these three essays should help readers understand the legal structure in which everyday musical practices now take place but note the assumption being made here: we've organised this part of the book on the principle that law is best understood as an effect of philosophical and economic thought, the result of economic and political power struggles, rather than developing as a legal doctrine sui generis. This should be borne in mind when reading the second part of the book, which collects together chapters on how copyright is experienced by This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 16 MUSIC AND COPYRIGHT different music business practitioners, for whom the law certainly is materially present, sometimes as a defence against exploitation, more often it seems as a constraint on what they can do, as producers or consumers. Firstly, Steve Greenfield and Guy Osborn describe the reasons why copyright disputes reach the courts, giving judges an unusual influence on record business practice, and also discuss how power relationships within the music industry affect the distribution of copyright rights. Roger Wallis considers the place of composers in 'the music industry value chain', and the dilemmas facing the national collecting societies established to administer their rights as the music industry is increasingly organised globally. Jason Toynbee and Paul Theberge reflect on the ways in which copyright provides a misleading account of musical creativity. Their arguments overlap, though Toynbee's derives from a historical sociological account of popular musical production, while Theberge's rests on an account of how digital technology has affected recent music-making practices in the studio. For both writers the problem of copyright law is that it assumes that music is a kind of object (a work, a score, a thing) that it long since ceased to be. Anthony Seeger looks at the way in which Western copyright law not only fails to make sense in other kinds of music culture but also denies traditional musicians moral or financial control of the use of their works by Western entrepreneurs. Finally, Simon Frith considers the ways in which copyright affects media uses of music and its casual consumption, and Lee Marshall 'is concerned with those people who ignore or disregard copyright in their daily lives'. As we have already mentioned, all the writers here describe the ways in which the present copyright system restricts rather than encourages creativity; limits rather than supports musical activity. There is no consensus, though, on what should be done about this. Some of the authors imply that copyright law will just have to change because in its present shape it is becoming irrelevant. Others propose specific legal changes that need to be brought about by political campaigns. Others still seem more fatalistic, suggesting that the present system reflects political and economic realities that we, musicians and consumers alike, will have to live with. We return to the question of the future of copyright at the end of the book. Notes 1. This was certainly an unanticipated consequence. Janis Ian remembers the head of Sony marketing explicitly enthusing that 'CDs were uncopyable' when persuading her to license her record, Between the Lines, in CD format (at a reduced royalty rate). See Janis Ian: 'A freedom that works: the upside This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms MAKING SENSE OF COPYRIGHT 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 17 of download', available among other places on www.openDemocracy.net, downloaded 31 July, 2002. We should also mention in this context the Sonny Bono Copyright Term Extension Act of 1998, which extended the term of copyright protection in the USA from fifty years after the death of the author to seventy years (as in Europe) and the term of copyright protection of the work of 'corporate creators' from seventy-five to ninety-five years. This is not to say that corporate media content providers were the only lobbyists concerned. Media access providers such as Internet servers, computer equipment manufacturers and telecommunications companies had their own interest in increasing the consumer demand for downloading devices and in avoiding prosecution for the consumer 'misuse' of their equipment. But the lack of much media coverage of or political argument about the WIPO treaties or E U Directives or even Congressional hearings does suggest that digital copyright regulation has been shaped primarily by corporate argument. On 27 October 2003, the New York Times reported that students at M I T were developing a version of peer-to-peer music sharing that would distribute tracks via the university's analog campus cable system. This would be legal as analog technology is not regulated as rigorously as digital technology is. (John Schwartz: 'With Cable T V at M.I.T., Who Needs Napster?' Thanks to Peter Meech for this reference.) I n its 20 August 2003 issue, the American satirical magazine, The Onion, published its response to the hype surrounding the iPod. Under the headline 'I Have An iPod - I n My Mind!', Ted Lascowitcz wrote that 'I can call up any song I've ever heard, any time I want. And I never have to load software or change batteries. There are no firewire cords or docks to mess with. I just put my hands behind my head, lean back, and select a tune from the extensive music-library folder inside my brain.' After absorbing the endless anti-theft messages from the RIAA, it's impossible to read this without thinking immediately of the ways in which publishers will seek to do something about such an appallingly unregulated use of their properties. (Thanks to Alfred Archer for this reference.) Quoted in Karlin Lillington, 'Sentries at the gate', Guardian Online, 20 December 2001, p. 3. What follows is indebted to Carey and Verow (1997). A derivative work is a new work that incorporates aspects of a pre-existing work. Translations, screenplays based on novels and abridgements are all examples of derivative works. A new artistic creation could also be a derivative work. For example, painting a moustache on an image of the Mona Lisa creates a new work but one that is derived from an earlier work, as is a rap record that utilises samples. This list is taken from the 1988 Copyright Designs and Patents Act. As already discussed these provisions have now been extended to cover digital/ Internet transmission. This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 18 MUSIC AND COPYRIGHT 10. There are some exceptions to this. Ifa work is commissioned, then the copyright is vested in the person or company who did the commissioning; similarly if a work is produced as a normal part of employment then its copyright is vested with the employer. Arguments about who owns the copyright in such situations can be complicated (and will be affected by the nature of the contracts between the parties) - disputes about who owns the rights to advertising jingles regularly reach the courts, for example. In 1999, using this 'work for hire' principle the American recording industry attempted to amend U S copyright act so that all recordings made under contract were classified as work for hire, but this did not succeed. Their model was the Hollywood studio system - as film studios initiate and fund films they own their copyright. Record companies argued that they were working in a similar way. 11. One feature of digital distribution is that it makes it easier for 'first owners' to reach a public without third party help. 12. Example taken from Cornish (2000: 11-12). 13. It is quite common in plagiarism cases for a defendant to claim that the plaintiffs did not in fact 'originate' the song at issue but simply lifted a melody from the public domain. They could therefore not claim any exclusive rights in it. 14. One further complication here is the nature of collective authorship or collaboration. How should rights premised on the author be assigned when the creation of a work was a group process? References Carey, P. and Verow, R. (1997), Media and Entertainment Law, Bristol: Jordans. Cornish, G. (2000), Understand Copyright in a Week, London: Hodder and Stoughton. Deas, S. (1998), 'Jazzing up the Copyright Act? Resolving the uncertainties of the United States anti-bootlegging law', Hustings Communications and Entertainment Law j'ournal 20 (3): 567-637. Frith, S. (2002), 'Illegality and the music industry' in M . Talbot (ed.) The Business of Music, Liverpool: Liverpool University Press, 195-216. Litman, J. (1991), 'Copyright as myth', paper presented to conference on 'Intellectual Property and the Construction of Authorship', Case Western Reserve University, 19-21 April. McLeod, K. (2001), Owning Culture. Authorship, Ownership, and Intellectual Property, New York: Peter Lang. Mann, C. C. (2000), 'The heavenly jukebox', Atlantic Monthly, September. http://the atlantic.com/issues/2000/og/mann.htm Sherrard, B. (1992), 'Performer's protection: the evolution of a complete offence', Entertainment Law Review 3 (2): 57-63. Vaidhyanathan, S. (2002), 'Copyright as cudgel', Chronicle of Higher Education, 2 August. http://chronicle.com/free/v48/i47/47b0070l.htm This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:24:27 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms NYU Press Chapter Title: REMIX: How Creativity Is Being Strangled by the Law Chapter Author(s): LAWRENCE LESSIG Book Title: The Social Media Reader Book Editor(s): Michael Mandiberg Published by: NYU Press Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/j.ctt16gzq5m.15 JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars, researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information technology and tools to increase productivity and facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org. Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the Terms & Conditions of Use, available at https://about.jstor.org/terms NYU Press is collaborating with JSTOR to digitize, preserve and extend access to The Social Media Reader This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms Pa rt V Law This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms This page intentionally left blank This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms REMIX 11 How Creativity Is Being Strangled by the Law L aw re nce L e s sig I’ve written five books. Four of these books are extraordinarily depressing. I like depressing, deep, dark stories about the inevitable destruction of great, fantastic ideas. After my first child was born, my thinking began to shift some, and I wrote Remix, which is quite new in the collection because it’s a fundamentally happy book or, at least, mostly a happy book. It’s optimistic. It’s about how certain fantastic ideas will win in this cultural debate. Though the problem is that I’m not actually used to this optimism; I’m not used to living in a world without hopelessness. So I’m actually moving on from this field to focus on a completely hopeless topic, solving problems of corruption, actually. Completely hopeless. But I am happy to come here to talk about this most recent book. I want to talk about it by telling you some stories, making an observation, and constructing an argument about what we need to do to protect the opportunity that technology holds for this society. There are three stories. The first one is very short. A very long time ago, the elite spoke Latin, and the vulgar, the rest of the people, spoke other languages: English, French, and German. The elite ignored the masses. The masses ignored the elite. That’s the first story. Very short, as I promised. Here’s number two: In 1906, John Philip Sousa traveled to the United States Congress to talk about phonographs, a technology he called the “talking machines.” John Philip Sousa was not a fan of the talking machines. He was quoted as saying, “These talking machines are going to ruin the artistic development of music in this country. 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 the old songs. Today you hear these infernal machines going night and day. We will not have a vocal cord left. The vocal cords will be eliminated by a process of evolution, as was the tail of man when he came from the ape.”1 | This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 155 I want you to focus on this picture of “young people together singing the songs of the day or even old songs.” This is culture. You could call it a kind of read/write culture. It’s a culture where people participate in the creation and re-creation of their culture. It is read/write, and Sousa’s fear was that we would lose the capacity to engage in this read/write creativity because of these “infernal machines.” They would take it away, displace it, and in its place, we’d have the opposite of read/write creativity: a kind of read-only culture. A culture where creativity is consumed, but the consumer is not a creator. A culture that is top down: a culture where the “vocal cords” of the millions of ordinary people have been lost. Here is story three: In 1919, the United States voted itself dry as it launched an extraordinary war against an obvious evil—a war against the dependence on alcohol, a war inspired by the feminist movement, a war inspired by ideas of progressive reform, and a war that was inspired by the thought that government could make us a better society. Ten years into that war, it was pretty clear this war was failing. In places around the country, they asked how we could redouble our efforts to win the war. In Seattle, the police started to find ways to fight back against these criminals using new technology: the wiretap. Roy Olmstead and eleven others found themselves the target of a federal investigation into his illegal production and distribution of alcohol. His case, Olmstead v. the United States (1928), was heard by the Supreme Court to decide whether the wiretap was legal.2 When the police tapped the phones of Olmsted and his colleagues, they didn’t get a judge’s permission, or a warrant, they just tapped the phones. The Supreme Court looked at the Fourth Amendment to the Constitution, which protects against “unreasonable searches and seizures.” Chief Justice Taft concluded that the wiretap was not proscribed by this amendment. He said the Fourth Amendment was designed to protect against trespassing. But wiretapping doesn’t involve any necessary trespass: they didn’t enter Olmstead’s home to attach anything to the wires; they attached the wiretap after the wires left Olmsted’s home. There was no trespass, therefore no violation of the Fourth Amendment. Louis Brandeis, in voicing his dissent, argued vigorously for a different principle. Brandeis said the objective of the Fourth Amendment was to protect against a certain form of invasion, so as to protect the privacy of people. He argued that how you protect privacy is a function of technology, and we need to translate the old protections from one era into a new context. He used the phrase “time works changes,” citing Weems v. United States (1910). Brandeis lost in that case and the wiretap won, but the war that the wiretap was aiding was quickly recognized to be a failure. By 1933 people recog156 | Lawrence Lessig This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms nized this failure in increased costs they hadn’t even anticipated when they first enacted this prohibition: the rise in organized crime and the fall in civil rights. They were also seeing a vanishing benefit from this war: everybody still drank. They realized that maybe the costs of this war were greater than the benefits. And so, in 1933 the Twenty-First Amendment repealed the Eighteenth Amendment, and Prohibition ended. Importantly, what was repealed was not the aim of fighting the dependence on alcohol but the idea of using war to fight this dependence. Those are the stories, and here’s the observation. In a sense that should be obvious, writing is an extraordinarily democratic activity. I don’t mean that we vote to decide what people can write. I mean that everyone should have the capacity to write. Why do we teach everyone to write and measure education by the capacity people have to write? By “write,” I mean more than just grade-school knowledge to make shopping lists and send text messages on cell phones. More specifically, between ninth grade and college, why do we waste time on essays on Shakespeare or Hemingway or Proust? What do we expect to gain? Because, as an academic, I can tell you the vast majority of this writing is just crap. So why do we force kids to suffer, and why do we force their professors to suffer this “creativity”? The obvious answer is that we learn something. In the process of learning how to write, we at least learn respect for just how hard this kind of creativity is, and that respect is itself its own value. In this democratic practice of writing, which we teach everyone, we include quoting. I had a friend in college who wrote essays that were all exactly like this: strings of quotes from other people’s writings that were pulled together in a way that was so convincing that he never got anything less than an A+ in all of his university writing classes. Now, he would take and use and build upon other people’s words without permission of the other authors: so long as you cite. In my view, plagiarism is the only crime for which the death penalty is appropriate. So long as you cite, you can take whatever you want and use it for your purpose in creating. Imagine if the rule were different; imagine you went around and asked for permission to quote. Imagine how absurd it would be to write the Hemingway estate and ask for permission to include three lines in an essay about Hemingway for your English class. When you recognize how absurd it is, you’ve recognized how this is an essentially democratic form of expression; the freedom to take and use freely is built into our assumptions about how we create what we write. Here’s the argument. I want to think about writing or, more broadly, creating in a digital age. What should the freedom to write, the freedom to quote, REMIX This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms | 157 the freedom to remix be? Notice the parallels that exist between this question and the stories that I’ve told. As with the war of Prohibition, we, in the United States, are in the middle of a war. Actually, of course, we’re in the middle of many wars, but the one I want to talk about is the copyright war, those which my friend the late Jack Valenti used to refer to as his own “terrorist war.”3 Apparently the terrorists in this war are our children. As with the war Sousa launched, this war is inspired by artists and an industry terrified that changes in technology will effect a radical change in how culture gets made. As with the Twenty-First Amendment, these wars are raising an important new question: Are the costs of this war greater than its benefits? Or, alternatively, can we obtain the benefits without suffering much of the costs? Now, to answer that question, we need to think first about the benefits of copyright. Copyright is, in my view, an essential solution to a particular unavoidable economic problem. It may seem like a paradox, but we would get less speech without copyright. Limiting the freedom of some people to copy creates incentives to create more speech. That’s a perfect and happy story, and it should function in exactly this way. But, as with privacy, the proper regulation has to reflect changes in technology. As the technology changes, the architecture of the proper regulation is going to change. What made sense in one period might not make sense in another. We need to adjust, in order to achieve the same value in a different context. So with copyright, what would the right regulation be? The first point of regulation would be to distinguish, as Sousa did, between the amateur and the professional. Copyright needs to encourage both. We need to have the incentives for the professional and the freedom for the amateur. We can see something about how to do this by watching the evolution of digital technologies in the Internet era. The first stage begins around 2000, which is a period of extraordinary innovation to extend read-only culture. Massively efficient technology enables people to consume culture created elsewhere. Apple’s iTunes Music Store allows you to download culture for ninety-nine cents, though only to an iPod and, of course, only to your iPod (and a few other iPods whose owners you trust with your iTunes login). This is an extraordinarily important and valuable part of culture, which my colleague Paul Goldstein used to refer to as the “celestial jukebox.”4 This step is critically important, as it gives people access to extraordinary diversity for the first time in human history. That is one stage. A second stage begins around 2004, a reviving of Sousa’s read/write culture. The poster child for this culture is probably something like Wikipedia, but the version I want to focus on is something I call “remix.” Think about 158 | Lawrence Lessig This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms remix in the context of music. Everybody knows the Beatles’ White Album. It inspired Jay Z’s Black Album, which inspired DJ Danger Mouse’s Grey Album, which literally synthesizes the tracks so that the White Album and Black Album together produce something gray. That’s 2004: two albums synthesized together in what came to be known as a mashup. The equivalent today is something like the work of Girl Talk, who synthesizes up to 280 different songs together into one particular song. Think in the same context about film: in 2004, with a budget of $218, Jonathan Caouette’s Tarnation makes its debut in wowing Cannes and wining the 2004 Los Angeles International Film Festival.5 Caouette took twenty years of Super-8 and VHS home movies and an iMac given to him by a friend to create an incredibly moving documentary about his life and relationship with his mentally ill mother. On a more modest but more prevalent level, YouTube is full of something called anime music videos. These videos are anime, the Japanese cartoons sweeping America today. It is not just kids making them, but we’ll just pretend for a second that it is kids who take the original video and reedit it to a different sound track. It can be banal or interesting. And almost all of this read/write has emerged on YouTube. Many people focus on the copyrighted TV shows that are digitized and posted onto YouTube overnight. I want you to think about the call-andresponse pattern that YouTube inspires, where someone will create something and then someone else will create another version of the same thing. A hip-hop artist named Soulja Boy created a song called “Crank Dat,” which featured a dance called “The Superman.” The beat was catchy; the lyrics were literally a set of instructions on how to reproduce the dance. The original music video was a low-budget demonstration of the steps required to reproduce the dance.6 And reproduce it did.7 That how-to video has been viewed over forty million times as of June 2009. There are hundreds, if not thousands, of videos of the Soulja Boy Superman dance—each one building on the next: cartoon characters, people of all ethnicities, Internet celebrities, politicians.8 The point is these are increasingly conversations between young people from around the world. YouTube has become a platform where people talk to each other. It’s the modern equivalent of what Sousa spoke of when he spoke of “the young people together, singing the songs of the day or the old songs.” But rather than gathering on the front lawn, they now do it with digital technologies, sharing creativity with others around the world. Just today I discovered a remix of the presidential debates that emphasizes the prevalence of talking points through remix.9 Many people saw the “Yes We Can” video featuring famous musicians singing along to one of Barack REMIX This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms | 159 Obama’s speeches.10 This kind of pastiche of songs, sounds, and words has become a natural way to express politics that maybe a decade ago would not have been understandable.11 My favorite is Johan Soderberg’s “Bush Blair Endless Love,” which edits their speeches to a love song by Diana Ross and Lionel Ritchie.12 I’m very sad, but this is one of the last times I get to share this one, as Bush’s term is ending shortly. Remix has nothing to do with technique, because the techniques this work employs have been available to filmmakers and videographers from the beginning of those forms of expression. What’s important here is that the technique has been democratized for anyone who has access to a fifteenhundred-dollar computer. Anyone can take images, sounds, video from the culture around us and remix them in ways that speak to a generation more powerfully than raw text ever could. That’s the key. This is just writing for the twenty-first century. We who spend our lives writing have to recognize that nonmultimedia, plain alphanumeric text in the twenty-first century is the Latin from the Middle Ages. The words, images, sounds, and videos of the twenty-first century speak to the vulgar; they are the forms of expression that are understood by most people. The problem is that the laws governing quoting in these new forms of expression are radically different from the norms that govern quoting from text. In this new form of expression that has swept through online communities that use digital technology, permission is expected first. Why is there this difference? It is a simple, technical clause in the law, a conflict between two architectures of control. One architecture, copyright, is triggered every time a copy is made. The other architecture, digital technology, produces a copy in every single use of culture. This is radical change in the way copyright law regulated culture. Think, for example, about a book that is regulated in physical space by copyright law. An important set of uses of a book constitute free uses of a book, because to read a book is not to produce a copy. To give someone a book is not a fair use of a book; it’s a free use of a book, because to give someone a book is not to produce a copy of a book. To sell a book requires no permission from the copyright owner, because to sell a book is not to produce a copy. To sleep on a book is an unregulated act in every jurisdiction around the world because sleeping on a book does not produce a copy. These unregulated uses are balanced with a set of regulated uses that create the incentives necessary to produce great new works. If you want to publish a book, you need permission from the copyright owner. In the American tradition, there is a thin sliver of “fair use,” exceptions that would otherwise have been 160 | Lawrence Lessig This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms regulated by the law but which the law says ought to remain free to create the incentive for people to build upon or critique earlier work. Enter the Internet, where every single use produces a copy: we go from this balance between unregulated, regulated, and fair uses to a presumptive rule of regulated uses merely because the platform through which we get access to our culture has changed, rendering this read/write activity presumptively illegal. DJ Danger Mouse knew he could never get permission from the Beatles to remix their work. Caouette discovered he could wow Cannes for $218, then discovered it would cost over $400,000 to clear the rights to the music in the background of the video that he had shot. Anime music videos are increasingly getting takedowns and notices from lawyers who are not happy about the one thousand hours of remixed video needed to create the anime music videos. And back to my favorite example of “Bush Blair Endless Love”: I don’t care what you think about Tony Blair, I don’t care what you think about George Bush, and I don’t care what you think about the war. The one thing that you cannot say about this video is what the lawyers said when they were asked for permission to synchronize those images with that soundtrack. The lawyers said no, you can’t have our permission, because “it’s not funny.” So the point here is to recognize that no one in Congress ever thought about this. There was no ATM-RECA Act, the “Act to Massively Regulate Every Creative Act” Act. This is the unintended consequence of the interaction between two architectures of regulation, and, in my view, this is problem number one: the law is fundamentally out of sync with the technology. And, just as with the Fourth Amendment, this needs to be updated. Copyright law needs an update. Problem number two is what those who live in Southern California typically think of as problem number one: piracy or, more specifically, peerto-peer piracy. Piracy is the “terrorism” that Jack Valenti spoke of when he called kids terrorists. Now, I think this is a problem; I don’t support people using technology to violate other people’s rights. In my book Free Culture and in Remix, I repeatedly say you should not use peer-to-peer networks to copy without the permission of the copyright owner. But all of that acknowledged, we need to recognize that this war of prohibition has not worked; it has not changed the bad behavior. Here’s a chart of peer-to-peer simultaneous users (see fig. 11.1). The one thing we learn from this chart is that peerto-peer users don’t seem to read the Supreme Court’s briefs: the arrow marks the date that the Supreme Court declared completely, unambiguously, that this is presumptively illegal. After the ruling, the number of users did not decrease. REMIX This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms | 161 This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms 0 August, 2003 October, 2003 Fig. 11.1. Average simultaneous P2P users September, 2006 August, 2006 July - 2006 June, 2006 May, 2006 April, 2006 March, 2006 February, 2006 January, 2006 December, 2005 November, 2005 October, 2005 September, 2005 August, 2005 July, 2005 June, 2005 May, 2005 April, 2005 March, 2005 February, 2005 January, 2005 December, 2004 November, 2004 October, 2004 September, 2004 August, 2004 July, 2004 June, 2004 May, 2004 April, 2004 March, 2004 February, 2004 January, 2004 December, 2003 November, 2003 | 10.000.000 September, 2003 162 10.500.000 9.500.000 9.000.000 8.500.000 8.000.000 7.500.000 7.000.000 6.500.000 6.000.000 5.500.000 5.000.000 4.500.000 4.000.000 3.500.000 3.000.000 2.500.000 2.000.000 1.500.000 1.000.000 500.000 All this war has done is produce a generation of “criminals.” That part of the story is very ugly, unhappy, and sad. It is the sort of inspiration that I used for my last book, Free Culture. But times have changed, and the story in Remix is a story of change, a change that is inspired by what I think of as the third stage in this development: the development of hybrid economies. To understand a hybrid economy, first think about what “economies” means. Economies are repeated practices of exchange, over time between at least two parties. I want to identify three such economies. First, there are commercial economies. At the grocery store it is a quid pro quo: you get a certain number of bananas for a certain number of dollars. Money is how we speak in this economy. Second, there are economies where money is not part of the exchange. For example, two kids playing on the playground is a sharing economy. Friends going out to lunch sharing their time with each other is a sharing economy. And romantic love is a sharing economy. They are economies, because they exist over time, but, for these economies, money is not how we speak. Indeed, if we introduced money into these economies, we would radically change them. Imagine if two friends were planning a lunch date, and one says, “How about next week?” and the other one says, “Nah, how about fifty dollars instead?” Or consider that when money is introduced into romantic relationships, it radically changes the meaning of that economy for both parties involved. These are both rich and important economies that coexist with the commercial economy. They don’t necessarily compete, but we want lives where we have both. Now the Internet, of course, has produced both commercial and sharing economies. The Internet has commercial economies where people leverage knowledge to produce financial value, and it has sharing economies like Wikipedia or free sound resources like FreeSound.org or SETI@home, where people make their resources available to discover information about the universe. The Internet also has hybrid economies, which I want to focus on. A hybrid economy is one where a commercial entity leverages a sharing economy or a sharing entity leverages a commercial economy. I’m not going to talk about the second case. I want to focus on the first case, where commercial economies leverage sharing economies. So here are some examples, obvious examples. Flickr, from its very birth, was a photo-sharing site that built sharing into its DNA. Indeed, it facilitated sharing by setting “public” as the default viewing state for all uploaded images and giving people the option to license their photos explicitly under a Creative Commons license. This sharing enabled community creation. Yahoo bought Flickr with the goal of leveraging value out of this sharing economy. Likewise, Yelp has exploded, REMIX This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms | 163 as thousands of people around the world share reviews of hotels or restaurants. These shared reviews, which people do for free, produce value for Yelp. Second Life began as a virtual world filled with big blue oceans and beautiful green fields, but through literally hundreds and thousands of hours of volunteer labor by people from around the world creating objects, places, and buildings, they have produced an extraordinarily rich environment that attracts people to Second Life and which profits the company, Linden Labs.13 These are examples of what I think of as a hybrid. Once you see these examples, you will begin to see hybrids everywhere. Is Amazon really a commercial economy in this sense? Because, though it is selling books, much of the value of Amazon comes from the enormous amount of activity that people devote toward helping other people navigate the products which Amazon tries to sell. Apple is doing this. Even Microsoft gets this deep down in its DNA. Of course, Microsoft builds much of its support through volunteers who spend an enormous amount of their time not helping their local church but helping other people run Microsoft products more simply. Now this is not an accident. Mark Smith, a very bright former academic, works in something called the Community Technologies Group at Microsoft. This group develops all sorts of technologies to gauge the health of these communities, to encourage these communities to be more healthy so that other people want to spend more unpaid time helping Microsoft get richer. This dynamic is extraordinary. And it’s no surprise, then, that at a conference about a year and one-half ago, I heard Steve Ballmer declare that every single successful Internet business will be a hybrid business. I think there is enormous promise in these hybrid combinations of free culture and free markets. This presents an enormous potential for the Internet economy to drive value back into these creative industries. That is the argument for what I think can happen, but this takes us doing something to produce it. I want to identify two kinds of changes. The first change is a very technical legal change: the law needs to give up the obsession with the copy. As discussed earlier, copyright law is triggered on the production of every copy. This is, to use a technical and legal term, insane. I believe the law needs to focus on meaningful activity; in a digital world, the copy is not a meaningful activity. Meaningful activity, instead, is a function of the context of the copy’s use. Context will help us distinguish between copies and remixes. We need to distinguish between taking someone’s work and just duplicating it versus doing something with the work that creates something new. Context will help us distinguish between the professional and amateur. The copyright law, as it exists right now, presumptively regulates all this in the same way. 164 | Lawrence Lessig This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms Never before in the history of copyright law has it regulated so broadly. In my view, it makes no sense to regulate this broadly right now. Instead, copyright law needs to focus on professional work being copied without being remixed. It needs to effectively guarantee professionals can control copies of their works that are made available commercially. Amateurs making remixes need to have free use, not fair use; they need to be exempted from the law of copyright. Amateurs need to be able to remix work without worrying about whether a lawyer would approve their remix or not. And between these two very easy cases, there are two very hard cases, professional remixes and amateur copying, cases where the law of fair use needs to continue to negotiate to make sure that sufficient incentives are created while leaving important creativity free. Now, if you look at this and you have any conservative instincts inside you, you might recognize this as a kind of conservative argument. I am arguing in favor of deregulating a significant space of culture and focusing regulation where the regulators can convince us that it will be doing some good. That’s change number one. Change number two is about peer-to-peer piracy. As discussed earlier, we have to recognize we’re a decade into a war on piracy that has totally failed. In response to totally failed wars, some continue to wage that same war against the enemy. That was Jack Valenti’s instinct. My instinct is the opposite. It’s to stop suing kids and to start suing for peace. For the past decade, the very best scholars around the country have created an enormous number of proposals for ways to facilitate compensation to artists without breaking the Internet, proposals like compulsory licenses or the voluntary collective license.14 But as you look at all of these proposals, what we should recognize is what the world would have been like if we had had these proposals a decade ago. Number one, artists would have more money; of course, artists get nothing from peer-to-peer file sharing, and they don’t get anything when lawyers sue to stop peer-to-peer file sharing (because any money collected goes to the lawyers, not the artists). Number two, we would have more competition in businesses; the rules would be clearer, so there would be more businesses that could get venture capital to support them as they innovate around ways to make content more easily accessible. Number three, and the point that is most important to me, is that we would not have a generation of criminals surrounding us. We need to consider these proposals now. We need this legal change. The law needs to change, but so do we. We need to find ways to chill control-obsessed individuals and corporations that believe the single objective of copyright law is to control use, rather than thinking about the objective of REMIX This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms | 165 copyright law as to create incentives for creation. We need to practice respect for this new generation of creators. For example, there is a kind of hybrid which I unfairly refer to as a Darth Vader hybrid. This name was inspired by the Star Wars MashUps site that enables users to remix this thirty-yearold franchise through access to video footage from the films, into which you can upload and insert your own material. You can integrate your own music and pictures into the Star Wars series. But if you read the terms of service for this site, the mashups are all owned by Lucas Film.15 Indeed, Lucas Film has a worldwide perpetual license to exploit all content you upload for free, without any recognition back to the original creator. Yes, this is a hybrid economy, but an economy where the creator doesn’t have any rights. Instead, it’s a sharecropping economy in the digital age. This is an important understanding to track because people are increasingly taking notice of the way hybrid economies work and wondering whether there is justice in it. Om Malik asks, does “this culture of participation . . . build businesses on our collective backs? . . . Whatever ‘the collective efforts’ are, they are going to boost the economic value of those entities. Will they share in their upside? Not likely!”16 We increasingly arrive at this question: what is a just hybrid? I don’t think we know the answer to that question completely. I do think we have some clues. Neither historical nor digital sharecropping is a just hybrid. So how, then, can we express this respect? One way to express this respect is to practice it. Companies can practice it, and you can practice it by doing as Radiohead, Nine Inch Nails, Girl Talk, Beastie Boys, David Byrne, Spoon, Fort Minor, Danger Mouse, Gilberto Gil, Thievery Corporation, Matmos, Cee-Lo, Le Tigre, and My Morning Jacket have done, making your works available in ways that expressly permit people to share and build upon your works. Many companies are already doing this, companies like Flickr, Blip TV, Picasa, Fotonaut, Yahoo, and, I promise, before the end of next year, Wikipedia.17 All of these entities build encouragement on top of Creative Commons licenses—licenses which we launched in 2003 and which over the past six years have exploded in numbers so that there are probably more than 150 million digital objects out there that are licensed under Creative Commons licenses. This is a way to say to creators, “We respect the creativity you have produced. We give you a freedom to express that respect to others.” And it’s an opportunity for us to say “happy birthday” to Creative Commons because it turns six today. And you can say “happy birthday” by giving money at https://support.creativecommons.org/. But of course you can’t sing “Happy Birthday,” because it is still under copyright, and we haven’t cleared those rights. That’s what we need to do, and your support is really critical. 166 | Lawrence Lessig This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms I want to end with just one more story. I was asked to go the Association of the Bar of the City of New York and speak in a beautiful room with red velvet curtains and red carpet. The event had many different aspects. The room was packed with artists and creators and at least some lawyers. All of these people were there because they were eager to learn how they could create using digital technologies, while respecting the law of fair use. The people who organized this conference had a lawyer speak on each of the four factors in fair use for fifteen minutes, with the thought that, by the end of the hour, we’d have an audience filled with people who understood the law of fair use. As I sat there and watched in the audience, I was led to a certain kind of daydreaming. I was trying to remember what this room reminded me of. And then I recalled when I was a kid in my early twenties, I spent a lot of time traveling the Soviet system, seeing great halls where the annual conventions took place. I recognized that the room had reminded me of the Soviet system’s extraordinary tribunals. I began to wonder, when was it in the history of the Soviet system that the system had failed, and what could you have said to convince people of that? 1976 was way too early: it was still puttering along at that point. And 1989 was too late: if you didn’t get it by then, you weren’t going to get it. So when was it? Between 1976 and 1988, if you could have convinced members of the Politburo that the system had failed, what could you have said to them to convince them? For them to know that this romantic ideal that they grew up with had crashed and burned and yet to continue with the Soviet system was to reveal a certain kind of insanity. Because, as I sat in that room and listened to lawyers insisting, “Nothing has changed. The same rules apply. It’s the pirates who are the deviants,” I increasingly recognize that it is we who are insane, that the existing system of copyright simply could never work in the digital age. Either we will force our kids to stop creating, or they will force on us a revolution around copyright law. In my view, both options are not acceptable. Copyright extremists need to recognize that there is a growing movement of abolitionism out there. Kids were convinced that copyright was for another century and that in the twenty-first century it is just not needed. Now, I am not an abolitionist. I believe copyright is an essential part of a creative economy. It makes a creative economy rich in both the monetary and cultural sense. In this sense, I’m more like Gorbachev in this debate than Yeltsin. I’m just an old Communist trying to preserve copyright against these extremisms—extremisms that will, in my view, destroy copyright as an important part of creative culture and industries. Now, you may not be concerned about the survival of copyright. You may say, “Whatever. If it disappears, my machines will still run.” If that’s not REMIX This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms | 167 enough to get you into this battle, let me try one last effort. What you know is that there is no way for us to kill this form of creativity. We can only criminalize it. We can’t stop our kids from creating in these new ways; we can only drive that creativity underground. We can’t make our kids passive the way I, at least, was. We can only make them “pirates.” The question is, is that any good? Our kids live in an age of prohibition. All sorts of aspects of their life are against the law. They live their life against the law. That way of living is extraordinarily corrosive. It is extraordinarily corrupting of the rule of law and ultimately corrupting to the premise of a democracy. If you do nothing else, after you’ve supported Creative Commons, you need to support this movement to stop this war now. Notes This chapter was transcribed and edited by Michael Mandiberg from a talk given at the Computer History Museum in Mountain View, California, December 16, 2008. Lessig gave versions of this stump-style speech to share his ideas on free culture and promote Creative Commons. He kept the basic structure of a series of stories, observations, and a call to arms but updated the examples in the later part to reflect the rapid changes in digital culture. I have tried to preserve Lessig’s powerful didactic, spoken presentation style, while streamlining the transcript to be effective in print form. The video of this talk is available at http://lessig.blip.tv/file/1591892/ (accessed May 31, 2009). This chapter is licensed CC BY. 1. United States Congress, House Committee on Patents, Arguments before the Committee on Patents of the House of Representatives, Conjointly with the Senate Committee on Patents, on H.R. 19853, to Amend and Consolidate the Acts Respecting Copyright: June 6, 7, 8, and 9, 1906 (Washington, DC: Government Printing Office, 1906), http://books.google. com/books?id=zmEoAAAAMAAJ&printsec=titlepage#PPA24,M1 (accessed May 31, 2009). 2. Olmstead v. United States, 277 U.S. 438 (1928). 3. Amy Harmon, “Black Hawk Download: Pirated Videos Thrive Online,” New York Times, January 17, 2002, http://www.nytimes.com/2002/01/17/technology/circuits/17VIDE. html (accessed May 31, 2009). 4. Paul Goldstein, Copyright’s Highway: From Gutenberg to the Celestial Jukebox (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2003). 5. Patricia Aufderheide and Peter Jaszi, “Untold Stories: Collaborative Research on Documentary Filmmakers’ Free Speech and Fair Use,” Cinema Journal 46, no. 2 (2007): 133–139, http://www.acsil.org/resources/rights-clearances-1/nps240.tmp.pdf (accessed July 20, 2010). 6. Soulja Boy, “How to Crank That—instructional video!,” YouTube, originally posted April 2007, reposted August 2, 2007, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLGLum5SyKQ (accessed May 31, 2009). At this point, Soulja Boy is still a self-produced amateur, without a label. Interscope signed him and made an official music video for the song: Soulja Boy, “Crank That,” YouTube, August 9, 2007, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8UFIYGkROII 168 | Lawrence Lessig This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms (accessed July 20, 2010). The premise of the official video is to reenact the discovery of Soulja Boy on YouTube: the hip-hop producer Mr. Collipark, who signed him to Interscope, is trying to understand the Soulja Boy phenomenon, after watching his children dance and surfing YouTube and seeing all of the videos that build on each other. He instant messages with Soulja Boy, eventually signing him to a record deal. 7. Ironically, after Interscope signed the artist, some of these fan videos have been subject to DMCA takedowns: see Kevin Driscoll, “Soulja Boy, Why Take My Crank Dat Video Down?,” response video posted on YouTube, May 31, 2009, http://www.youtube. com/watch?v=wkeaxXLIjhs. 8. A tiny sampling of the Soulja Boy meme includes BEA5TED, “Soulja Boy— Crank Dat Pinocchio,” YouTube, January 5, 2008, http://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=aUM6NLeWQDc (accessed July 20, 2010); djtj1216, “Dora the Explorer (Crank Dat Soulja Boy),” YouTube, July 13, 2007, http://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=vgMgLjMghuk (accessed July 20, 2010); Eric Schwartz, aka Smooth-E, “Crank That Kosha Boy,” YouTube, December 5, 2007, http://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=9oYDBtCN-hk (accessed July 20, 2010); Barelypolitical, “Obama Girl . . . Does Soulja Boy . . . with Mike Gravel,” YouTube, May 9, 2008, http://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=RkZwF96IOyA (accessed July 20, 2010); Jordan Ross, “Crank That Soldier Boy,” YouTube, July 21, 2007, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ZE2OzguWHo (accessed July 20, 2010). 9. 236.com, “Synchronized Presidential Debating,” YouTube, October 28, 2008, http:// www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfd5g8Y_Jqo (accessed May 31, 2009). 10. will.i.am et al., “Yes We Can,” YouTube, February 2, 2008, http://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=jjXyqcx-mYY (accessed May 31, 2009). 11. For example, think about how differently this video treats editing and remix than the famous “We Are the World” video of the previous generation. 12. Johan Soderberg, “Read My Lips: Eternal Love,” 2001–2004, http://www.soderberg. tv (accessed July 20, 2010). 13. Editor’s Note: Not only is this labor unpaid, but it is done by customers who pay for the privilege to do this unpaid work; customers are charged a fee for monthly virtual land use, which we might call rent. 14. For more on the Electronic Frontier Foundation’s alternate schema, see http:// www.eff.org/wp/better-way-forward-voluntary-collective-licensing-music-file-sharing (accessed May 31, 2009). 15. See http://www.starwars.com/welcome/about/mashup-copyright (accessed May 31, 2009). 16. Om Malik, “Web 2.0, Community & the Commerce Conundrum,” GigaOM.com, October 18, 2005, http://gigaom.com/2005/10/18/web-20-the-community-the-commerceconundrum/ (accessed May 31, 2009). 17. In May 2009, the Wikipedia Community voted to switch from the GFDL license to a Creative Commons license: http://meta.wikimedia.org/wiki/Licensing_update/Result (accessed May 31, 2009). REMIX This content downloaded from 137.110.39.184 on Wed, 09 Mar 2022 00:29:00 UTC All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms | 169 3/8/22, 4:03 PM UCSD: My TritonLink TRITONPAY Information: If you encounter any issues with payment options button, please try a different browser (or) clear your browser data cache, disable your browser settings pop-up blocker, please do not use browser back button Account Summary PID: A16533104 VIEW ACCOUNT STATEMENTS choose statement ACCOUNT HISTORY STATEMENT STATUS You have total account balance of: $10,168.57 Pay Now ATTENTION: Per WebReg notification, any student who is wait listed, enrolls late, or has reinstated must make their registration payment by the enrollment deadline. Failure to do so can result in class cancellation and late fees. 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You may share this work for non-commercial purposes only, provided you give attribution to the copyright holder and the publisher. For permission to publish commercial versions please contact Bloomsbury Academic. Lars Eckstein and Anja Schwarz have asserted their rights under the Copyright, Designs and Patents ...
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