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Writers are people, too, my friend: The case against Internet pirates
Writers and copyright on the Internet
Tom Purdom
Ursula K. Le Guin is best known for her award winning Wizard of Earthsea novels for young adults and her Worlds of the Ekumen science fiction series. I've treasured her work ever since she made her first big splash 50 years ago. Then three years ago she strung together ten words that had a major impact on my attitude toward one of the biggest issues facing contemporary writers.
Le Guin included the words in an online petition that opposed the "Google Settlement"— a complicated issue, involving author's rights to works reproduced online, that I will make no attempt to explain here. The signers, the petition said, were all professional writers "who make part or all their living from their copyrights."
That phrase— "part or all their living"— may seem innocuous, but it jumped out at me when I read the petition. Like most writers who write and sell fiction, I've looked at websites that distribute my work, and the work of hundreds of others, without any compensation for the words they hijack. Writers who complain about this assault on their incomes are assailed by internet gurus declaiming "Information wants to be free!" and advising us we "don't get the Internet."
But the most irritating apologists for internet piracy are the solons who like to remind us that most writers earn less than $5,000 a year from their writing, according to the Internal Revenue Service. Since most writers are merely earning a little money on the side, the argument runs, why should they object if electronic buccaneers slice a few bucks off that trivial sum?
The IRS attitude
Writers often support this attitude with the language they choose to describe themselves. "I'm a writer," they'll say, "but I earn my living proofreading technical manuals.
The money they make writing, in other words, doesn't count. It's not part of their "living."
But the IRS takes a different attitude. Every cent I earn from writing— yes, even my token fees from BSR— gets reported every year on Line 12 of Form 1040, in the section headed "Income." I've been filling out that line for five decades, and I'd find myself in serious trouble if I didn't.
In the view of an official agency of the U.S. government, the money I make writing is part of my income, just like any money I earn from other sources. The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania takes a similar position, which it communicates to me through a similar request on its forms.
Trollope's day job
Why should writers think otherwise? Why should they disregard the opinion of their elected government and lamely concede that the money they make writing is so unimportant that they shouldn't fret if some Internet guru posts their work on a website and lets the world have it free of charge?
Many writers do support themselves from their work. My own field of science fiction maintains a number of writers who've achieved that holy state. Mystery, romance and other genres contribute their share. But part-time writers too have occupied an honored place in the literary world for as long as writers have sold their work. Anthony Trollope isn't the only famous novelist who received a civil service check for most of his life.
Consider a writer who's making that fabulous $5,000 a year by writing. Suppose she's making $44,000 at a salaried job— the average salary of a public school teacher. Would you tell someone who's making $44,000 that she should be willing to give up $5,000 without complaint? Would you argue that an extra hundred a week is so miniscule that she shouldn't worry about it?
Hemingway's drinking money
We've all known people who pick up extra money working at a second job. No one suggests the money from that second job is so unimportant they should be willing to work for free. Why should people who spend their evenings and weekends writing be considered any different?
Many part-time writers are beginners who hope to develop into full-timers. In most cases, they can only achieve that goal by building up a backlog of published works that brings in royalties and reprint fees. They can't do that, obviously, if pirates start distributing their work gratis the day after it's published.
The backlog plays a major role in many writers' economic lives. Ernest Hemingway's short stories, when they first appeared in print, earned him drinking money, at best. But the books containing his collected short stories generated royalties throughout his life.
A penny a word
Ray Bradbury sold most of his short stories to the penny-a-word pulps when he began in the 1940s; but collected into The Martian Chronicles and other books, they were still bringing him money when he died.
If some ambitious young person launches a career by working long hours at low pay, most Americans will agree that he's doing something laudable. The young part-time writers who are making their first sales deserve the same respect. They shouldn't be considered fair game for every cyberpunk who posts their work on the Internet without their permission, on the ground that he's liberating suffering information.
The copyright haters like to pretend that copyrights are owned by soulless corporations. But the copyrights to most books and short stories are, in fact, owned by individuals— real people, with ambitions, dreams and financial needs. Readers should keep that in mind when they consider downloading copyrighted material "for free."♦
To read a response, click here.
Le Guin included the words in an online petition that opposed the "Google Settlement"— a complicated issue, involving author's rights to works reproduced online, that I will make no attempt to explain here. The signers, the petition said, were all professional writers "who make part or all their living from their copyrights."
That phrase— "part or all their living"— may seem innocuous, but it jumped out at me when I read the petition. Like most writers who write and sell fiction, I've looked at websites that distribute my work, and the work of hundreds of others, without any compensation for the words they hijack. Writers who complain about this assault on their incomes are assailed by internet gurus declaiming "Information wants to be free!" and advising us we "don't get the Internet."
But the most irritating apologists for internet piracy are the solons who like to remind us that most writers earn less than $5,000 a year from their writing, according to the Internal Revenue Service. Since most writers are merely earning a little money on the side, the argument runs, why should they object if electronic buccaneers slice a few bucks off that trivial sum?
The IRS attitude
Writers often support this attitude with the language they choose to describe themselves. "I'm a writer," they'll say, "but I earn my living proofreading technical manuals.
The money they make writing, in other words, doesn't count. It's not part of their "living."
But the IRS takes a different attitude. Every cent I earn from writing— yes, even my token fees from BSR— gets reported every year on Line 12 of Form 1040, in the section headed "Income." I've been filling out that line for five decades, and I'd find myself in serious trouble if I didn't.
In the view of an official agency of the U.S. government, the money I make writing is part of my income, just like any money I earn from other sources. The Commonwealth of Pennsylvania takes a similar position, which it communicates to me through a similar request on its forms.
Trollope's day job
Why should writers think otherwise? Why should they disregard the opinion of their elected government and lamely concede that the money they make writing is so unimportant that they shouldn't fret if some Internet guru posts their work on a website and lets the world have it free of charge?
Many writers do support themselves from their work. My own field of science fiction maintains a number of writers who've achieved that holy state. Mystery, romance and other genres contribute their share. But part-time writers too have occupied an honored place in the literary world for as long as writers have sold their work. Anthony Trollope isn't the only famous novelist who received a civil service check for most of his life.
Consider a writer who's making that fabulous $5,000 a year by writing. Suppose she's making $44,000 at a salaried job— the average salary of a public school teacher. Would you tell someone who's making $44,000 that she should be willing to give up $5,000 without complaint? Would you argue that an extra hundred a week is so miniscule that she shouldn't worry about it?
Hemingway's drinking money
We've all known people who pick up extra money working at a second job. No one suggests the money from that second job is so unimportant they should be willing to work for free. Why should people who spend their evenings and weekends writing be considered any different?
Many part-time writers are beginners who hope to develop into full-timers. In most cases, they can only achieve that goal by building up a backlog of published works that brings in royalties and reprint fees. They can't do that, obviously, if pirates start distributing their work gratis the day after it's published.
The backlog plays a major role in many writers' economic lives. Ernest Hemingway's short stories, when they first appeared in print, earned him drinking money, at best. But the books containing his collected short stories generated royalties throughout his life.
A penny a word
Ray Bradbury sold most of his short stories to the penny-a-word pulps when he began in the 1940s; but collected into The Martian Chronicles and other books, they were still bringing him money when he died.
If some ambitious young person launches a career by working long hours at low pay, most Americans will agree that he's doing something laudable. The young part-time writers who are making their first sales deserve the same respect. They shouldn't be considered fair game for every cyberpunk who posts their work on the Internet without their permission, on the ground that he's liberating suffering information.
The copyright haters like to pretend that copyrights are owned by soulless corporations. But the copyrights to most books and short stories are, in fact, owned by individuals— real people, with ambitions, dreams and financial needs. Readers should keep that in mind when they consider downloading copyrighted material "for free."♦
To read a response, click here.
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