[DMCA-Activists] The Commons Doesn't Have a Business Plan

[Seth Johnson]

(If you think about it, this is a very, very good line to be
propagating right now.  I think we're at the point where straight
up stating the nature of the beast, rather than framing things in
other terms for the sake of seeking relevance, is now much more
viable.  Specifically, the inroads at WIPO and re software
patents in Europe, have established historical registers that we
can point to as signaling as new phase, one in which "the problem
in general" is now being acknowledged in official venues, to
whatever extent.  But of course, I have always pushed the
"Information Is Free, not that it Wants to be Free" line, simply
as a matter of taking the long view.  -- Seth)



> http://www.onlamp.com/pub/a/onlamp/2005/07/28/commons.html

The Commons Doesn't Have a Business Plan


by Andy Oram
07/28/2005


The "commons" is the part of the economy that doesn't have a 
business plan yet.

Once somebody can figure out how to turn a social trend into  a
moneymaking operation, he or she can raise capital, get a 
product on the shelves, and collect revenue. A business plan 
certainly isn't child's play, but at least there's a process  in
place.

It's during that breathless span of time before the business 
plan takes shape--a month, a year, a decade, that critical  time
when a notion is incubating in society and no one knows  quite
what to make of it--when we need the commons.  Understanding the
commons is more important than ever.

Traditionally, a commons was a grassy area in the center of  town
where everyone could graze their animals. In modern  times,
people have applied the notion of a "commons" to  anything that
is available to all comers without  restriction. In particular,
sociologists consider ideas,  cultural artifacts, and other
intellectual contributions to  have become part of our commons.

Many people already appreciate the commons. But those who  demand
that ideas have business plans in order to be usable  should
ponder the first sentence of this article to see a  hardheaded
justification for the importance of the  intellectual commons.

This article explores how this concept fits in with free 
software, also known as open source software. I will also  touch
on some ways that business imperatives, imprudently  pursued, can
weaken the commons, that fertile field from  which the most
promising future businesses will emerge.

Briefly, open source software is software distributed in the 
form of its original source code, which is the form the 
programmer writes it in. Thanks to permissive licensing, 
everyone who has access to a computer potentially has access  to
the software, and anyone who chooses to access the  software can
change and adapt it just as easily as the  original creator can.

Open source software often benefits from community  development.
While a core of developers usually does most of  the work, a cast
of thousands potentially contributes to the  software by
examining the source code and submitting bug  fixes. The end
result, for popular projects, is often more  robust, more highly
functional, and more secure than closed  software.

For closed software--also called proprietary software--the 
feature set must achieve a certain size before it's worth 
putting together a sales program, and marketing the software 
effectively requires a degree of business savvy. Many 
programmers earn a modest sum with small, niche programs,  but
there's always some effort involved in commercializing  the
software.

That is not to say that open source becomes irrelevant when 
software can support a business plan; the two can definitely 
coexist, as robust activity in the open source space by IBM  and
other companies proves. But a special charm hangs over  free
software created by inspired individuals and released  into the
wild.

Open source lowers barriers to the creation and distribution  of
software. It therefore allows innovation in that broad  space
between inventions that have purely personal value and 
inventions that can support a business plan.

Some observers claim that open source software simply  imitates
proprietary vendor offerings--that innovation takes  place only
in proprietary software. This view demonstrates a  poor
understanding of programming history. What about the  stored
digital computer program, the internet, all-purpose  scripting
languages, the Web, online chat, and peer-to-peer  file sharing?
Those fundamental technologies, used daily by  millions of
people, were open source innovations.

Proprietary vendors are good at exploiting an idea that 
incrementally improves the user's experience or  productivity.
Some historic, groundbreaking technologies  certainly came out of
corporations: the compiler and the  graphical user interface are
two examples. But many  world-shaking breakthroughs in
communication and personal  empowerment occur on a level at which
proprietary vendors  cannot build a business model. The
proprietary products must  follow, not lead, open source.

Open source can be commercial, too. Commercializing such 
software is good for open source, good for business, and  good
for the public. Vendors can take snapshots of major  open source
projects and turn them into products that can be  easily and
safely used by large, cautious organizations that  value
reliability.

But no matter how much money vendors and other large 
organizations pour into open source projects, the driving  force
that creates value comes from the intrepid innovators  that flock
to these projects. They exist both within and  outside the
established organizations, and they do not only  coding but also
testing, training, documentation, and  advocacy.

Not everything has to be open source. One of the most supple 
implementations of open source, the Creative Commons, allows 
many gradations between openness and control.

What else is there to learn about the commons by seeing it  as
the source of innovation outside a business plan? Indeed,  in
this sense the commons keeps bubbling up over and over,  starting
from our earliest knowledge of human communities.

Art (which includes music, poetry, dance, and many other  forms
of expression) is a commons. For a long time, people  created it
to satisfy personal or religious impulses. A few  figured out how
to make money at it, but the love of money  does not drive art.

Language is a commons. Those who learn to shape it with  delight
or cunning can make a living at it, but the vast  majority of
language use goes unremunerated.

The constant factor in the commons of art and language is  that
each addition tends to build on what others have done.  People
view art that inspires them, listen to music that  moves them,
and read texts that persuade them before they  produce their own
creations. Their new works invariably  refer to ideas in the
earlier ones. When you find a work  that is startling and
seemingly new--by James Joyce or  Schoenberg, for instance--it
simply means the references are  more cleverly hidden and require
more thoughtful  elucidation.

Could our intellectual heritage suffer a "tragedy of the 
commons," as described by Garrett Hardin when he introduced  that
term in 1968? What Hardin described was a degradation  or
exhaustion of the commons through overuse. Clearly, there  can be
no tragedy of the intellectual commons in this sense,  because
the commons of ideas provides enough for every  taker. Rather,
two different tragedies threaten it.

The threat most resembling the classic tragedy is a fencing  off
of the commons, a predatory and premature division of  its goods
among private owners. This indeed can starve the  commons. The
trend worries librarians, researchers, creative  artists, and
others responsible for tending the commons of  ideas.

The creator of a new work should not be allowed to monetize  it
completely, because it owes its existence to the commons  and
contains part of that commons. The new work is a shared 
achievement--shared between the individual who added his or  her
personal touch and the community in which it arose--so  both
sides must respect each other. This means the public  must allow
the creator a fair reward, and the creator must  allow a certain
amount of reuse by the public. Copyright is  a short-term
monopoly meant to encourage new works, and it  was recognized as
such by Adam Smith in The Wealth of  Nations.     

Fencing off the commons has proceeded along several lines,  which
have been reported in the press but scarcely  considered by the
wider public.

    * The Supreme Court ruling on June 27 earlier this year  that
allowed movie and music studios to sue the makers of 
file-sharing software is a minor step in the slow  devaluation of
the commons. The ruling creates new tools  making it easier for
someone with a business plan to trample  down the commons when it
conflicts with the business plan.  Innovators, including those
with no resources for court  challenges, must worry that they may
be sued for the results  of experiments they offer to the
community. The ruling  therefore endorses the past at the expense
of the potential.

    * Extensions of copyright to periods of time way past  the
current historical era are violations of the commons and  are
directly contrary to the tradition Adam Smith  recognized. The
most recent extension by the U.S. Congress  keeps works under
copyright until 70 years after the  author's death. In upholding
the law, the courts pointed out  that the law adheres to the
international Berne  Convention--which simply spreads the shame
more widely.

    * Restrictions on people making their own copies of  material
they've bought, or experiencing it outside of  particular times
and places, are violations of the commons.  But movie and music
makers routinely put such limits on  downloaded material, in a
losing battle against unauthorized  sharing. A whole field of
computing has grown up around  digital rights management, which
keeps people from making  full use of copyrighted material.

    * Invocations of trademarks or trade secrets to squelch  free
speech are violations of the commons. One blatant  example is a
claim by Cisco, just reported, that they are  "protecting [their]
intellectual property" as they invoke  legal measures to suppress
public debate about a serious  security flaw they've left
unrepaired in their routers.

    * Explicit censorship is a violation of the commons.  China
is the focus of current news about censorship, but it  goes on in
many places and distorts the entire environment  for information
sharing.

The fencing off of the commons has divided industries, with 
different sides taken by different creative artists,  software
makers, publishers, and others.

But the biggest worry of movie and music studios, along with 
software companies, newspapers, and many publishers, is  another
threat: that the commons will swallow up everything  else.
Specifically, they claim that consumers will seek to  get
everything for free, and thus undermine their own  self-interest
by shredding the incentives for artists and  programmers to
create new, independent works of value.

This threat is not quite as tragic as the content vendors  make
it out to be, because payment regimes for art and  information
have changed drastically at many turning points  over the
centuries. The simple model whereby each individual  pays for a
copy or a performance has worked for many  artists, but not all.
Changes brought about by digital  technology will create new
winners and losers.

The early radio broadcasters were nonprofits: in other  words,
radio started out as part of the commons. Under the  pressures of
corporations and the Federal Communications  Commission, radio
quickly developed a business plan.  Interestingly enough,
however, broadcasts remained free of  charge. Advertising support
replaced the pay-per-copy or  pay-per-performance model. In
addition, due to the basic  physics of radio--each station can
cover only a limited  geographical area--a show can be recorded
and syndicated for  more income. Still, it's hard to grasp now
that for many  years the three U.S. television networks carried
on a  1950s-style hysteria campaign against proposals for "pay 
TV." We now suffer a broadcasting regime that is not free 
enough--one that may stifle innovations such as podcasting.

In passing, it's worth noting that traditional notions about 
pay-per-use are making it hard to get medicines to AIDS  patients
and other desperately sick people in developing  nations. WTO and
U.S. rules, in trying to ensure that  individual companies bear
the rewards for developing drugs,  end up depriving millions of
people of medical care while  contributing hardly anything to
company profits.

New media, which will probably use digital networks and be  more
interactive, will present new payment opportunities.  They may
well build on the open source movement. We should  celebrate the
existence of open source, and defend the  commons in every area
of innovation as our guarantee of  innovation.

---

Andy Oram is an editor for O'Reilly Media, specializing in  Linux
and free software books, and a member of Computer  Professionals
for Social Responsibility. His web site is 
www.praxagora.com/andyo.