You are probably a scofflaw. Posting group photos on social media without acknowledging the publicity rights of all the people in the photo, incorporating copied and pasted information from the internet into work presentations without obtaining permission from the author, or singing "Happy Birthday" in public without paying royalties to the appropriate performance rights organization are all examples of infringement of intellectual property rights. Intellectual property is ubiquitous in modern life, and one of its most pervasive forms is copyright, which, according to the authors of Who Owns This Sentence? A History of Copyrights and Wrongs is too broad, too long, and, most of all, too corporate.
It hasn't always been this way. As the authors explain, questions about who owns the products of the human mind go all the way back to a dispute between Plato and one of his students in the fourth century BCE, but these early disputes were more moral than legal, using someone's work without acknowledgment or permission was considered a breach of honor rather than a legal violation. As recently as the eighteenth century, the belief that human genius and creativity should be enjoyed by everyone without restriction was common. As William Warburton said when commenting on the nascent idea of literary property, "One might as well pretend to exclude others from the benefit of a refreshing breeze."
And it was in the eighteenth century in London that the modern conception of copyright took root. The original concept was to give "the authors of books and their assignees a short-term monopoly on the printing and selling of their works." This initial grant sparked discussions about the scope and duration of copyright. Questions arose about whether the monopoly should end upon the author's death or if his heirs should inherit it. Additionally, debates emerged regarding whether the monopoly applied solely to the original work or extended to derivative works like translations and theatrical adaptations. While most of these questions were answered with a definitive "no," they paved the way for the sort of copyright creep that continues to the current day.
The Statute of Anne, widely regarded as the birth of modern copyright, was enacted in 1710 to address the chaos caused by the expiration of the English Licensing of the Press Act of 1662. The Press Act regulated book publishing by effectively granting the Stationers’ Company a printing monopoly. Its expiry led to a free-for-all in publishing, resulting in a flood of cheap copies of books in the English market, especially those imported from Scotland and Ireland. The Statute of Anne subtitled An Act for the Encouragement of Learning, aimed to incentivize authors to create works beneficial to the public good. However, its immediate impact was to restore the Stationers’ Company’s monopoly. Consequently, the printing companies reaped the most significant benefits rather than the authors.
From there, the authors trace nearly three centuries of copyright legislation and legal battles, culminating in their focus on the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976. This landmark act, along with subsequent revisions, is regarded by the authors as one of the most significant pieces of legislation in the Western world over the past half-century. Ostensibly, the Act merely aligned the U.S. with most provisions of the Berne Convention, an international copyright agreement dating back to 1886. However, the practical impact of the 1976 Act was far more significant.
The Act extended the range and term of copyright while lowering the threshold. “Copyright was now extended explicitly to literary works, musical works including their lyrics, dramatic works including their musical accompaniments (such as opera and Broadway musicals), pantomimes and choreographic works, pictorial, graphic and sculptural works (including photographs), motion pictures and other audio-visual works, and sound recordings.” Or virtually anything, it seems, with even a trace of creative input.
Post mortem rights, the author’s monopoly in the copyright inherited by his descendants was extended to fifty years (later extended to seventy years), and the term for corporate rights was extended to seventy-five years (later extended to ninety-five years). In 1989, the requirement for registration was eliminated, aligning with the Berne Convention and granting automatic copyright protection to everything you write, every photograph you take, and every video you record. This provision instantly transformed millions of U.S. citizens into rights owners. With the advent of digital technology, countless millions of new copyrights are created daily.
However, the 1976 Act presents a paradox: while the number of copyright holders and copyrighted works has skyrocketed, a handful of powerful corporations now control the vast majority of commercially valuable copyrights. This, the authors argue, has transformed modern copyright law into a means of increasing the wealth and privilege of the already wealthy and privileged rather than benefiting struggling artists. Of even greater concern, the authors reckon, the Act limits the general public’s access to books and other creative works.
Their arguments against the modern copyright regime are compelling and are the crux of the book. For example, the extension of post-mortem rights to seventy years has led to a vast amount of orphaned creative works. This occurs when authors pass away, and their heirs are unknown or unresponsive. As a result, publishers, leary of potential copyright litigation, are reluctant to revive what could potentially be a treasure trove of creative content.
However, the solutions offered by the authors are less convincing. They argue against the notion of copyright providing an incentive effect. They claim that authors and artists would be just as motivated to create valuable works even without royalty opportunities. The authors propose that alternative income streams would emerge, and artists would be eager to contribute to the "creative commons," exemplified by open-source software, even without meaningful financial compensation.
This reader was unconvinced. Such wholesale change is just as impractical as it is improbable, and their suggestions ultimately sound like a Marxist scheme to throw out the baby with the bathwater. They are correct in arguing that copyright law is too broad, too long, and too corporate, but incremental changes are much more practical.
Regardless of my take on the authors’ proposed solutions to these problems, the book is still an outstanding and accessible history of copyright and intellectual property. They are excellent guides if you lack a law degree but still want to understand how intellectual property laws came to be and how they work.