đŸ Archived View for library.inu.red âș file âș kevin-carson-intellectual-property.gmi captured on 2023-01-29 at 11:50:06. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
âĄïž Next capture (2024-06-20)
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Title: âIntellectual Propertyâ Author: Kevin Carson Date: May 14, 2009 Language: en Topics: intellectual property, critique, economics, c4ss Source: Retrieved on 30th August 2021 from https://c4ss.org/content/521
âIntellectual propertyâ is a contentious issue among libertarians. Among
the individualist anarchists alone, Lysander Spooner took an absolutist
position in favor of patents and copyrights, defending them as binding
in perpetuity, [1] whereas Benjamin Tucker classified them as one of his
Four Monopolies.
Fourth, the patent monopoly, which consists in protecting inventors and
authors against competition for a period long enough to enable them to
extort from the people a reward enormously in excess of the labor
measure of their services, â in other words, in giving certain people a
right of property for a term of years in laws and facts of Nature, and
the power to exact tribute from others for the use of this natural
wealth, which should be open to all. The abolition of this monopoly
would fill its beneficiaries with a wholesome fear of competition which
would cause them to be satisfied with pay for their services equal to
that which other laborers get for theirs, and to secure it by placing
their products and works on the market at the outset at prices so low
that their lines of business would be no more tempting to competitors
than any other lines. [2]
Although Tucker relegated âintellectual propertyâ to last place among
the Four Monopolies, he considered them entirely in terms of their
effect on individual exchange, rather than of their effect on industrial
structure, or of the structural and institutional relationships between
business and the state. This problem of emphasis was a general failing
of Tuckerâs. After 1900, for example, when he finally began to recognize
the trusts as a problem, he assumed they had grown beyond the point at
which eliminating the money, landlord, and other monopolies would do any
good in reining them in; he ignored entirely the great extent of their
dependence, as institutions, on direct subsidies and other structural
ties to the state. But in fairness to Tucker, at the time he wrote the
passage quoted above the corporate transformation of the economy was
just getting well underway, and the effect of âintellectual propertyâ
still fell primarily at the level of individual exchange.
Ayn Rand regarded patents and copyrights as âthe legal implementation of
the base of all property rights: a manâs right to the product of his
mind.â
What the patent and copyright laws acknowledge is the paramount role of
mental effort in the production of material values; these laws protect
the mindâs contribution in its purest form: the origination of an idea.
The subject of patents and copyrights is intellectual property.
An idea as such cannot be protected until it has been given a material
form. An invention has to be embodied in a physical model before it can
be patented; a story has to be written or printed. But what the patent
or copyright protects is not the physical object as such, but the idea
which it embodies. By forbidding an unauthorized reproduction of the
object, the law declares, in effect, that the physical labor of copying
is not the source of the objectâs value, that that value is created by
the originator of the idea and may not be used without his consent; thus
the law establishes the property right of a mind to that which it has
brought into existence. [3]
Despite her defense of âintellectual propertyâ as a property right
rooted in natural law, interestingly, Rand did not pursue the principle
consistently to the same logical conclusion as Spooner. Rather than
treating it as a right in perpetuity comparable to tangible property
rights, to devolve to oneâs heirs and assigns without limits, she
dismissed perpetual duration as an obvious impossibility. Instead, she
considered the positive lawâs provisions for copyright and patent
duration as âthe most rational solutionâŠ.â [4]
Perhaps the most absurd development of âintellectual propertyâ
absolutism was that of Andrew Galambos. As Stephan Kinsella notes, â[i]t
is difficult to find published discussions of Galambosâs idea,
apparently because his own theories bizarrely restrict the ability of
his supporters to disseminate themâ; [5] students attending his classes
were required to sign non-disclosure agreements promising not to
circulate his ideas outside the circle of paying customers [6] (a rule
which would seem to doom a movement to extinction about as effectively
as the Shakersâ ban on sexual intercourse). Galambos reputedly dropped a
nickel in a box for the heirs of Thomas Paine every time he used the
word âliberty,â and juxtaposed his first and middle names to avoid
infringing on his fatherâs âintellectual propertyâ rights in his name.
[7] If he paid royalties on the alphabet to the Tyre Chamber of
Commerce, there is no record of it.
Among the Austrians, Ludwig von Mises, no market anarchist, took a
largely agnostic attitude toward the legitimacy of patents. As a purely
utilitarian assessment of their effect, he argued that they enabled
sellers to charge a monopoly price for goods that might not have been
offered at all without the use of patents to recoup the cost of
development. [8]
Murray Rothbard, on the other hand, was not shy in his denunciation of
patents as a fundamental violation of free market principles:
Patents prevent a man from using his invention even though all the
property is his and he has not stolen the invention, either explicitly
or implicitly, from the first inventor. Patents, therefore, are grants
of exclusive monopoly privilege by the State and are invasive of
property rights on the market. [9]
Rothbard dismissed utilitarian arguments for patents, based on claims
that they are socially necessary to promote innovation, with the
contempt they deserved:
The most popular argument for patents among economists is the
utilitarian one that a patent for a certain number of years is necessary
to encourage a sufficient amount of research expenditure for inventions
and innovations in processes and products.
This is a curious argument, because the question immediately arises: By
what standard do you judge that research expenditures are âtoo much,â
âtoo little,â or just about enough? This is a problem faced by every
governmental intervention in the marketâs production. Resources â the
better lands, laborers, capital goods, time â in society are limited,
and they may be used for countless alternative ends. By what standard
does someone assert that certain uses are âexcessive,â that certain uses
are âinsufficient,â etc.?âŠ
Many advocates of patents believe that the ordinary competitive
conditions of the market do not sufficiently encourage the adoption of
new processes and that therefore innovations must be coercively promoted
by the government. But the market decides on the rate of introduction of
new processes just as it decides on the rate of industrialization of a
new geographic area. In fact, this argument for patents is very similar
to the infant-industry argument for tariffs â that market processes are
not sufficient to permit the introduction of worthwhile new processes.
And the answer to both these arguments is the same: that people must
balance the superior productivity of the new processes against the cost
of installing them, i.e., against the advantage possessed by the old
process in being already built and in existence. Coercively privileging
innovation would needlessly scrap valuable plants already in existence
and impose an excessive burden upon consumers. For consumersâ desires
would not be satisfied in the most economic manner. [10]
This is, incidentally, the same sort of argument used for eminent
domain, when property is seized for the use of a business that will be
âmore valuableâ to the local economy.
If Rothbard rejected patents in principle, he considered copyright to be
perfectly tenable and legitimate, on the assumption that it could be
achieved through voluntary contract alone.
A man writes a book or composes music. When he publishes the book or
sheet of music, he imprints on the first page the word âcopyright.â This
indicates that any man who agrees to purchase this product also agrees
as part of the exchange not to recopy or reproduce this work for sale.
In other words, the author does not sell his property outright to the
buyer; he sells it on condition that the buyer not reproduce it for
sale. Since the buyer does not buy the property outright, but only on
this condition, any infringement of the contract by him or a subsequent
buyer is implicit theft and would be treated accordingly on the free
market. The copyright is therefore a logical device of property right on
the free market. [11]
But the sort of contractual copyright regime Rothbard envisioned would,
in fact, be practically untenable.
First, as Kinsella points out, contracts are only binding against the
actual parties, so contractual copyright would be unenforceable against
third parties who came into possession of copyrighted material. [12]
Second, there are serious practical questions about the legal
enforceability of contractual copyright â so-called âshrink wrapâ
contracts â even against the accepting party. Pseudonymous blogger
âquasibill,â of The Bell Tower, writes of the serious problems the
common law âmeeting of the mindsâ requirement entails for contract
enforcement in general.
As an initial matter, it is important to clarify that a contract is not
a written document. For reasons that should become more apparent as you
read on, the written document is nothing more than very good evidence
regarding the terms of the contract. It is the agreement of the parties,
or to use Anglo-American common law terminology, the âmeeting of the
mindsâ that is the actual contract. As such, the contract is a
subjective creature by nature, as it requires reading the minds of at
least two people.
âŠ.The words written on a document do not constitute the agreement â they
are merely evidence of what the parties intended the agreement to beâŠ.
In particular, he mentions that courts generally recur to external
evidence like standard market practices (âcourse of industryâ) to
ascertain subjective understanding or intent, in determining whether a
âmeeting of mindsâ took place and an enforceable contractual obligation
therefore exists. [13]
By this line of reasoning, both the sellerâs and the buyerâs reasonable
expectations in regard to enforceability will play a large role in
determining whether the buyer did, indeed, assume contractual copyright
obligations by the mere act of purchase. In an environment where
verifying compliance is costly and the risks of detection and sanction
are low, it is unlikely that either a buyer, or a court after the fact,
will take any such contract seriously.
By way of analogy, some employers may demand, as a condition of
employment, that their employees not smoke even in their own homes, that
they refrain from barroom discussions prejudicial to the employerâs
reputation, or that they not park on company premises with a weapon
concealed in the trunk. In most such cases, the employee is likely to
sign an acknowledgement form and accept the job with his fingers
crossed, and with the mental reservation that itâs ânone of their damned
business.â If a job application asks questions that the prospective
employee considers inappropriately nosy or intrusive (i.e. about
political sympathies, social affiliations, and the like), he is likely
to take the attitude that itâs the prospective employerâs problem to
find out such things at his own effort and expense if he wants to know
them badly enough; he is under no obligation to incriminate himself.
Kinsella has expressed skepticism, on similar grounds, regarding the
enforceability of shrink-wrap and click-wrap contracts:
âŠ.[T]here is often no meeting of the minds on the fine print. If the
customers routinely just click the âI have read and agree to these
termsâ box but never do read it, and the vendor knows this, then itâs a
sort of fiction to assume both sides have actually agreed on these
termsâŠ. [14]
âŠ.I believe two consenting parties have the right to enter into whatever
terms they want, even if they are stricter and more draconian than those
set by modern IP law. âŠ[But] I do not believe that something is part of
the agreement merely because it is written down in the fine print of a
click-wrap or similar type agreement; there needs to be true meeting of
the minds (for example, suppose I sneak into the last clause of a long
click-wrap agreement, âAnd the purchaser hereby agrees to give me half
his income for the rest of his life.â Well, I know that you are just
gonna click âyesâ without reading, so I am aware that you are NOT
consenting to this term, so there is no meeting of the minds; that
should not be enforceable, and arguably neither should boilerplate,
âunreasonableâ terms in fine print that the publisher knows the customer
is not even really aware of). [15]
Third, the enforcement of contractual copyright, even if enforceable in
law, would present enormous problems for verification of compliance. The
enormous and draconian body of copyright legislation over the past
twenty years should indicate that enforcement of copyright requires an
intrusive regulatory and surveillance state, and that copyright is
virtually unenforceable without such a mechanism.
The new digital copyright regime has done away with many traditional
limitations on copyright from the days when it affected mainly the print
medium, like the âfirst saleâ and âfair useâ doctrines. We can thank the
traditional exceptions to copyright, for example, for the public library
and for free access to photocopiers.
Charles Johnson gives, as an example of the fair use exception, the
common university practice of making course reserves available for
photocopying, rather than expecting every student to buy a scholarly
book at the academic publishing housesâ steep rates. (I myself have
numerous photocopies of books ordered through Interlibrary Loan, which
would otherwise have cost me $70 or more, often for slim volumes of
under two hundred pages.) But, he says,
as soon as the University eliminates the paper medium, and facilitates
exactly the same thing through an non-commercial, internal University
course pack website â which does nothing at all more than what the xerox
packets did, except that it delivers the information to pixels on a
monitor instead of toner on a page â the publishersâ racket can run to
court, throw up its arms, and start hollering Computers! Internet!, send
their lawyers to try to shake down have a discussion with the University
administration for new tribute to their monopoly business model, and
then, failing that, utterly uncontroversial decades-old practices of
sharing knowledge among colleagues and students suddenly become a legal
case raising core issues like the future of the business model for
academic publishers, while even the most absurd protectionist arguments
are dutifully repeated by legal flacks on behalf of sustaining the
racketâŠ. [16]
In the case of digital content, especially, copyright would be virtually
unenforceable without not only DRM, but the criminalization of technical
means for circumventing it. Imagine buying a car on the contractual
understanding that you wouldnât drive it to certain places that the
dealership disapproved. In the real world, such a contract would be a
dead letter because of the high cost of verifying compliance. But if the
contract were governed by the legal regime prevailing in the digital
content industries, the car would be designed with built-in blocks
against driving the car to forbidden places. And not only that, such
blocks would be mandated by law, and developing and selling means to
circumvent them would be criminal acts. Doesnât sound very libertarian,
does it?
In âThe Right to Read,â Richard Stallman depicted the inevitable logic
of such principles, as depicted in a late 21^(st) century society under
total copyright lockdown.
if he lent her his computer, she might read his books. Aside from the
fact that you could go to prison for many years for letting someone else
read your books, the very idea shocked him at first. Like everyone, he
had been taught since elementary school that sharing books was nasty and
wrong â something that only pirates would do.
And there wasnât much chance that the SPA â the Software Protection
Authority â would fail to catch him. In his software class, Dan had
learned that each book had a copyright monitor that reported when and
where it was read, and by whom, to Central Licensing. (They used this
information to catch reading pirates, but also to sell personal interest
profiles to retailers.)âŠ
Of course, Lissa did not necessarily intend to read his books. She might
want the computer only to write her midterm. But Dan knew she came from
a middle-class family and could hardly afford the tuition, let alone her
reading fees. Reading his books might be the only way she could
graduate. He understood this situation; he himself had had to borrow to
pay for all the research papers he readâŠ.
Later on, Dan would learn there was a time when anyone could go to the
library and read journal articles, and even books, without having to
pay. There were independent scholars who read thousands of pages without
government library grants. But in the 1990s, both commercial and
nonprofit journal publishers had begun charging fees for access. By
2047, libraries offering free public access to scholarly literature were
a dim memory.
There were ways, of course, to get around the SPA and Central Licensing.
They were themselves illegal. Dan had had a classmate in software, Frank
Martucci, who had obtained an illicit debugging tool, and used it to
skip over the copyright monitor code when reading books. But he had told
too many friends about it, and one of them turned him in to the SPA for
a reward (students deep in debt were easily tempted into betrayal). In
2047, Frank was in prison, not for pirate reading, but for possessing a
debugger.
Dan would later learn that there was a time when anyone could have
debugging tools. There were even free debugging tools available on CD or
downloadable over the net. But ordinary users started using them to
bypass copyright monitors, and eventually a judge ruled that this had
become their principal use in actual practice. This meant they were
illegal; the debuggersâ developers were sent to prison.
Programmers still needed debugging tools, of course, but debugger
vendors in 2047 distributed numbered copies only, and only to officially
licensed and bonded programmers. The debugger Dan used in software class
was kept behind a special firewall so that it could be used only for
class exercises.
It was also possible to bypass the copyright monitors by installing a
modified system kernel. Dan would eventually find out about the free
kernels, even entire free operating systems, that had existed around the
turn of the century. But not only were they illegal, like debuggers â
you could not install one if you had one, without knowing your
computerâs root password. And neither the FBI nor Microsoft Support
would tell you that. [17]
Thereâs a reason for such draconian controls. As described by Michel
Bauwens of the Foundation for Peer-to-Peer Alternatives, the corporate
economy faces a growing crisis of realization, in monetizing and
capturing profits from use-value created in the immaterial realm. It is
becoming increasingly impossible to capture value from the ownership of
ideas, designs, and technique â all the âephemeraâ and âintellectâ that
Tom Peters writes about as a component of commodity price â leading to a
crisis of sustainability for capitalism.
Recall the following: the thesis of cognitive capitalism says that we
have entered a new phase of capitalism based on the accumulation of
knowledge assets, rather than physical production tools. [McKenzie
Warkâs] vectoralist thesis says that a new class has arisen which
controls the vectors of information, i.e. the means through which
information and creative products have to pass, for them to realize
their exchange value. They both describe the processes of the last 40
years, say the post-1968 period, which saw a furious competition through
knowledge-based competition and for the acquisition of knowledge assets,
which led to the extraordinary weakening of the scientific and technical
commons. And they do this rather well.
But in my opinion, both theses fail to account for the newest of the
new, i.e. to take into account the emergence of peer to peer as social
format. What is happening?
In terms of knowledge creation, a vast new information commons is being
created, which is increasingly out of the control of cognitive
capitalism. [18]
In a later blog post for the P2P Foundation, Bauwens elaborated on the
nature of cognitive capitalism as a response to the limits on
accumulation in the finite physical realm, attempting a new form of
accumulation based on ownership of the cognitive realm. But this attempt
is doomed to fail because of the increasing untenability of property
rights in the information realm. Various resource and input crises like
Peak Oil, he wrote, are creating new limits to growth based on extensive
expansion in the physical realm. He compares the imperative for
capitalism to switch from extensive to intensive development to the
parallel crisis of the chattel slave economy.
This is no trivial affair, as the failure of extensive development is
what brought down earlier civilizations and modes of production. For
example, slavery was not only marked by low productivity, but could not
extend this productivity as that would require making the slaves more
autonomous, so slave-based empires had to grow in space, but at a
certain point in that growth, the cost of expansion exceeded the
benefits. This is why feudalism finally emerged, a system which
refocused on the local, and allowed productivity growth as serfs had a
self-interest in growing and ameliorating the tools of production.
The alternative to extensive development is intensive development, as
happened in the transition from slavery to feudalism. But notice that to
do this, the system had to change, the core logic was no longer the
same. The dream of our current economy is therefore one of intensive
development, to grow in the immaterial field, and this is basically what
the experience economy means. The hope that it expresses is that
business can simply continue to grow in the immaterial field of
experience.
However, Bauwens writes, this is not feasible. The emergence of the peer
model of production, based on the non-rivalrous nature and virtually
non-existent marginal cost of reproduction of digital information, and
coupled with the increasing unenforceability of âintellectual propertyâ
laws, means that capital is incapable of realizing returns on ownership
in the cognitive realm.
In other words, we have a growing discrepancy between the direct
creation of use value through social relationships and collective
intelligenceâŠ, but only a fraction of that value can actually be
captured by business and money. Innovation is becoming⊠an emergent
property of the networks rather than an internal R & D affair within
corporations; capital is becoming an a posteriori intervention in the
realization of innovation, rather than a condition for its occurrenceâŠ.
What this announces is a crisis of valueâŠ, but also essentially a crisis
of accumulation of capital. Furthermore, we lack a mechanism for the
existing institutional world to re-fund what it receives from the social
world. So on top of all of that, we have a crisis of social
reproductionâŠ. [19]
Corporations rely on increasingly authoritarian government legislation
to capture value from proprietary information. Johann Soderberg compares
the way photocopiers were monitored in the old USSR, to protect the
power of elites in that country, to the way the means of digital
reproduction are monitored in this country to protect corporate power.
[20]
The good news in all this is that, even with the upward ratcheting of
âintellectual propertyâ law and of the mandated electronic surveillance
technologies for enforcing it, it is still becoming unenforceable. In an
age of bittorrent, strong encryption, and proxy servers hosted in
international anti-copyright havens, the DMCA is a dead letter for
anyone who cares enough to take even minimal trouble to circumvent it.
A good example is the so-called âDeCSS uprising,â which followed from an
attempt to suppress public discussion of means for circumventing DVD
encryption.
Journalist Eric Corley â better known as Emmanuel Goldstein, a nom de
plume borrowed from Orwellâs 1984 â posted the code for DeCSS (so called
because it decrypts the Content Scrambling System that encrypts DVDs) as
a part of a story he wrote in November for the well-known hacker journal
2600. The Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) claims that
Corley defied anticircumvention provisions of the Digital Millennium
Copyright Act (DMCA) by posting the offending codeâŠ.
The whole affair began when teenager Jon Johansen wrote DeCSS in order
to view DVDs on a Linux machine. The MPAA has since brought suit against
him in his native Norway as well. Johansen testified on Thursday that he
announced the successful reverse engineering of a DVD on the mailing
list of the Linux Video and DVD Project (LiViD), a user resource center
for video- and DVD- related work for LinuxâŠ.
The judge in the case, the honorable Lewis Kaplan of the US District
Court in southern New York, issued a preliminary injunction against
posting DeCSS. Corley duly took down the code, but did not help his
defense by defiantly linking to myriad sites which post DeCSSâŠ.
True to their hacker beliefs, Corley supporters came to the trial
wearing the DeCSS code on t-shirts. There are also over 300 Websites
that still link to the decryption code, many beyond the reach of the
MPAA. [21]
This incident, and the humiliating failure of so many other corporate
attempts â starting with the âMcLibelâ case in the UK â to suppress the
free circulation of proprietary information or supposedly libelous
statements, [22] should demonstrate this beyond the shadow of a doubt.
Every such attempt, inevitably, results in the rapid transfer of files
of prohibited information around the Worldwide Web, and the
proliferation of mirror sites, orders of magnitude faster than content
owners can suppress any particular violator. The would-be corporate
proprietors of information find themselves playing whack-a-mole.
And in the offensive-defensive arms race between the statist
surveillance technologies required to enforce proprietary content, and
the circumvention technologies needed to trade such content freely, the
defensive side will always be a step ahead. Ultimately, the legal
suppression of âpiracyâ by the surveillance state depends on the same
sort of people who are responsible for delivering your mail to the
correct address â which means things donât look very hopeful for the
enemies of freedom.
If the DMCA is unenforceable even with state-mandated DRM and
criminalization of technical means of circumvention, and even with
taxpayer subsidy to the legal cost of enforcement, what would become of
such extensive copyright claims in a free market regime? In a free
market regime, where enforcement of such claims is a private good
provided at cost, the payment of contractual copyright enforcement would
be endogenous â i.e., the cost would be borne by the beneficiary of
enforcement.
âIntellectual propertyâ is a form of privilege, just one example of a
broader category of artificial property rights.
Like all forms of coercion, artificial property rights create a zero-sum
situation in which one party benefits at the otherâs expense. There is a
symmetrical relationship between one partyâs benefit and the otherâs
loss. While natural property rights benefit everyone by securing the
individualâs claim to the product of his own effort, artificial property
rights enable the holder to collect tribute from the efforts of others.
Natural property rights are a way of dealing with scarcity; artificial
property rights create scarcity.
The distinction between natural and artificial property rights is
analogous to that of Albert Jay Nock between âlabor-madeâ and âlaw-madeâ
property. [23] Were it not for the legal appropriation of the land, Nock
argued â i.e., the engrossment of vacant and unimproved land to a
favored class which did not appropriate it by its own labor, but was
enabled to collect tribute from those who did â economic exploitation
would be impossible. Historically, so long as wage employers have to
compete with easy access to self-employment, there is a floor under the
wages people are willing to work for and a ceiling on the rate of
profit. As Kropotkin asked:
If every peasant-farmer had a piece of land, free from rent and taxes,
if he had in addition the tools and the stock necessary for farm labour
â Who would plough the lands of the baron? Everyone would look after his
ownâŠ.
If all the men and women in the countryside had their daily bread
assured, and their daily needs already satisfied, who would work for our
capitalist at a wage of half a crown a day, while the commodities one
produces in a day sell in the market for a crown or more? [24]
Defenders of âintellectual propertyâ argue that the innovator deserves
the scarcity rents, as a reward for the net contribution to consumersâ
utility. If the consumer does not consider the innovation a benefit even
at the patented price, he is free not to buy it. Reason magazineâs
Ronald Bailey, an enthusiastic supporter of the drug and biotech
industries, is a good exemplar of this line of argument. Citing a study
that compared the overall economic value to consumers from increased
life expectancy to the cost paid for drugs, he argued (in the words of
his title) that âdrug companies donât get enough money⊠for the
life-saving benefits they give usâŠ.â [25]
Thereâs a word for someone whoâs able to price a good according to the
consumerâs benefit from it: a monopolist. The normal effect of market
competition is for the productivity benefits of new technology to
translate directly into lower consumer prices. It is only through
artificial property rights that privileged sellers can charge the
consumer in proportion to his increased utility, regardless of the cost
of supplying the good. Patents impede the normal process of market
competition by which technological innovation translates directly into
lower consumer cost. They enable the privileged to appropriate
productivity gains for themselves, rather than allowing their benefits
to be socialized through market competition.
But they do more than that: they make it possible to collect tribute for
the âserviceâ of not obstructing production. As John R. Commons
observed, the alleged âserviceâ performed by the holder of artificial
property rights, in âcontributingâ some âfactorâ to production, is
defined entirely by his ability to obstruct access to it. As I wrote in
Studies in Mutualist Political Economy, marginalist economics
treated the existing structure of property rights over âfactorsâ as a
given, and proceeded to show how the product would be distributed among
these âfactorsâ according to their marginal contribution. By this
method, if slavery were still extant, a marginalist might with a
straight face write of the marginal contribution of the slave to the
product (imputed, of course, to the slaveowner), and of the âopportunity
costâ involved in committing the slave to one or another use. [26]
Such privileges, Maurice Dobb argued, were analogous to a state grant of
authority to collect tolls, (much like the medieval robber barons who
obstructed commerce between their petty principalities):
Suppose that tollgates were a general institution, rooted in custom or
ancient legal right. Could it reasonably be denied that there would be
an important sense in which the income of the tollowning class
represented âan appropriation of goods produced by othersâ and not
payment for an âactivity directed to the production or transformation of
economic goods?â Yet tollcharges would be fixed in competition with
alternative roadways, and hence would, presumably, represent prices
fixed âin an open marketâŠ.â Would not the opening and shutting of
tollgates become an essential factor of production, according to most
current definitions of a factor of production, with as much reason at
any rate as many of the functions of the capitalist entrepreneur are so
classed today? This factor, like others, could then be said to have a
âmarginal productivityâ and its price be regarded as the measure and
equivalent of the service it rendered. At any rate, where is a logical
line to be drawn between tollgates and propertyrights over scarce
resources in general? [27]
Thorstein Veblen made a similar distinction between property as
capitalized serviceability, versus capitalized disserviceability. The
latter consisted of power advantages over rivals and the public which
enabled owners to obstruct production. [28]
It is sometimes argued, in response to attacks on patents as monopolies,
that âall property is a monopoly.â True, as far as it goes; but tangible
property is a monopoly by the nature of the case. A parcel of land can
only be occupied and used by one owner at a time, because it is finite.
By nature, two people cannot occupy the same physical space at the same
time. âIntellectual property,â in contrast, is an artificial monopoly
where scarcity would not otherwise exist. And unlike property in
tangible goods and land, the defense of which is a necessary outgrowth
of the attempt to maintain possession, enforcement of âproperty rightsâ
in ideas requires the invasion of someone elseâs space. âPatents⊠invade
rather than defend property rights.â [29]
Kinsella describes the way that socalled âintellectual propertyâ rights
give the holder a right in other peopleâs real â tangible â property. An
âintellectual propertyâ right implies that
âA person who comes up with some useful or creative idea which can guide
or direct an actor in the use of his own tangible property thereby
instantly gains a right to control all other tangible property in the
world, with respect to that propertyâs similar use.â This new-fangled
homesteading technique is so powerful that it gives the creator rights
in third partiesâ already owned tangible property.
For example, by inventing a new technique for digging a well, the
inventor can prevent all others in the world from digging wells in this
manner, even on their own property. To take another example, imagine the
time when men lived in caves. One bright guy â letâs call him GaltMagnon
â decides to build a log cabin on an open field, near his crops. To be
sure, this is a good idea, and others notice it. They naturally imitate
GaltMagnon, and they start building their own cabins. But the first man
to invent a house, according to IP advocates, would have a right to
prevent others from building houses on their own land, with their own
logs, or to charge them a fee if they do build houses. It is plain that
the innovator in these examples becomes a partial owner of the tangible
property (e.g., land and logs) of others, due not to first occupation
and use of that property (for it is already owned), but due to his
coming up with an idea.
Dilbert creator Scott Adams, in a rather feeble attempt to defend
copyright, used the analogy of underpants:
Let me give you an analogy. Letâs say your neighbor sneaks into your
house while you are gone and borrows your underpants. After wearing your
underpants all day, the neighbor launders them, folds them neatly, and
returns them to your house in perfect condition, all while you are gone.
He tells himself that he will say good things to people about your
business â whatever business that is â so this arrangement is good
publicity for you. The next time he sees you, he tells you about the
underpants because he figures youâll thank him for saying nice things
about his business. He informs you that itâs a win-win scenario.
Given that you have full use of your property (the underpants), is it a
victimless crime? I would say the owner of the underpants lost something
even though his property is physically the same. [30]
This is a remarkably poor analogy. Underpants are a physical object that
can only be in one place at a time. When the neighbor borrows my
underpants, I no longer have that particular pair in my possession any
more. His use of them logically precludes my being able to use them.
Physical property is a zero-sum game, in which one personâs possession
necessarily comes at the expense of everyone elseâs possession. That is
exactly why property rights are a logical conflict avoidance mechanism
for physical property: given the fact that a physical object can only be
possessed by one person at a time, property rules establish who the
rightful owner is and prevent conflict between multiple claimants trying
to possess the same thing at the same time. For underpants to be a good
analogy, they would have to be reproducible at zero marginal cost so
that the same identical pair of underpants could be in ten million
dresser drawers at the same time, without the original owner ever losing
physical possession of his pair of underpants.
A more accurate analogy would be to suppose that I could cause an exact
duplicate of Adamsâ underpants, created from atoms in my own house, to
appear in my own underwear drawer entirely through publicly available
knowledge of the configuration of atoms in the original pair, without
ever trespassing in Adamsâ home or disturbing his particular pair of
underpants in any way.
Adamsâ real objection, obviously, is not to the deprivation of the thing
itself or its use in any sense, but to loss of the economic value of
artistic creations that would result from his sole legal right to sell
them. But as Kinsella argues, âone cannot have a right to the value of
oneâs property, but only in its physical integrity.â [31] One cannot
argue otherwise without accepting the premises of local zoning laws and
assorted aesthetic ordinances (against outbuildings, compost piles,
clotheslines, solar panels, front yard gardens, cars parked on lawns,
etc., etc.) designed to protect homeowners from a decline in their
âproperty values.â Oneâs primary right in a property is to its
unfettered use, not to cooperation by others in the maintenance of its
resale value. A law that restrains oneâs use and enjoyment of oneâs own
property, in order to maintain the market value of someone elseâs
property â and all in the name of âproperty rights,â no less â is
fundamentally perverse.
Blogger Mark Poncelet, incidentally, came up with a hilarious parody of
Adamsâ underpants analogy:
Letâs not forget that you never actually own your underpants (unless you
crochet them yourself. Just be very careful that you donât make a pair
that looks like someone elseâs. You could be liable for damages). Most
underpants makers only give you a license to wear them. When you âbuyâ
these underpants, some of that money goes to the person who designed
them. The rest goes to the company that massproduced them and the
company that shipped them. Some of that money finds its way to entities
who are preparing to sue you for wearing your underpants improperly.
I pay a subscription fee to a company that sends me underpants on
demand. I can wear them, but they get to choose how often I wear them,
and I canât wear similar underpants too many times in a row. When Iâm
done, I have to send the underpants back. This is a whole lot better
than some other methods of getting underpantsâŠ.
Buy your underpants from iTunes? At least you get to keep them! Yet be
prepared to have someone from Apple watch you put them on and take them
offâŠ.
Regardless of how you get your underpants, there are some brutal
realities to consider before you put them on. Like I mentioned above,
you donât own these underpants. Someone else does. Theyâre just giving
you permission to wear them. In return for this permission, they get to
decide a lot. [32]
Artificial property rights create irrationality by holding productive
resources out of use and creating maldistribution of purchasing power.
In the 1830s Thomas Hodgskin, writing in The Natural and Artificial
Right of Property Contrasted, noted the effect of artificial property
rights in land in holding productive land out of use and denying
opportunities to labor. When land is made artificially scarce to labor
by political appropriation of land, so that land owners are able to hold
vacant and unimproved land out of use, the landlord will not allow it to
come into use unless is is productive enough to support not only the
laborer himself but also the rentier. Projects like the draining of
marshes and cultivation of waste land, if homesteading were free, would
have amply repaid the laborer for his own labor, were not undertaken
because labor sufficient to support the laborer and his family in
comfort could not âobtain from them a sufficiency to pay profit, tithes,
rent, and taxes.â [33]
âIntellectual property,â likewise, enables the owner to hold productive
techniques out of use unless the would-be user is able to use them
productively enough to provide an acceptable return to the patent or
copyright holder, in addition to himself.
And as we shall see below, âintellectual propertyâ is responsible for a
phenomenon Tom Peters celebrated: the growing portion of the price of
goods comprised of âintellectâ and âephemera.â This is part of a larger
phenomenon, by which artificial scarcities, rents on artificial property
rights, and the inflated overhead costs imposed those things and by
other licensing and regulatory schemes, together erect barriers between
effort and subsistence.
By simultaneously increasing the threshold of labor required for
comfortable subsistence, and enabling the owners of artificial property
rights to derive unearned rentier incomes unrelated to any legitimate
effort, âintellectual propertyâ divorces effort from consumption and
creates a maldistribution of purchasing power. Regardless of oneâs views
of the operation of Sayâs Law in a free market, it is clear that
maldistribution of purchasing power is a very real problem under state
capitalism. Hodgskin anticipated this phenomenon almost a century before
J.A. Hobson or Keynes.
The wants of individuals which labour is intended to gratify, are the
natural guide to their exertions. The instant they are compelled to
labour for others, this guide forsakes them, and their exertions are
dictated by the greed and avarice, and false hopes of their masters. The
wants springing from our organization, and accompanying the power to
labour, being created by the same hand which creates and fashions the
whole universe, including the course of the seasons, and what the earth
brings forth, it is fair to suppose that they would at all times guide
the exertions of the labourer, so as fully to ensure a supply of
necessaries and conveniences, and nothing more. They have, as it were, a
prototype in nature, agreeing with other phenomena, but the avarice and
greed of masters have no such prototypeâŠ. By this system the hand is
dissevered from the mouth, and labour is put in motion to gratify vanity
and ambition, not the natural wants of animal existence. When we look at
the commercial history of our country, and see the false hopes of our
merchants and manufacturers leading to periodical commercial
convulsions, we are compelled to conclude, that they have not the same
source as the regular and harmonious external world. [34]
Domestic Economy
Patents promoted the stable control of markets by oligopoly firms
through the control, exchange and pooling of patents.
According to David Noble, two essentially new science-based industries
(those that âgrew out of the soil of scientific rather than traditional
craft knowledgeâ) emerged in the late 19^(th) century: the electrical
and chemical industries. [35]
In the electric industry, General Electric had its origins first in a
merger between Edison Electric (which controlled all of Edisonâs
electrical patents) and the Sprague Electric Railway and Motor Company,
and then in an 1892 merger between Edison General Electric and
Thomas-Houston â both of them motivated primarily by patent
considerations. In the latter case, in particular, Edison General
Electric and Thomas-Houston each needed patents owned by the others and
could not âdevelop lighting, railway or power equipment without fear of
infringement suits and injunctions.â [36] From the 1890s on, the
electrical industry was dominated by two large firms: GE and
Westinghouse, both of which owed their market shares largely to patent
control. In addition to the patents which they originally owned, they
acquired control over patents (and hence over much of the electrical
manufacturing market) through âacquisition of the patent rights of
individual inventors, acquisition of competing firms, mergers with
competitors, and the systematic and strategic development of their own
patentable inventions. As GE and Westinghouse together secured a
deadlock on the electrical industry through patent acquisition,
competition between them became increasingly intense and disruptive. By
1896 the litigation cost from some three hundred pending patent suits
was enormous, and the two companies agreed to form a joint Board of
Patent Control. General Electric and Westinghouse pooled their patents,
with GE handling 62.5% of the combined business. [37]
The structure of the telephone industry had similar origins, with the
Bell Patent Association forming âthe nucleus of the first Bell
industrial organizationâ (and eventually of AT&T) The National Bell
Telephone Company, from the 1880s on, fought vigorously to âoccupy the
fieldâ (in the words of general manager Theodore N. Vail) through patent
control. As Vail described the process, the company surrounded itself
with everything that would protect the business, that is the knowledge
of the business, all the auxiliary apparatus; a thousand and one little
patents and inventions with which to do the business which was
necessary, that is what we wanted to control and get possession of.
To achieve this, the company early on established an engineering
department
whose business it was to study the patents, study the development and
study these devices that either were originated by our own people or
came in to us from the outside. Then early in 1879 we started our patent
department, whose business was entirely to study the question of patents
that came out with a view to acquiring them, because⊠we recognized that
if we did not control these devices, somebody else would. [38]
This approach strengthened the companyâs position of control over the
market not only during the seventeen year period of the main patents,
but (as Frederick Fish put it in an address to the American Institute of
Electrical Engineers) during the subsequent seventeen years of
each and every one of the patents taken out on subsidiary methods and
devices invented during the progress of commercial development.
[Therefore] one of the first steps taken was to organize a corps of
inventive engineers to perfect and improve the telephone system in all
directions âŠthat by securing accessory inventions, possession of the
field might be retained as far as possible and for as long a time as
possible. [39]
This method, preemptive occupation of the market through strategic
patent acquisition and control, was also used by GE and Westinghouse.
Even with the intensified competition resulting from the expiration of
the original Bell patents in 1894, and before government favoritism in
the grants of rights-of-way and regulated monopoly status, the legacy
effect of AT&Tâs control of the secondary patents was sufficient to
secure them half the telephone market thirteen years later, in 1907.
[40] AT&T, anticipating the expiration of its original patents, had (to
quote Vail again) âsurrounded the business with all the auxiliary
protection that was possible.â For example, the company in 1900
purchased Michael Pupinâs patent on loading coils and in 1907 acquired
exclusive domestic rights for Cooper-Hewittâs patents on the mercury-arc
repeater â essential technologies underlying AT&Tâs monopoly on
long-distance telephony. [41]
By the time the FCC was formed in 1935, the Bell System had acquired
patents to âsome of the most important inventions in telephony and
radio,â and âthrough various radio-patent pool agreements in the 1920sâŠ
had effectively consolidated its position relative to the other giants
in the industry.â In so doing, according to an FCC investigation, AT&T
had gained control of âthe exploitation of potentially competitive and
emerging forms of communicationâ and âpre-empt[ed] for itself new
frontiers of technology for exploitation in the futureâŠ.â [42]
The radio-patent pools included AT&T, GE and Westinghouse, RCA (itself
formed as a subsidiary of GE after the latter acquired American
Marconi), and American Marconi.43 Alfred Chandlerâs history of the
origins of the consumer electronics industry is little more than an
extended account of which patents were held, and subsequently acquired,
by which companies. This should give us some indication, by the way, of
what he meant by âorganizational capability,â a term of his that will
come under more scrutiny in the next chapter. In an age where the
required capital outlays for actual physical plant and equipment are
rapidly diminishing in many forms of manufacturing, one of the chief
functions of âintellectual propertyâ is to create artificial
âcomparative advantageâ by giving a particular firm a monopoly on
technologies and techniques, and prevent their diffusion throughout the
market.
The American chemical industry, in its modern form, was made possible by
the Justice Departmentâs seizure of German chemical patents in WWI.
Until the war, some 98% of patent applications in chemical industry came
from German firms, and were never worked in the U.S. As a result the
American chemical industry was technically second-rate, largely limited
to final processing of intermediate goods imported from Germany.
Attorney General A. Mitchell Palmer, as âAlien Property Custodianâ
during the war, held the patents in trust and licensed 735 of them to
American firms; Du Pont alone received three hundred. [43]
More generally, âintellectual propertyâ is an effective tool for
cartelizing markets in industry at large. They were used in the
automobile and steel industries among others, according to Noble. [44]
In a 1906 article, mechanical engineer and patent lawyer Edwin Prindle
described patents as âthe best and most effective means of controlling
competition.â
Patents are the only legal form of absolute monopoly. In a recent court
decision the court said, âwithin his domain, the patentee is czarâŠ.
cries of restraint of trade and impairment of the freedom of sales are
unavailing, because for the promotion of the useful arts the
constitution and statutes authorize this very monopoly.â
The power which a patentee has to dictate the conditions under which his
monopoly may be exercised has been used to form trade agreements
throughout practically entire industries, and if the purpose of the
combination is primarily to secure benefit from the patent monopoly, the
combination is legitimate. Under such combinations there can be
effective agreements as to prices to be maintainedâŠ; the output for each
member of the combination can be specified and enforced⊠and many other
benefits which were sought to be secured by trade combinations made by
simple agreements can be added. Such trade combinations under patents
are the only valid and enforceable trade combinations that can be made
in the United States. [45]
And unlike purely private cartels, which tend toward defection and
instability, patent control cartels â being based on a state-granted
privilege â carry a credible and effective punishment for defection.
Through their âNapoleonic concept of industrial warfare, with inventions
and patents as the soldiers of fortune,â and through âthe research arm
of the âpatent offensive,ââ manufacturing corporations were able to
secure stable control of markets in their respective industries. [46]
Today, âintellectual propertyâ serves as a structural support for
corporate boundaries, at a time when the desktop revolution has
undermined control of physical capital as their primary justification.
The growing importance of human capital, and the implosion of capital
outlay costs required to enter the market, have had revolutionary
implications for production in the immaterial sphere.
In the old days, the immense value of physical assets was the primary
basis for the corporate hierarchyâs power, and in particular for its
control over human capital and other intangible assets.
As Luigi Zingales observes, the declining importance of physical assets
relative to human capital has changed this. Physical assets, âwhich used
to be the major source of rents, have become less unique and are not
commanding large rents anymore.â And âthe demand for process innovation
and quality improvement⊠can only be generated by talented employees,â
which increases the importance of human capital.48 This is even more
true since Zingales wrote, with the rise of what has been variously
called the Wikified firm, the hyperlinked organization, Enterprise 2.0,
etc.
Tom Peters remarked in quite similar language, some six years earlier in
The Tom Peters Seminar, on the changing balance of physical and human
capital. Of Inc. magazineâs 500 top-growth companies, which include a
good number of information, computer technology and biotech firms, 34%
were launched on initial capital of less than $10,000, 59% on less than
$50,000, and 75% on less than $100,000. [47]
In many industries, the initial outlay for entering the market was in
the hundreds of thousands of dollars or more. The old electronic mass
media, for instance, were âtypified by high-cost hubs and cheap,
ubiquitous, reception-only systems at the end. This led to a limited
range of organizational models for production: those that could collect
sufficient funds to set up a hub.â [48] The same was true of print
periodicals, with the increasing cost of printing equipment from the
mid-nineteenth century on serving as the main entry barrier for
organizing the hubs. Between 1835 and 1850, the typical startup cost of
a newspaper increased from $500 to $100,000 â or from roughly $10,000 to
$2.38 million in 2005 dollars. [49]
The networked economy, in contrast, is distinguished by ânetwork
architecture and the [low] cost of becoming a speaker.â
The first element is the shift from a hub-and-spoke architecture with
unidirectional links to the end points in the mass media, to distributed
architecture with multidirectional connections among all nodes in the
networked information environment. The second is the practical
elimination of communications costs as a barrier to speaking across
associational boundaries. Together, these characteristics have
fundamentally altered the capacity of individuals, acting alone or with
others, to be active participants in the public sphere as opposed to its
passive readers, listeners, or viewers. [50]
The central change that makes this possible is that âthe basic physical
capital necessary to express and communicate human meaning is the
connected personal computer.â
The core functionalities of processing, storage, and communications are
widely owned throughout the population of usersâŠ. The high capital costs
that were a prerequisite to gathering, working, and communicating
information, knowledge, and culture, have now been widely distributed in
the society. The entry barrier they posed no longer offers a
condensation point for the large organizations that once dominated the
information environment. [51]
The desktop revolution and the Internet mean that the minimum capital
outlay for entering most of the entertainment and information industry
has fallen to a few thousand dollars, and the marginal cost of
reproduction is zero. If anything that overstates the cost of entry in
many cases, considering how rapidly computer value depreciates and the
relatively miniscule cost of buying a five-year-old computer and adding
RAM. The networked environment, combined with endless varieties of cheap
software for creating and editing content, makes it possible for the
amateur to produce output of a quality once associated with giant
publishing houses and recording companies. [52] That is true of the
software industry, the music industry (thanks to cheap equipment and
software for high quality recording and sound editing), desktop
publishing, and to a certain extent even to film (as witnessed by
affordable editing technology and the success of Sky Captain).
Podcasting makes it possible to distribute âradioâ and âtelevisionâ
programming, at virtually no cost, to anyone with a broadband
connection. A network of amateur contributors have peer-produced an
encyclopedia, Wikipedia, which Britannica sees as a rival. As Tom Coates
put it, âthe gap between what can be accomplished at home and what can
be accomplished in a work environment has narrowed dramatically over the
last ten to fifteen years.â [53]
Itâs also true of news, with ever-expanding networks of amateurs in
venues like Indymedia, alternative new operations like Robert Parryâs
and Greg Palastâs, and natives and American troops blogging news
firsthand from Iraq, at the very same time the traditional broadcasting
networks are shutting down.
This has profoundly weakened corporate hierarchies in the information
and entertainment industries, and created enormous agency problems as
well. As the value of human capital increases, and the cost of physical
capital investments needed for independent production by human capital
decreases, the power of corporate hierarchies becomes less and less
relevant. As the value of human relative to physical capital increases,
the entry barriers become progressively lower for workers to take their
human capital outside the firm and start new firms under their own
control. Zingales gives the example of the Saatchi and Saatchi
advertising agency. The largest block of shareholders, U.S. fund
managers who controlled 30% of stock, thought that gave them effective
control of the firm. They attempted to exercise this perceived control
by voting down Maurice Saatchiâs proposed increased option package for
himself. In response, the Saatchi brothers took their human capital (in
actuality the lionâs share of the firmâs value) elsewhere to start a new
firm, and left a hollow shell owned by the shareholders. [54]
Interestingly, in 1994 a firm like Saatchi and Saatchi, with few
physical assets and a lot of human capital, could have been considered
an exception. Not any more. The wave of initial public offerings of
purely human capital firms, such as consultant firms, and even
technology firms whose main assets are the key employees, is changing
the very nature of the firm. Employees are not merely automata in charge
of operating valuable assets but valuable assets themselves, operating
with commodity-like physical assets. [55]
In another, similar example, the former head of Salomon Brothersâ bond
trading group formed a new group with former Salomon traders responsible
for 87% of the firmâs profits.
âŠif we take the standpoint that the boundary of the firm is the point up
to which top management has the ability to exercise powerâŠ, the group
was not an integral part of Salomon. It merely rented space, Salomonâs
name, and capital, and turned over some share of its profits as rent.
[56]
Marjorie Kelly gave the breakup of the Chiat/Day ad agency, in 1995, as
an example of the same phenomenon.
âŠWhat is a corporation worth without its employees?
This question was acted out⊠in London, with the revolutionary birth of
St. Lukeâs ad agency, which was formerly the London office of Chiat/Day.
In 1995, the owners of Chiat/Day decided to sell the company to Omnicon
â which meant layoffs were looming and Andy Law in the London office
wanted none of it. He and his fellow employees decided to rebel. They
phoned clients and found them happy to join the rebellion. And so at one
blow, London employees and clients were leaving.
Thus arose a fascinating question: What exactly did the âownersâ of the
London office now own? A few desks and files? Without employees and
clients, what was the London branch worth? One dollar, it turned out.
That was the purchase price â plus a percentage of profits for seven
years â when Omnicon sold the London branch to Law and his cohorts after
the merger. They renamed it St. LukeâsâŠ. All employees became equal
owners⊠Every year now the company is re-valued, with new shares awarded
equally to all. [57]
David Prychitko remarked on the same phenomenon in the tech industry,
the so-called âbreak-awayâ firms, as far back as 1991:
Old firms act as embryos for new firms. If a worker or group of workers
is not satisfied with the existing firm, each has a skill which he or
she controls, and can leave the firm with those skills and establish a
new one. In the information age it is becoming more evident that a boss
cannot control the workers as one did in the days when the assembly line
was dominant. People cannot be treated as workhorses any longer, for the
value of the production process is becoming increasingly embodied in the
intellectual skills of the worker. This poses a new threat to the
traditional firm if it denies participatory organization.
The appearance of break-away computer firms leads one to question the
extent to which our existing system of property rights in ideas and
information actually protects bosses in other industries against the
countervailing power of workers. Perhaps our current system of patents,
copyrights, and other intellectual property rights not only impedes
competition and fosters monopoly, as some Austrians argue. Intellectual
property rights may also reduce the likelihood of break-away firms in
general, and discourage the shift to more participatory, cooperative
formats. [58]
In this environment, the only thing standing between the old information
and media dinosaurs and their total collapse is their so-called
âintellectual propertyâ rights â at least to the extent theyâre still
enforceable. Ownership of âintellectual propertyâ becomes the new basis
for the power of institutional hierarchies, and the primary structural
bulwark for corporate boundaries. Even corporate apologists like Bill
Gates and Tom Peters celebrate the network revolution and flattening of
hierarchies: they just favor domesticating the process within a
corporate framework enforced by ownership of âintellectual property.â
But the networked designers within Microsoft are doing essentially the
same thing that teams of Linux programmers are doing outside the
corporate walls. âIntellectual propertyâ is the only thing that prevents
the walls from dissolving, and the Microsoft programmers becoming part
of a larger environment of loose peer design networks, with the firm
replaced by self-organized, project-based teams â with teams constantly
gaining members from and losing them to other teams, projects
discontinuing or forking, etc., on the Linux model.
Without âintellectual property,â in any industry where the basic
production equipment is affordable to all, and bottom-up networking
renders management obsolete, it is likely that self-managed, cooperative
production will replace the old managerial hierarchies. The network
revolution, if its full potential is realized,
will lead to substantial redistribution of power and money from the
twentieth century industrial producers of information, culture, and
communications â like Hollywood, the recording industry, and perhaps the
broadcasters and some of the telecommunications giants â to a
combination of widely diffuse populations around the globe, and the
market actors that will build the tools that make this population better
able to produce its own information environment rather than buying it
ready-made.â [59]
Another effect of the shift in importance from tangible to intangible
assets is that a growing portion of product prices consists of embedded
rents on âintellectual propertyâ and other artificial property rights
rather than the material costs of production. Tom Peters cited former 3M
strategic planner George Hegg on the increasing portion of product
âvalueâ made up of âintellectual propertyâ (i.e., the amount of final
price consisting of tribute to the owners of âintellectual propertyâ):
âWe are trying to sell more and more intellect and less and less
materials.â Peters produces a long string of such examples:
âŠMy new Minolta 9xi is a lumpy object, but I suspect I paid about $10
for its plastic casing, another $50 for the fine-ground optical glass,
and the rest, about $640, for its intellect⊠[60]
It is a soft worldâŠ. Nike contracts for the production of its spiffy
footwear in factories around the globe, but it creates the enormous
stock value via superb design and, above all, marketing skills. Tom
Silverman, founder of upstart Tommy Boy Records, says Nike was the first
company to understand that it was in the lifestyle businessâŠ. Shoes?
Lumps? Forget it! Lifestyle. Image. Speed. Value via intellect and
pizazz. [61]
âMicrosoftâs only factory asset is the human imagination,â observed The
New York Times Magazine writer Fred Moody. In seminars Iâve used the
slide on which those words appear at least a hundred times, yet every
time that simple sentence comes into view on the screen I feel the hairs
on the back of my neck bristle. [62]
A few years back, Philip Morris purchased Kraft for $12.9 billion, a
fair price in view of its subsequent performance. When the accountants
finished their work, it turned out that Philip Morris had bought $1.3
billion worth of âstuffâ (tangible assets) and $11.6 billion of âOther.â
Whatâs the other, the 116/129?
âŠ.Call it intangibles, good-will (the U.S. accountantsâ term), brand
equity, or the ideas in the heads of thousands of Kraft employees around
the world. [63]
Regarding Petersâ Minolta example, as Benkler points out the marginal
cost of reproducing âits intellectâ is virtually zero. So about 90% of
the price of that new Minolta comes from tolls to corporate gatekeepers,
who have been granted control of that âintellect.â In an economy where
software and product design were the product of peer networks,
unrestricted by the âintellectual propertyâ of old corporate dinosaurs,
90% of the productâs price would evaporate overnight. To quote Michael
Perelman,
the so-called weightless economy has more to do with the legislated
powers of intellectual property that the government granted to powerful
corporations. For example, companies such as Nike, Microsoft, and Pfizer
sell stuff that has high value relative to its weight only because their
intellectual property rights insulate them from competition. [64]
The same goes for Nikeâs sneakers. I suspect the amortization cost of
the physical capital used to manufacture the shoes in those Asian
sweatshops, plus the cost of the sweatshop labor, is less than 10% of
the price of the shoes. The wages of the workers could be tripled or
quadrupled with negligible impact on the retail price.
How many extra hours does the average person work each week to pay
tribute to the owners of the âhuman imaginationâ?
The good news is that, as âintellectual propertyâ becomes increasingly
unenforceable, we can expect two things: first, for the ownership of
proprietary content to become untenable as a basis for corporate
institutional power; and second, for the portion of commodity price
reflecting embedded rents on artificial property rights to implode.
âIntellectual propertyâ also serves as a bulwark to planned obsolescence
and high-overhead production. Itâs an example of a general law stated by
Thomas Hodgskin: Social regulations and commercial prohibitions âcompel
us to employ more labour than is necessary to obtain the prohibited
commodity,â or âto give a greater quantity of labour to obtain it than
nature requires,â and put the difference into the pockets of privileged
classes. [65]
A major component of the business model that prevails under existing
corporate capitalism is the offer of platforms below-cost, coupled with
the sale of patented or copyrighted spare parts, accessories, etc., at
an enormous markup. So one buys a cell phone for little or nothing, with
the contractual obligation to use only a specified service package for
so many years; one buys a fairly cheap printer, which uses enormously
expensive ink cartridges; one buys a cheap glucometer, with glucose
testing strips that cost $100 a box. And to hack oneâs phone to use a
different service plan, or to manufacture generic ink cartridges or
glucose testing strips in competition with the proprietary version, is
illegal. To manufacture generic replacement parts for a car or
appliance, in competition with the corporate dealership, is likewise
illegal.
As it is now, appliances are generally designed to thwart repair. When
the Maytag repairman tells you it would cost more that itâs worth to
repair your washing machine, heâs telling the truth. But he fails to add
that that state of affairs reflects deliberate design: the washing
machine could have been designed on a modular basis, had the company so
chosen, so that the defective part might have been cheaply and easily
replaced.
Absent legal constraints, it would be profitable to offer competing
generic replacements and accessories for other companiesâ platforms. And
in the face of such market competition, there would be strong pressure
toward modular product designs that were amenable to repair, and
interoperable with other the modular components and accessories of other
companiesâ platforms. Absent the legal constraints presented by patents,
an appliance which was designed to thwart ease of repair through
incompatibility with other companiesâ platforms would suffer a
competitive disadvantage.
In the contemporary global economy, âintellectual propertyâ plays the
same protectionist role for TNCs that tariffs performed in the old
national economies. Michael Perelman argues that the upsurge in
âintellectual propertyâ protection since the late 1960s has been an
integral part of the neoliberal revolution.
Although many old line industries could no longer compete effectively in
world markets, exports of intellectual property in the form of royalties
and copyright fees soared.
I have not seen hard data regarding the effect of intellectual property
rights on the rate of profit, but I am convinced that it is substantial.
Just think about Microsoft and the pharmaceutical industry with their
low marginal costs relative to their market prices. For example,
Microsoft reported that it makes 85 percent margin on its Windows
systemâŠ. [66]
Elsewhere he cites figures showing that revenues on âintellectual
propertyâ rose, between 1947 and the early 1990s, from ten percent to
over half of all American exports. In 1999 export revenues from
royalties and licensing revenue reached $37 billion, exceeding the
revenue from aircraft export ($29 billion). [67]
Itâs hardly coincidental that the dominant industrial sectors in the
global corporate economy are all heavily dependent on âintellectual
propertyâ: software, entertainment, biotech, pharmaceuticals, and
electronics. And the central focus of the neoliberal regime, which has
been falsely identified with âfree tradeâ and âfree markets,â is on
strengthening corporate control over âintellectual propertyâ in the face
of the threats we saw described by Michel Bauwens earlier in this paper.
This is the Nike business model, simultaneously celebrated by Tom Peters
and condemned by Naomi Klein: outsource production to networked supply
chains, with the corporate headquarters retaining control over
trademarks and other âintellectual property,â finance, and marketing.
In addition, patents are used on a global scale to lock transnational
manufacturing corporations into a permanent monopoly of productive
technology. The single most totalitarian provision of the Uruguay Round
is probably its âindustrial propertyâ provisions. [68] The developed
world has pushed particularly hard to protect industries relying on or
producing âgeneric technologies,â and to restrict diffusion of âdual
useâ technologies. The U. S.-Japanese trade agreement on
semi-conductors, for example, is a âcartel-like, âmanaged tradeâ
agreement.â So much for âfree trade.â [69]
The central motivation in the GATT intellectual property regime,
however, is to permanently lock in the collective monopoly of advanced
technology by TNCs, and prevent independent competition from ever
arising in the Third World. It would, as Martin Khor Kok Peng writes,
âeffectively prevent the diffusion of technology to the Third World, and
would tremendously increase monopoly royalties of the TNCs whilst
curbing the potential development of Third World technology.â [70]
Raghavan summed up nicely the effect on the Third World:
Given the vast outlays in R and D and investments, as well as the short
life cycle of some of these products, the leading Industrial Nations are
trying to prevent emergence of competition by controlling⊠the flows of
technology to others. The Uruguay round is being sought to be used to
create export monopolies for the products of Industrial Nations, and
block or slow down the rise of competitive rivals, particularly in the
newly industrializing Third World countries. At the same time the
technologies of senescent industries of the north are sought to be
exported to the South under conditions of assured rentier income. [71]
But to repeat once again: the good news is that, in both the domestic
and global economies, this business model is doomed. As argued by a wide
range of authors, it sows the seeds of its own destruction.
The shift from physical to human capital as the primary source of
productive capacity in so many industries, along with the imploding
price and widespread dispersion of ownership of capital equipment in so
many industries, means that corporate employers are increasingly
hollowed out and only maintain control over the physical production
process through legal fictions. When so much of actual physical
production is outsourced to the small sweatshop or the home shop, the
corporation becomes a redundant ânodeâ that can be bypassed; the worker
can simply switch to independent production, cut out the middleman, and
deal directly with suppliers and outlets.
David Pollard, writing from the imaginary perspective of 2015, remarked
on the vulnerability of corporations that follow the Nike model of
hollowing themselves out and outsourcing everything:
In the early 2000s, large corporations that were once hierarchical
end-to-end business enterprises began shedding everything that was not
deemed âcore competencyâ, in some cases to the point where the only
things left were business acumen, market knowledge, experience,
decision-making ability, brand name, and aggregation skills. This
âhollowing outâ allowed multinationals to achieve enormous leverage and
margin. It also made them enormously vulnerable and potentially
dispensable.
As outsourcing accelerated, some small companies discovered how to
exploit this very vulnerability. When, for example, they identified
North American manufacturers outsourcing domestic production to third
world plants in the interest of âincreasing productivityâ, they went
directly to the third world manufacturers, offered them a bit more, and
then went directly to the North American retailers, and offered to
charge them less. The expensive outsourcers quickly found themselves
unnecessary middlemenâŠ. The large corporations, having shed everything
they thought was non âcore competencyâ, learned to their chagrin that in
the connected, information economy, the value of their core competency
was much less than the inflated value of their stock, and they have lost
much of their market share to new federations of small entrepreneurial
businesses. [72]
To take the example of Nike shoes themselves, the larger the percentage
that brand-name markup contributes to total retail price, over and above
actual costs of production, the greater the incentives will become for
the factories producing the actual shoes to defect from the
international âintellectual propertyâ regime. By producing identical
shoes (perhaps with the Swoosh in a red circle-and-slashbar) and cutting
Nike out of the loop, the factories can eliminate the brand-name markup,
raise wages by several hundred percent, and lower prices sufficiently to
market their shoes domestically instead of for export to Western
consumers. Likewise, the small, networked flexible manufacturing firms
in industrial districts like Emilia-Romagna, to the extent that they
still participate in the supply chains of transnational manufacturing
corporations, by simply ignoring âintellectual propertyâ laws can bypass
the large manufacturers and offer better, cheaper competing versions of
their own products.
One of the greatest services libertarians can render to the cause of
freedom is to agitate for mass defection from international
âintellectual propertyâ agreements like WIPO and TRIPS, and at the same
time to promote the development of technical means of circumventing
enforcement of copyright law.
Earlier, we quoted Murray Rothbardâs observation that the enforcement of
âintellectual propertyâ rights requires the violation of genuine rights
to tangible property. As Cory Doctorow argues, this becomes even more
true given the business model required by proprietary digital
information:
Itâs funny that in the name of protecting âintellectual property,â big
media companies are willing to do such violence to the idea of real
property arguing that since everything we own, from our t-shirts to our
cars to our ebooks, embody someoneâs copyright, patent and trademark,
that weâre basically just tenant farmers, living on the land of our
gracious masters whoâve seen fit to give us a lease on our homes. [73]
All-pervasive DRM prevents the easy transfer of content between
platforms, even when itâs simply a matter of the person who purchased a
CD or DVD wanting to play it somewhere more convenient. And the DMCA
legally prohibits circumventing such DRM, even when â again â the
purchaser of the content simply wants to facilitate his own use on a
wider and more convenient variety of platforms.
A good recent example of the phenomenon Doctorow commented on is the
Amazon Kindle. If Amazon suspends a Kindle account (say, because the
user returned too many books), the reader becomes an inert chunk of
plastic suitable for use as a doorstop or paperweight. All those e-books
already bought and paid for can no longer be read. If the reader falls
afoul of Amazonâs good graces, theyâll disable his reader by remote and
make the e-books he already âownsâ utterly worthless. [74]
But to repeat once again, and for the last time, the laws on which the
enforcement of this business model depends are becoming unenforceable,
and the business model itself as a result untenable. According to the
(probably hyperbolic) claim of Johan Pouwelse, a scholarly analyst of
the P2P phenomenon, copyright will become unenforceable by 2010. If his
assessment of the timeline is overly optimistic, his analysis of the
causes of copyrightâs obsolescence are on the mark. As file-sharing
platforms become more popular, they are simultaneously becoming more
robust and more secure. For a growing percentage of young people, all
the industry admonitions that âfile-sharing is theftâ fall on deaf ears.
Among those younger than thirty or so, file-sharing is simply something
that people do, and will continue to do. Any attempt to change this
cultural atmosphere will be a losing, rear-guard battle comparable to
that faced by the Religious Right. At the same time, file-sharing
networks are becoming increasingly user-friendly and attractive to
mainstream participants.
Most important of all is the prospect of anonymity and security against
the punitive efforts of the Copyright Nazis at MPAA and RIAA. According
to Pouwelse,
By 2010 darknets should be able to offer the same performance as
traditional P2P software by exploiting social networking,â the article
reads, referring to networks that allow file trading whithout revealing
the identity of its participants to outside entities. ? Just think what
would happen if those 72,866 YouTube friends were able to share
Hollywood movies within a P2P network thatâs as easy to use as YouTube
but untraceable by Hollywood. Pouwelse and his colleagues think itâs
going to happen within the next two years. [75]
Advocates for âintellectual propertyâ defend it as necessary to
encourage innovation, asking what the incentive for innovation or
artistic creation would be without it. But in fact patents suppress
innovation as much as they encourage it, and many producers in the
cultural and information fields have demonstrated that value can be
captured without âintellectual property.â
Patents are a hindrance to progress because of the âshoulders of giantsâ
effect. Any new invention presupposes a wide variety of existing
technologies that are combined and reworked into a new configuration.
Patents on existing technologies may or may not marginally increase the
incentives to new invention, but they also increase the cost of doing so
by levying a tariff on the aggregation of existing knowledge to serve as
building blocks of a new invention.78 James Wattâs refusal to license
his patent on the steam engine, for example, prevented others from
improving the design until the patent expired in 1800. This delayed the
introduction of locomotives and steamboats. [76]
Rothbard pointed out that patents eliminate âthe competitive spur for
further researchâ because incremental innovation based on othersâ
patents is hindered, and because the holder can ârest on his laurels for
the entire period of the patent,â with no fear of a competitor improving
his invention. And they hamper technical progress because âmechanical
inventions are discoveries of natural law rather than individual
creations, and hence similar independent inventions occur all the time.
The simultaneity of inventions is a familiar historical fact.â Patents
also distort whatever research and innovation does occur in artificial
directionsâtoward patentable research, at the expense of non-patentable
research. [77] Chakravarthi Raghavan argued, likewise, that patents and
industrial security programs prevent sharing of information, and
suppress competition in further improvement of patented inventions. [78]
And patents are not necessary as an incentive to innovate. According to
Rothbard, invention is motivated not only by the quasi-rents accruing to
the first firm to introduce an innovation, but by the threat of being
surpassed in product features or productivity by its competitors. He
cites Arnold Plant: âIn active competition⊠no business can afford to
lag behind its competitors. The reputation of a firm depends upon its
ability to keep ahead, to be the first in the market with new
improvements in its products and new reductions in their prices.â [79]
This is borne out by F. M. Schererâs testimony before the Federal Trade
Commission in 1995. [80] Scherer spoke of a survey of 91 companies in
which only seven âaccorded high significance to patent protection as a
factor in their R & D investments.â Most of them described patents as
âthe least important of considerations.â Most companies considered their
chief motivation in R & D decisions to be âthe necessity of remaining
competitive, the desire for efficient production, and the desire to
expand and diversify their sales.â In another study, Scherer found no
negative effect on R & D spending as a result of compulsory licensing of
patents. A survey of U.S. firms found that 86% of inventions would have
been developed without patents. In the case of automobiles, office
equipment, rubber products, and textiles, the figure was 100%.
The one supposed exception was drugs, according to Scherer, of which 60%
would not have been invented. But itâs likely Scherer underestimated the
effect of drug patents in discouraging or distorting innovation. For one
thing, drug companies get an unusually high portion of their R & D
funding from the government, and many of their most lucrative products
were developed entirely at government expense. And Scherer himself cited
evidence to the contrary. The reputation advantage for being the first
into a market is considerable. For example in the late 1970s, the
structure of the industry and pricing behavior was found to be very
similar between drugs with and those without patents. Being the first
mover with a non-patented drug allowed a company to maintain a 30%
market share and to charge premium prices. We have already seen, in the
previous chapter, the extent to which the direction of innovation of
skewed by considerations of gaming the patent system and patent trolling
the competition. The majority of R & D expenditure is geared toward
developing âme, tooâ drugs: in essence slightly different versions of
existing drugs, tweaked just enough to justify repatenting. And of the
enormous R & D expenditures which patents are allegedly necessary to
allow the drug companies to recoup, a majority goes not to developing
the actual drug that goes to market, but to securing patent lockdown on
all the possible major variations of that drug.
The injustice is only compounded by government funding of research and
innovation, with private industry reaping monopoly profits from
technology it spent little or nothing to develop. The Government Patent
Policy Act of 1980, with 1984 and 1986 amendments, allowed private
industry to keep patents on products developed with government R & D
moneyâand then to charge ten, twenty, or forty times the cost of
production. For example, AZT was developed with government money, and
the patent subsequently given away to Burroughs Wellcome Corp.84 As if
the deck were not sufficiently stacked already, Congress has more than
once extended drug companiesâ patents beyond the expiration of their
normal term under patent law; as just one example, the pharmaceutical
companies in 1999 lobbied Congress to extend certain patents by two
years by a special act of private law. [81]
Copyrights have also been granted arbitrary extension for certain
favored parties (e.g., copyright extension, sponsored by Sonny Bono, for
Disneyâs âMickey Mouseâ trademark). This is in addition to the draconian
copyright protections, described above, already in force under general
law. But copyright protection is no more necessary for artistic creation
than patents are necessary for invention. There are many businesses, in
the open-source world, that manage to make money from auxiliary services
even though their content itself is not proprietary. For example, even
though Red Hat cannot restrict the copying of the Linux software it
distributes, it does quite well customizing the software and offering
specialized customer support. Phish has actively encouraged fans to
share its music free of charge, while making money off of live
performances and concessions. Radiohead offered a recent album for free
download, collecting only voluntary contributions via what amounted to a
glorified PayPal tip jar.
The Radiohead model is especially interesting in its implications for
making a living off open-source production. Since, as we have already
seen, the cost of the physical capital necessary for recording and sound
editing has imploded, the overhead costs which must be serviced by an
open-source music distributor are miniscule. And since the listeners
themselves bear the cost of physical reproduction (i.e., they burn their
own CDs), whatever revenue stream comes in from voluntary
contributionsâeven it averages only a dollar or two per listenerâbelongs
to the artist free and clear. And even if the content provider charges a
price for the download, there is a significant rent entailed in the cost
of setting up a rival download service and selling the same content for
a lower price. So for all but the biggest blockbuster music groups and
publishers, if the content provider charges a low enough price, the
transaction costs involved in going through a file-sharing network, or
setting up a competing download service just to sell the content for
fifty cents instead of a dollar, probably exceed the likely returns.
Unless the content providers attempt to price gouge in the way that
record companies have done in recent years, or they are forced to
service the overhead costs from supporting corporate management and
shareholders, they are likely to benefit more than suffer from free
culture.
Since IP is not necessary to encourage innovation, this means that its
main practical effect is to cause economic inefficiency by levying a
monopoly charge on the use of existing technology.
In any case, for those whose libertarianism follows from the principles
of self-ownership and nonaggression, whether âintellectual propertyâ is
necessary for those engaged in certain forms of economic activity to
profit is beside the point. The same argument is used by protectionists:
certain businesses would be unprofitable if the werenât protected from
competition by tariffs. So what? No one has a right to profit at someone
elseâs expense, through the use of force. In particular, no one has the
right to make a profit by using the state to prevent others from doing
as they please with their own pen and paper, hard drives, or CDs. A
business model that isnât profitable without government intervention
should fail.
The following example is instructive, as a lesson in double standards.
David Noble, in Progress Without People, recounted an incident in the
early 1970s when the Washington Post was adopting computerized cold type
technology which rendered pressmen obsolete. The pressroom was invaded
after hours by pressmen who systematically took apart the machines with
the technical expertise of a Jack the Ripper. [82] So why is it bad for
âLudditesâ to smash machines that put them out of a job, while
technology that puts capitalists out of a job (or out of profit, rather)
violates their âpropertyâ rights? If the same newspaper publishers whose
adoption of new technology rendered skilled workers obsolete, now find
themselves threatened by cutting and pasting and hyperlinksâwell, it
couldnât happen to a nicer bunch of guys. And if the record companiesâ
management and shareholders now find themselves redundant in the face of
home sound editing, filesharing, and other forms of new technology, then
let them eat cake. If workers donât have a property right in their jobs
in the face of new technology, then neither do capitalists have a
property in the accrual of profits from a business model rendered
obsolete by new technology.
âIntellectual property,â finally, hinders innovation in another way we
have not yet considered: it increases the cost of putting and keeping
oneâs own ideas in the public domain, for those who prefer to do so. The
content originator or inventor must take defensive measures to prevent
his idea, which he leaves in the public domain, from being copyrighted
by someone else with the intent of depriving him of its use.
This is not such a problem for copyright. Copyleft, the GNU General
Public License and the Creative Commons license all presuppose strong
copyright laws, and piggyback on standard copyright. Such licenses allow
virtually unlimited reproduction and circulation of material under a
broad range of circumstances, on the condition that the secondary user
make his own use of the material publicly available under the terms of
the same license. Copyright protection is simply retained in
self-defense, to prevent material in the public domain from being
copyrighted by secondary users. Were there no copyright laws in
existence in the first place, there would be no need for the GPL or CC
license. Patents, however, raise far more difficult issues. Vinay
Guptaâs account of his experiences with the hexayurt, an open-source
form of cheap emergency housing for refugees living in shantytowns and
tent cities, is instructive in this regard.
Look, the problem is this: GPL enforceability rests on strong copyright
law.
Hardware, however, is typically not covered by copyright, leaving
patent.
Patents are expensive.
So you can patent-with-open-license if you can afford it, or you can
publish and it drops into the public domain (i.e. is no longer
patentable) and some other bastard can patent things around or enclosing
your invention, and then youâre an unhappy camper.
Been through this with the Hexayurt and thereâs no good answer right
now. I strongly tend towards the public-domain-and-pray approach,
personally. [87]
One cannot simply choose not to patent an invention and entrust it
safely to the public domain. It is necessary to pay the enormous expense
of obtaining a patent in order to enforce the continued public domain
status of oneâs own invention, and keep it from being stolen by
corporate pirates.
âIntellectual propertyâ is theft. Smash the state.
[1] Lysander Spooner, The Law of Intellectual Property; or, An Essay on
the Right of Authors and Inventors to a Perpetual Property in Their
Ideas (Boston: Bela Marsh, 1855) <
.
[2] âState Socialism and Anarchism: How Far They Agree, and Wherein They
Differ,â in Benjamin R. Tucker, Instead of a Book, By a Man Too Busy to
Write One. Gordon Press facsimile (New York: 1973 [1897]), p. 13.
[3] Ayn Rand, Capitalism: The Unknown Ideal (New York: The New American
Library Inc., 1967), p. 130.
[4] Ibid., p. 132.
[5]
N. Stephan Kinsella, Against Intellectual Property (Ludwig von Mises
Institute, 2008), p. 16n. This monograph first appeared as an
article the symposium Applications of Libertarian Legal Theory,
published in the Journal of Libertarian Studies 15, no. 2 (Spring
2001).
[6] Ibid., p. 27.
[7] Ibid.
[8] Ludwig von Mises, Human Action (Chicago: Regnery, 1949, 1963, 1966),
pp. 385â386, 680â681.
[9] Murray N. Rothbard, Man, Economy, and State: A Treatise on Economic
Principles (Auburn, Ala.: The Ludwig von Mises Institute, 1962, 1970,
1993), p. 655.
[10] Ibid., pp. 657â658.
[11] Ibid., p. 654.
[12] Kinsella, Against Intellectual Property, p. 46.
[13] Quasibill, âContract Enforcement Consolidation,â The Bell Tower,
December 20, 2007 <
.
[14] Stephan Kinsella comment under Aheram, âThe Validity of End User
Licesnse Agreements Redux,â Copyfascism Watch, December 2, 2008
<
.
[15] Kinsella comment under David K. Levine, âCan You Contract Away Fair
Use?â Against Monopoly, April 13, 2009
<
.
[16] Charles Johnson, âHow Intellectual Protectionism promotes the
progress of science and the useful arts,â Rad Geek Peopleâs Daily, May
28, 2008 <
.
[17] Richard Stallman, âThe Right to Readâ (updated 2007). It originally
appeared in the February 1997 issue of Communications of the ACM (Volume
40, Number 2) <
.
[18] Michel Bauwens, P2P and Human Evolution. Draft 1.994 (Foundation
for P2P Alternatives, June 15, 2005) <
.
[19] Michel Bauwens, âCan the experience economy be capitalist?â P2P
Foundation Blog, September 27, 2007 <
.
[20] Johan Soderberg, Hacking Capitalism: The Free and Open Source
Software Movement (New York and London: Routledge, 2008), , pp. 144â145.
[21] Deborah Durham-Vichr, âFocus on the DeCSS trial,â CNN.Com, July 27,
2000 <
.
[22] Numerous examplesâthe Diebold corporate emails and Sinclair Media
boycott, the Alisher Usmanov libel case, the Wikileaks case, etc.âare
provided in the appendices to Chapter Nine (âSpecial Agency Problems of
Laborâ) in Kevin Carson, Organization Theory: A Libertarian Perspective
(Booksurge, 2008). An earlier online draft of the chapter can be found
at <
.
[23] Albert Jay Nock, Our Enemy, the State (Delavan, Wisc.: Hallberg
Publishing Corp., 1983), p. 80
[24] Peter Kropotkin, The Conquest of Bread (New York: Vanguard Press,
1926), pp. 36â37.
[25] Ronald Bailey, âDrug Companies Donât Get Enough Money âŠ,â Reason
Hit&Run blog, February 22, 2006 <
.
[26] Kevin Carson, Studies in Mutualist Political Economy (Blitzprint,
2004), p. 79.
[27] Maurice Dobb, Political Economy and Capitalism: Some Essays in
Economic Tradition, 2^(nd) rev. ed. (London: Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd,
1940, 1960), p. 66.
[28] Veblen, The Place of Science in Modern Civilization and other
Essays, p. 352, quoted in John R. Commons, Institutional Economics (New
York: MacMillan, 1934), p. 664.
[29] Rothbard, Power and Market: Government and the Economy. (Kansas
City: Sheed Andrews and Mcmeel, Inc., 1970, 1977) , p. 71.
[30] Scott Adams, âIs Copyright Violation Stealing?â The Dilbert Blog,
April 7, 2007 <
.
[31] Kinsella, Against Intellectual Property, p. 47.
[32] Mark A. Poncelet, âLeave my underpants alone,â poncelet, April 9,
2007 <
.
[33] Hodgskin, âLetter the Eighth: Evils of the Artificial Right of
Property,â The Natural and Artificial Right of Property Contrasted. A
Series of Letters, addressed without permission to H. Brougham, Esq.
M.P. F.R.S. (London: B. Steil, 1832).
<
[34] Hodgskin, The Natural and Artificial Right of Property Contrasted.
A Series of Letters, addressed without permission to H. Brougham, Esq.
M.P. F.R.S. (London: B. Steil, 1832). Online Library of Liberty
<
[35] David F. Noble, America by Design: Science, Technology, and the
Rise of Corporate Capitalism (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1977), p. 5.
[36] Ibid., p. 9.
[37] Ibid., pp. 9â10.
[38] Ibid., pp. 11â12.
[39] Ibid., p. 12.
[40] Ibid., p. 12.
[41] Ibid., p. 91.
[42] Ibid., p. 92.
[43] Ibid., p. 16.
[44] Ibid., p. 91.
[45] Ibid., p. 89.
[46] Ibid., p. 95.
[47] Tom Peters. The Tom Peters Seminar: Crazy Times Call for Crazy
Organizations (New York: Vintage Books, 1994), p. 35.
[48] Yochai Benkler, The Wealth of Networks: How Social Production
Transforms Markets and Freedom (New Haven and London: Yale University
Press, 2006), p. 179.
[49] Ibid., p. 188.
[50] Ibid., pp. 212â13.
[51] Ibid., pp. 32â33.
[52] Ibid., p. 54.
[53] Tom Coates, â(Weblogs and) The Mass Amateurisation of (Nearly)
EverythingâŠâ Plasticbag.org, September 3, 2003 <
amateurisation_of_nearly_everything>.
[54] Zingales, âIn Search of New Foundations,â p. 1641.
[55] Ibid., p. 1641.
[56] Raghuram Rajan and Luigi Zingales, âThe Governance of the New
Enterprise,â in Xavier Vives, ed., Corporate Governance: Theoretical and
Empirical Perspectives (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000),
pp. 211â212.
[57] Marjorie Kelly, âThe Corporation as Feudal Estateâ (an excerpt from
The Divine Right of Capital) Business Ethics, Summer 2001. Quoted in
GreenMoney Journal, Fall 2008 <
.
[58] David L Prychitko, Marxism and Workersâ Self-Management: The
Essential Tension ( New York; London; Westport, Conn.: Greenwood Press,
1991), p. 121n.
[59] James C. Bennett, âThe End of Capitalism and the Triumph of the
Market Economy,â from Network Commonwealth: The Future of Nations in the
Internet Era (1998, 1999) <
.
[60] Tom Peters, The Tom Peters Seminar, p. 10.
[61] Ibid., pp. 10â11.
[62] Ibid., p. 11.
[63] Ibid. p. 12.
[64] Michael Perelman, âThe Political Economy of Intellectual Property,â
Monthly Review, January 2003 <
.
[65] Thomas Hodgskin, Popular Political Economy: Four Lectures Delivered
at the London Mechanicsâ Institution (London: Printed for Charles and
William Tait, Edinburgh, 1827), pp. 3334.
[66] Michael Perelman, âIntellectual Property Rights and the Commodity
Form: New Dimensions in the Legislative Transfer of Surplus Value,â
Review of Radical Political Economics 35:3 (Summer 2003), pp. 307â308.
[67] Perelman, Steal This Idea: Intellectual Property Rights and the
Corporate Confiscation of Creativity (New York: Palgrave, 2002), p. 36.
[68] Chakravarthi Raghavan, Recolonization: GATT, the Uruguay Round &
the Third World (Penang, Malaysia: Third World Network, 1990), pp.
119â20.
[69] Dieter Ernst, Technology, Economic Security and Latecomer
Industrialization, quoted in Raghavan, Recolonization, pp. 39â40.
[70] Martin Khor Kok Peng, The Uruguay Round and Third World Sovereignty
(Penang, Malaysia: Third World Network, 1990), pp. 29â30.
[71] Raghavan, Recolonization, p. 96.
[72] David Pollard, âThe Future of Business,â How to Save the World,
January 14, 2004 <
.
[73] Cory Doctorow, âIn the age of ebooks, you donât own your library,â
Boing Boing, March 23, 2008
<
.
[74] Kevin Carson, âWhat This Country Needs is a Good Pirated Version of
Kindle E-Books,â C4SS, May 1, 2009
<
.
[75] Janko Roettgers, âBitTorrent Researcher: Copyright Will Be Obsolete
by 2010,â New York Times, January 31, 2009
<
.
[76] Soderberg, Hacking Capitalism, p. 116.
[77] Rothbard, Man, Economy, and State, pp. 655, 658â9.
[78] Chakravarthi Raghavan, Recolonization: GATT, the Uruguay Round &
the Third World (Penang, Malaysia: Third World Network, 1990), p. 118.
[79] Rothbard, Power and Market: Government and the Economy (Kansas
City: Sheed Andrews and Mcmeel, Inc., 1970,
[80] Scherer testimony, Hearings on Global and Innovation-Based
Competition. FTC, 29 November 1995 <
.
[81] Benjamin Grove, âGibbons Backs Drug Monopoly Bill,â Las Vegas Sun,
18 February 2000 <
.
[82] David F. Noble, Progress Without People: New Technology,
Unemployment, and the Message of Resistance (Toronto: Between the Lines,
1995), p. 42. 1977), p. 74.