I take it that one of the important lessons of Harry Potter VI is that Hermione was right: it wasn’t a good idea to copy the Half-Blood Prince.
Ed Felten has posted on the inevitable fact that HP VI would make its way online, hence the futility of refusing to offer for sale a digital version of the book. (As a family that purchased two copies of the book and one copy of the CDs, I was just happy to learn that there was at least one medium on which we couldn’t buy the content again.)
We should talk about the possibilities for controlling this type of copying.
Based on Ed’s description, it sounds as if individuals have digitized chunks of the book. I know too little about watermarking and other forms of document controls, but I would think that it would be straightforward to imprint each page of copies of HP VI with a mark—dare I say a dark mark?—that scanners could recognize and respect.
Yes, it would make scanners marginally more expensive, but this doesn’t strike me as rocket science technology. The hard part, I suspect, is much more on the institutional side: getting scanner makers to include this technology. The scanner makers don’t have a stake in helping to limit copyright infringement; indeed, just the opposite: scanners that scan everything are more attractive to consumers than those that have a reduced feature set.
But of course there is even a more basic problem if we really want to avoid digital transmission of HP VI. The scanner approach—one that we could extend to photocopying machines as well—wouldn’t prevent me from typing the book into my computer. Sure it would be a lot of work to type all 652 pages, and I probably wouldn’t do that, and I suspect that no one else would either. And whatever we think about the plausibility of the scanner/marking scheme just described, I doubt that anyone thinks that Microsoft Word could be designed to somehow recognize when I am re-typing a copyrighted work.
But the Internet really is close to the world of friction-free transaction costs. Even if I won’t type the whole book, the Internet makes it reasonably straightforward for 652 of us to type one page and combine those together to make a digital copy of HP VI. The basis problem is that as soon as I can read the text, it is out in an unencrypted, capturable form.
For many works—academic monographs for example—it might be hard to find 652 volunteers to type in the work. Rowling is a victim of her success: both with regard to demand for the work in an electronic and searchable form and on the supply of ready typists. I confess that I won’t lose sleep over Rowling’s lost galleons; I am confident that her vault at Gringotts is already overflowing and that her incentives to create the works in question don’t turn on every possible market for the work. (That isn’t a general theory of copyright, and it doesn’t say that the current copying isn’t infringement, just a question of psychic energy.)
Does all of this mean that matters are hopeless for copyright holders? And more importantly, what does that mean for the broadcast flag? The flag, of course, is the technology of interest, since I suspect that we are a long way from controlling scanners in the way that I describe above. Degradation of quality comes next in line after filters or flags to block copying or re-transmission. When we type HP VI into our computers we introduce mistakes: Microsoft Word doesn’t recognize “horcrux” for example, so it would be easy to misspell it.
Degradation comes in a variety of forms. For a text such as HP VI, we would have misspellings, perhaps even missing paragraphs or pages. Hard-core fans will care a great deal about having the exactly-right version of the text. China has a flourishing market in infringing DVDs but I am told that the sheer number of infringing versions of a particular work makes it quite hard for a customer on the streets of Beijing to know that she is getting the authentic version of the original work.
The FCC intended the broadcast flag to limit the redistribution of video content. Note the past tense on “intended,” as the D.C. Circuit concluded on May 6, 2005 that the FCC lacked jurisdiction to implement the flag. The flag certainly wouldn’t have prevented all redistribution of digital TV content: I could plant my camcorder if front of my TV, record and redistribute. But the flag might have increased transaction costs, both direct and indirect through degradation of the re-transmitted works. And that might have been enough to move—even just a little bit—the line that separates paid use from infringing use.
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