In the past hundred years, we have grown used to the notion that our society will change drastically over the course of our lives. Even in 1850, everyone was keenly aware how transformative the train and telegraph had been. Then there were machine guns, effective medicines, automation, refrigeration – all coming at once, when each would have been revolutionary on its own.
As a result, when we see something successful and new, we automatically try to analyze it and jump on the bandwagon, technological or not. Success has a thousand children.
That is why we should be very worried about the new trend of profit through exclusivity.
Anyone who follows the popular blog Boing Boing for two weeks will receive a thorough indoctrination into the Doctorow worldview. In a nutshell, it says that the media and software industries are institutionally overreacting to file sharing, even though sharing increases interest in legal purchases. As a result, the industries are eagerly promulgating mechanisms to spy on, control, sue, and inconvenience their paying customers to remove all threat of piracy. This also produces a chilling effect on fair use, sharing among friends, personal recopying, and derivative-but-novel art.
Granted, the theory is partly akin to the too-clever-by-half arguments for music sharing that were rife in the Napster age. But look at some of what has happened in these industries:
- When you purchase a song or album from iTunes, you can only download it to an iPod, not to competing players (unless you go to the trouble of burning them onto an audio CD and re-copying them, using up the CD in the process).
- The Digital Millennium Copyright Act now bans the circumvention of any form of digital rights management – even if the circumvention is for an otherwise legal use, such as making versions for the blind.
- When you buy a new computer, the license won’t let you reload your previous copy of Windows onto it: you have to pony up once more.
Essentially, these industries want to extract a fee for every conceivable use of their intellectual property. They are not content with the profits of being identifiers or popularity or producers of tools: they want everything they own marketized to squeeze every possible dime out.
Let’s pause to note the role of the public sphere in this. Without copyright and patents, none of this would be possible. All of these are meant to reward invention and creativity and therefore further the public good. But with copyright being extended every time Mickey Mouse would otherwise expire, what creator benefits by letting a corporation profit off her work up to seventy years after her death?
On to another industry: pharmaceuticals. The bulk of original, breakthrough medical research is done by NIH-funded (i.e., taxpayer-funded) research. It is common sense that when the public funds research, its results should go into the public domain. But since the 80’s, universities have had the right to license their publicly-funded discoveries to private entities, giving them the patent rights. This has made a lot of businessmen and universities very rich. But when Bristol-Meyers Squibb licensed the cancer drug Taxol and charged up to $20,000 for a year’s treatment, how well was the public interest served? With intellectual property we simply have overzealous government protection of others’ creations; here, on the other hand, the government is actually giving away its golden eggs for others to sell.
The pharmaceutical and biotech industries are quite aware of how good their patent and exclusivity rights are for them: they spend huge sums on lawyers and lobbyists to preserve these rights as long as possible through arcane legal manipulations and changes to the law. They also work hard to “build brands”: when a popular drug loses its exclusivity, they make a new version with enough insignificant changes to get a new period of exclusivity, and market the hell out of it, manipulating doctors and customers to choose it even when the old version is available generically. In short, the industry is addicted to multiple ways to create revenue without creating value. This has an academic name: rent-seeking. Here, the word “rent” is used to imply revenue without commensurate effort, competition, or risk. Usually, it is used in relation to impoverished countries, referring to bribe-taking political leaders and bureaucrats, or the creation of heavily-protected, inefficient industries. But American industry is now finding new ways to go about it.
For this is by no means a limited trend: more examples continue to spring up. The Smithsonian signed a deal with Showtime to give the cable channel exclusive access to its film archive to create programming. Others are not prohibited from using its collection, but Showtime has the right of first refusal on anything marketable they make. There was also an abortive legislative effort to stop the National Weather Service from providing its weather data to the public, leaving the field to commercial enterprises – even though these enterprises themselves get their data from the NWS! At every turn, the government seems willing to do anything for the sake of connected rent-takers.
There are also alarming signs that this strategy is spreading to the industry as a whole. The Patent Office has been restructured to make rejections of patents rare, and the boundaries of “business method” patents have been extended to ridiculous extremes like online shopping carts. This practically invites businesses of all kinds to invest effort in clearing the field of competition, not for the first several years but as a continuous strategy.
If this keeps up, and companies begin to rely on exclusivity, royalties, and legal awards for all their business, what will it do to public choice and innovation at large?
There was an illustrative cultural vignette in 2005. The NFL and the Major League Baseball Players Association had just sold exclusivity on videogame use of their players’ likenesses to different software companies. The gaming comic Penny Arcade parodied this decision with a comic, “The Exquisite Flavour of Exclusivity,” announcing that they, the creators, had been awarded exclusivity in making comics about videogames. The fiction was continued in a tongue-in-cheek newspost. Tycho Brahe, the comic’s writer, was inundated with protesting emails from those who believed, despite the comic’s barely-veiled criticism, that this had actually happened. He later offered up twin explanations:
1) People Are Stupid
2) Things Really Have Gotten Out Of Hand
As companies accumulate more and more control over the commercial environment they work in, people feel increasingly at their mercy, coerced into going along with whatever they choose to do. Thus, Penny Arcade’s outrageous satire actually seemed plausible to them. In his initial newspost, Tycho said:
“I’m going to walk into an Electronic Arts retail location here in a couple years and purchase a white box with the word ‘Game’ on it, and that's going to be the industry.”
The ultimate in rent-taking is tax farming, where private people or groups bid for the right to collect taxes instead of the government, and pay their expected take in advance. We never do that, for a very good reason: it leads to hired thugs roaming the country, unchecked and unaccountable, pursuing their own private gain while cloaked in the public name. This is what old-regime France did with the General Farm, a collection of financiers which monopolized tax farming. It went so far as to build a wall around Paris for the sole purpose of collecting customs duties. Its very existence reduced the state to a collection of privileges and licenses to be handed out at powerholders' discretion. One of the most hated institutions of the Old Regime, it was disbanded permanently in 1790. Since then, governments have been scrupulous about keeping taxation private, until now:
The Internal Revenue Service should abandon its four-month-old program of sending unpaid, uncomplicated tax debts of $25,000 or less to private bill collectors, national taxpayer advocate Nina E. Olson told Congress yesterday.
If it’s only a matter of collecting money, why not have someone outside the IRS do the work? It’s outsourcing! It’s modern!
It’s not just collecting money, though: it’s preserving the state as the guardian of the public good. With that idea disappearing, we now see public protections reduced to private perks on all sides. Such abuse can carry high consequences when the people realize what they have lost. For the General Farm, the phrase “first up against the wall when the revolution comes” was quite literal.