Just a Little Light Gym Reading

I would never have a reason to pick up the Weekly Standard, were it not the most appealing choice–Squash! magazine was my next best option if that gives you an idea–on the reading shelf at the gym. Fortunately, the cover story did not disappoint. This is an intriguing look at the legal issues at stake in Google’s Book Search project. The central question posed by Google’s approach to creating a digital library seems to echo their defense of YouTube and the tricky issues of copyright presented by that tool. That question, in its most basic form: is it the responsibility of the content creator (the author, in this case) or the content provider (Google) to ensure that the copyright is protected. As the Weekly Standard article points out:

“Google maintains that by giving copyright owners the chance to opt out of the program, it has performed due diligence with respect to the copyright. This turns traditional law–which stipulates that someone wanting to use copyrighted material must seek and receive affirmative permission–on its head.”

This question is central, not simply because of the vast reach of any Google-driven archiving project, but because it betrays an enormous tension in the way we’ve grown to consume many types of media. In music, popular MP3 blogs and hip hop mix tapes exist in a bewildering in-between of copyright law: they follow the Google model to promote first and ask permission later. Artists who appreciate the exposure–and/or boast tolerant record labels–let these copyright abuses (?) fly while others assert their rights as content owners and (in the case of MP3 blogs) succeed in squelching give-aways of their product.

I feel this tension acutely, because I’m at heart a fan of what Google is trying to do. A searchable repository of the Harvard or Oxford library? Brilliant! What a fantastic research tool and gift to everyone with web access. But I also feel that we encroach the rights of content creators (authors, musicians, artists, directors, actors, etc) at our own peril. At what point does the public good of readily-available information trample the right of authors to expect fair payment for their hard work? When should individuals be expected to individually protect their work, and when is it ok for a large corporation to use the “there’s just too many of them to ask each individually” defense?

Image used under a Creative Commons license from Flickr user tvol.