Cory Doctorow is an extremely prolific writer in several media:
he is a science fiction writer of reknown (his bibliography can be found
at his website, http://www.craphound.com/, from where you can also download
some of his work under Creative Commons licenses);
he is a campaigner for free information, and has written dozens of
articles on this and other topics; he is an editor of the BoingBoing.net:
a directory of wonderful things; and has also been editor, contributor,
and writer-in-residence for many other institutions. And recently he
joined the board of the Clarion SF
Writers' Workshop. We spoke to him recently about some of the
issues that interest us all.
Future Fire: Hi Cory Doctorow. Thanks for speaking to us. Can I start with a couple of background quastions, and we'll see where it takes us? You mentioned that you no longer work for the Electronic Frontier Foundation—you described this in Boing Boing as having "given up the day job". What do you do with your time now?
Cory Doctorow: Well, I'm a full time writer, basically. I'm working on various things. I have a couple of short stories that I'm writing, and some articles. I'm also working on a non-fiction book called Set Top Cop: Hollywood's Secret War on America's Living Rooms, talking about things like Digital Rights Management and the issues around that and alternatives to it.
FF: Would it fair to say that your writing tends to be idea-based rather than action-led?
CD: I guess that's probably correct, yes. I tend to write by starting with a cool idea, and then trying to find some action to string it along with.
FF: I've noticed more than one or two characters in your work are collectors (of junk, of information, of books, etc.). Does this come from you? Are you a craphound?
CD: Yes, definitely that's me. Although as I live in the city I don't have room for all of the crap I own or want. I actually have storage lockers in both San Francisco and London which are completely full of junk that I have nowhere else to put. I have now filled the largest hard drive that I can reasonably get in a laptop. I'm kind of at breaking point now, and I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it all. It's come to the point where I own all these things but as I can't get access to them I might as well not own them. I mean it's cool to have storages in San Francisco and London full of stuff, but on the other hand I might just end up giving a whole lot of it away to a charity shop and keep most things in electronic format.
FF: Another element of some of your characters: do you like to lecture people on random topics?
CD: Yes, I think that's true. It's a science fiction thing as well, the genre lends itself to long, thoughtful soliloquies. People like Heinlein, Neal Stephenson, Bruce Sterling have all made use of this technique very effectively.
FF: Can you explain briefly why you have chosen to give all of your published novels—and many stories, I believe—away for free in electronic form under Creative Commons licenses?
CD: Well, what can I say? It works, basically. I mean, yes, it is true that if you give away an eBook for free, that you are going to lose a certain number of potential sales to people who now don't need to buy the book. But for me, I'm sure I create a far higher number of new sales by giving eBooks away for free, because by doing so I am bringing the work to the attention of new people who would not otherwise have read it.
FF: Indeed. More to the point, perhaps, how did you convince your publishers to let you do this?
CD: That was deceptively easy, in my case. My editor is Patrick Nielsen Hayden, senior editor at Tor, who I first met through the GEnie Online service. Tor understand what giving away free eBooks means for their business, as well as the fact that it won't lose them sales. Later on that might change, of course, in which case we'll have to rethink the strategy. If, say, a generation comes along who are comfortable reading a lot more on screen than we are, then it will cease to be the case that you can't make money from e-publications. When eBooks replace paper as the default publishing medium, it will no longer be safe to give things away for free online. What we should be doing now, then, is taking advantage of the current situation where we can experiment with giving things away for free to learn about how e-publication is going to work, what models we're going to have to work with.
FF: You have been active in the free information movement for some time now; what first encouraged you to become involved in this issue?
CD: The formal answer to this question is that I started a peer-to-peer
software company in California some years ago, and I got in touch
with the EFF because our investors were worried about the risk of
copyright lawsuits and the like.
But a more interesting aspect to this question, I think, is why did I
start up a peer-to-peer software company in the first place? As I
grew up, I couldn't help but be aware of how easy it is to copy
bits. As I saw it, culture was become more fluid. The culture I grew
up in, as the culture you grew up in, that we all grew up in, the
assumption was that artistic production was pretty permanent and
static. We've moved, right, from an oral culture, where art and
creativity is pretty fluid, to a more rigid culture of printed texts
and recorded sound, television and so forth. Well now, the internet
is making things fluid again, if in a different way.
I used to make photocopied collages as a kid. I used to see band
posters up when I was walking the streets, that were made by
photocopying and cutting up images. So I grew up in a remix culture,
and the law hasn't caught up with that culture yet. We grew up with
the concept of bits, of information-carrying units that can be
easily copied. Anyone who works on the assumption that they can
build a business, a body of practice, of art, or a culture that can
not be copied, is crazy.
For example, I've been talking to the BBC recently. The BBC are
investing money into standardization of copy restriction
technologies, on the argument that studios will not license works to
them unless they have these technologies in place. So I have asked
them why they are wasting my money on this scheme that is predicated
on the idea that bits will be hard to copy in the future. Let me
tell you, bits will always be easier to copy than they are now.
Right now we are living in the time in which—barring nuclear
explosion or something—bits are harder to copy than they ever will
be again.
Those rightsholders and interests who won't license their works to
the BBC because they haven't yet figured out how to live in the
world are just roadkill. It's like spending millions on a huge new
medical research project in the 21st century based on the idea of
studying how to treat evil humours. It's just archaic. So they're
wasting British license-payers' money on this stuff.
The fact that information will be easy to copy in the future is a
given, and this ease of copying will increase, not decrease. Any
science fiction writer who doesn't realise that it will be easier to
copy in the future, has no business calling what they write science
fiction, it's just self-evident.
FF: Are you not afraid though that big interests and rightsholders will prevent people from copying their data, maybe not technologically, but legally?
CD: Oh yes, very much. It's going to be especially difficult when these
sorts of legal restrictions happen at international treaty level,
because that is very hard to undo or to influence. When it was an
issue of British copyright law, all you had to do was convince
parliament that something was a bad idea; now that it's a question
of EU directives, you have to lobby all the member EU countries, and
that's far more cumbersome.
The same is true of the US, when these laws were issued by Congress,
it was straightforward to deal with. Of course congress was and is
influenced by all sorts of interest groups, but that's another
story. Now that the US is a signatory to the Berne Convention, in
order to make and changes you have to convince all of the
signatories worldwide of the need, and therefore the Berne
Convention is effectively frozen in time; it will never change.
The WIPO—World Intellectual Property Organisation—want to decree that
anyone who puts audiovisual material on the internet, even if it is
out of copyright, gets to control the reproduction of that material.
This is crazy: this means that the person who happens to
electromagnetically modulate a piece of video or audio culture has
more rights over the material than the person who created it. This
is a disaster waiting to happen.
FF: So is there anything we can do about it?
CD: Yes, get involved with the campaign on these issues. The EFF is part
of a growing coalition of civil liberties groups at WIPO working on
these things. We are still small, at the moment, but we have two
incredible advantages on our side. One: we are not mired in the past
in the way many of those advocating restrictive copyright laws are.
Two: we're right. The fact that these people can be demonstrated to
be wrong will work in our favour.
For example, they have argued that there will be no investment in
technologies and creativity if there are not compulsory exclusive
rights on anything that is webcast. But as a counterpoint to this,
just look at the example of podcasting. There are no exclusive
rights in play here, and thousands if not millions of people of
rightsholders create podcasts of their materials anyway. In fact it
would be it would be impossible for them to do so with the proposed
laws. Exclusive rights will demonstrably hamper investment.
FF: How are the internet, and in particular the various electronic publication media going to change the publishing industry and the paradigms we all take for granted today?
CD: I don't necessarily have thoughts on this specific to the publishing
industry, but what is interesting to me is how the internet has
changed what we can use as a predictor of artistic success. In the
era before radio and sound recording, the main predictor of success
for a performing artist was charisma, the artist who had strong
stage presence and could engage a live audience. In the era of the
phonogram and recorded music etc., the predictor has changed from
charisma to virtuosity, to the quality of the raw product only. We
have all experienced artists whose recorded work is not great, but
who are excellent live performers, or vice versa.
In the age of the internet, the predictor will change again: in order
for an artist to succeed, they will have to prove able to engage
conversationally with thousands of fans at once. For example,
Michael Straczynski, the creator of Babylon
5, used to spend hours every day on Usenet, promoting
the show, encouraging the network of fans, and basically making sure
people felt plugged in, that the makers of the show cared about
them.
The factors that affect this include the fact that virtuosity is what
economists call a non-substitutable good. So in contrast to, say,
telephone service—whatever the telcos might like to think—or
potatoes, which we don't really care where they come from; but for
example clothing, people often do care where they come from, we talk
about brands and the like, these are elements that are
non-substitutable. If you know you have liked something by a certain
author before, you will look for something by the same author.
Therefore products like this have thicker margins, since being
successful already is a predictor of further success.
The internet has lowered the search costs in finding new works; for
example it has lowered the cost of shopping, but also the cost of
finding virtuosity. So if a novel has evoked a certain emotional
response in you, it should be possible to find other novels that
will evoke a similar response. This is the bookseller's art, of
course, to sell you a book that you had not heard of and didn't
think you wanted.
So the cost of finding art is going down and down and down: online
search engines, blogs, booksellers, all these are there to help you
find new items. But there is also the non-substitutable element of
the personal relationship: with people like Straczynski, and authors
like Neil Gaiman, their fans talk about them as if they are their
friends, because they engage with their fans. They want them to do
well because they think of them as friends.
FF: So we've kind of come full circle again, haven't we, because this is almost another form of charisma?
CD: People often say that to me when I make that point, but I don't think it's true. You can think of plenty of people who have charisma, but who aren't particularly good conversationalists. Think of David Lee Roth—great stage presence, but not speaker—or Robin Williams, for example. As performers, great, but not people who form a relationship with you. George Lucas, say, has a lot of charisma, but doesn't give great conversation; contrast him with Joss Whedon. There's a story I heard recently that when he was up for an award, probably for one of his TV shows, or maybe even for Serenity, and there were two screenings of his show the same night. One was a big industry screening, and the other was a fan screening. So Whedon had to go to the industry screening, but once it had started, he left to go to the fan screening. And he didn't make a big deal of it, and announce himself or anything, he just stood at the back watching the show, just to be one of the fans. And someone in the crowd looked back and noticed him, and realised, "That's Joss Whedon", and word went around, but they didn't bug him. They considered him to be one of them, part of the group experience, like he was a peer. Most people with charisma will never be your peer.
FF: OK, if not charisma in the same sense, at least it shows that you again need to do more than just record, right?
CD: Sure, I guess. But in any case it's always been true that to make a living as an artist, to go on making a living, you have to go on working. Or you have to invest wisely while you are earning, and live off that. Old work won't always generate you revenue. Copyright may go on for ever, but royalties don't. 98% of items still under copyright are not available. So yeah, you have to somehow keep your work warm, or you need to invest in real estate, as a lot of the more successful people do.
FF: What do you think will be the most unexpected cultural development in the next ten years?
CD: The most interesting question I think in the next decade, or the next
two decades, will be what happens to a form of media for which there
is social demand, but which is not economically sustainable. We need
newspapers, for example, clearly; the role of independent journalist
and commentator is something absolutely essential to a civilised
society. But newspapers are supported by advertising, it's the only
thing that makes them viable. And advertisers are massively moving
to the internet, and advertising on eBay and the like.
Newspapers fill a vital role, but advertisers won't support
newspapers because they're philanthropists. If newspapers don't get
advertising revenue, they'll have to charge $5 for a copy, and no
one will buy them any more. So the question is how will we fund the
newspapers when classified ads flee to another medium?
One possibility is that we invent a class of citizen journalists who
share the workload, uploading the facts as they see them and leaving
others to fill out the picture. But the problem is that many libel
laws—especially in Europe—require a news publication to confer with
both sides of a story, or at least to call them up and get no
comment, before publishing a report or an allegation. So the idea of
one person just posting a story that they've heard, and leaving
others to confirm or correct it, would probably be illegal under
most libel laws.
Or think of the cost of film production. Ted Castronova has done some
interesting calculations on this: if a Massive Multiplayer Online
Roleplaying Game (MMORPG) costs $50 million to make—to develop, to
research, to build, to market, etc.—and each person plays an MMORPG
for maybe hundred of hours; and a big blockbuster Hollywood movie
costs upwards of $200 million, and provides an hour and a half of
watching time. He calculated that to make a movie that entertains
for as long as an MMO would cost something like $14 billion. So if
you had money to invest, he suggests you'd be wiser to invest it in
an MMO than a Hollywood movie.
So there's a real danger of the Hollywood movie industry being killed
by the video gaming industry. And television, famously, is
blockbuster driven. A few big shows are the leading edge for
everything else on the small screen. There may always be the
economic demand for a show like Lost, which
cost about $40 million to shoot the pilot episode. But if the other
shows, the ones for which there is less demand, cease to be
economically sustainable and stop being made, then the
apprenticeship opportunities that these shows provide, and the
industray devoted to developing skills and techniques go. It's only
because of all this stuff that Lost only
cost $40 million to make rather than $400 million, so if those shows
go, does Lost go too?
And in any case, will people devote a whole room in their house to a
device on which they only watch three shows? Maybe people will
prefer to watch these shows on their laptop, or mobile phone, or
PDA.
FF: So is one answer to that scenario that shows are downloaded, and all web product is downloaded on a "pay-per-view" basis, paying by the megabyte?
CD: The problem with the pay-per-use model of web access, is the web is full of novel services, new technologies but also new kinds of service. There is a high level of experimentation, some of which will be hit-and-miss. If there is a transaction cost, people will be less likely to take the risk of experimenting, and these options will be drastically reduced. It isn't true of most of Europe, but in the USA for example local calls have always been free, unmetered, like internet access. So long as there's competition for providers, charging by the megabyte won't be sustainable—companies that try to charge will just lose customers.
FF: OK, Cory, one final question. Would you like to live for ever?
CD: I'd like to... choose the time of my death. I don't think I'd want to live literally forever, because that might become dull. But I'd like to bring my time of death under my own control. That might mean I'd want to live for thousands of years (or it might not) but I'd like the choice.
FF: Cory Doctrow, thank you very much for your time.
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